Chapter 33: Lingering Ghosts

Once more, Wu Qingsong sprung into action, only to find the situation more complex than he had initially assumed.

His first obstacle was saltpeter. He had naively thought that the saltpeter used in hide-curing would suffice. However, after heating it for an extended period in a container, it failed to emit any acidic fumes. That was when it hit him, “Isn’t saltpeter supposed to be combustible?”

Indeed, the so-called saltpeter for hide-curing didn’t exhibit any combustible properties.

Was he expected to resort to scraping mud from the exterior of public toilets, as some novels suggested?

“What exactly are you looking for?” Harold finally couldn’t resist and asked.

“A strong acid,” Wu Qingsong replied without much optimism.

“A strong acid?” Harold didn’t probe further but provided a potential lead. “There might be a place that has what you need.”

Harold pointed him toward a discreet shop in the port district. To the casual observer, it seemed like an ordinary storefront selling an assortment of goods. According to Harold, however, the place was a sanctuary for every mercenary, adventurer, and schemer in Umber. The shop offered a wide variety of poisons and even potent acids capable of disfigurement or worse. Moreover, it served as a marketplace for confidential information.

“The three major guilds tolerate this?” Wu Qingsong was incredulous.

“The word on the street is that the largest shareholder is none other than the Commercial Guild. But who really knows? People don’t disclose their true identities or intentions there, so it doesn’t really matter,” Harold explained.

Consequently, Wu Qingsong ventured into the shop one evening, his face masked. The shop was sparsely populated. A long counter ran along one wall, behind which stood a towering cabinet filled with numerous drawers. An elderly foxman sat behind the counter, enjoying his tea. In a far corner, two brawny bearmen were engrossed in a hushed conversation while savoring their drinks.

“Good evening. How may I assist you?” The foxman stood up immediately upon seeing Wu Qingsong enter the shop. He set aside his tea set and greeted him with a warm smile.

“I was recommended by Grey Eyes,” Wu Qingsong said softly, adhering to Harold’s advice.

The foxman’s smile persisted as he nodded. “What can I do for you?”

“I’m in need of a strong acid,” Wu Qingsong started, hesitating slightly.

He found himself at a loss for words when it came to describing concentrated nitric acid, mostly because he didn’t know what it looked like to begin with.

“It should be produced by heating a specific mineral and then directing the resulting gas into water,” Wu Qingsong offered, this being the sole clue he had.

The vague information evidently perplexed the elderly foxman, whose expertise appeared to lean more toward poisons.

“We have a variety of potent acids you might find more useful,” he suggested. “For instance, we offer high-quality lava lizard stomach acid, which is highly corrosive. We also have swamp crocodile stomach acid, and acid from Calidos fish. Would you like to have a look?”

“I need the acid for a very specific purpose,” Wu Qingsong found himself compelled to clarify.

“That’s a shame,” said the foxman. “The acid you’re describing is likely only found in specialized alchemical workshops. If you could give an exact name or specific characteristics, we could possibly order it for you from Padamia or Phoenix.”

“I can only tell you that it’s created by heating saltpeter and then introducing the resulting gas into water,” Wu Qingsong attempted to clarify. The foxman, however, appeared puzzled as to why he would need an acid derived from substances commonly found in lavatories and pig pens.

“I might be able to look into it for you,” the foxman finally said, his tone shifting to one of polite detachment.

“Would a down payment be necessary?” Wu Qingsong asked.

“Of course! The deposit is one gold sol, which will be deducted from your total bill. However, if we’re unable to find the item you’re seeking, we’ll still charge you half the consultation fee.”

“No problem,” Wu Qingsong said. By now, he harbored little hope of finding what he needed here. Yet, the amount was inconsequential to him at this point, so he went ahead and paid.

Just then, the doorbell let out a soft chime. When he turned around, he saw only a retreating figure.

“Some patrons prefer a more private shopping experience,” the foxman explained, offering a friendly smile as he handed Wu Qingsong a receipt.

Although Wu Qingsong hadn’t yet learned to write, he could understand basic characters and numerals. The Empire utilized an alphabetical system consisting of nearly thirty consonants and over seventy vowels, combined in various ways to create words and sentences. He had heard that elves used a far more intricate script, one that was virtually incomprehensible to anyone other than a handful of half-elves.

Exiting the shop, Wu Qingsong found the street deserted. He circled the block out of habit before returning to his residence. He cast a deliberate glance over his shoulder before entering. Nobody was following him.

As usual, Ling and Liuli greeted him immediately upon his return, taking his belongings from his hands. Liuli darted around, placing each item in its designated spot. Meanwhile, Ling played the role of a doting housewife, providing him with a face towel and helping him change out of his outer clothes into something more comfortable.

Even after several months, Wu Qingsong still struggled to adjust to the meticulous, almost submissive care he received from Ling and Liuli. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to ask them to stop. Every time he tried to bring up the subject, their faces would take on an expression of impending abandonment, leaving him with no choice but to let them continue.

Wu Qingsong felt that Ling and Liuli’s insecurities arose from their lack of self-worth and an absence of security in their lives. No matter how hard he tried, altering the mental habits they had developed since childhood seemed nearly impossible.

He comforted himself with the idea that things might improve once the combat instructor Harold was arranging for them arrived. Then they could learn to defend themselves and perhaps find some measure of self-worth.

Yet, if he were to be entirely honest with himself, although a tad exaggerated, the meticulous care he received from them did feel rather… invigorating.

“Someone is investigating you,” Harold abruptly said the next day.

“Who?” Wu Qingsong was taken aback. He had almost forgotten that he was paying an additional monthly fee specifically for protection against any nefarious intentions.

“Word is it’s someone with a mask, a raspy voice, and an average build. They’re armed with a rapier, the kind usually seen with nobles. The suspicion is that it’s a half-elf.”

“A half-elf?” Wu Qingsong’s heart missed a beat.

If there was any half-elf who would have a reason to bear a grudge against him and whom he couldn’t easily forget, it had to be Kleine.

Kleine not only knew Wu Qingsong’s secrets but also had both the will and the means to harm him.

‘He’s still alive? And he’s made it to Umber?’ Wu Qingsong thought. ‘Well then, don’t blame me. You’re targeting me, but I’ve also got a score to settle. Let’s see who comes out on top.’

“Can we find someone competent to handle him?” Wu Qingsong asked without a moment’s hesitation. “Someone highly skilled.”

Harold appeared shocked by this unexpected display of aggressiveness. He had never seen Wu Qingsong act so forcefully before.

After staring intently at Wu Qingsong, Harold finally nodded slowly. “As long as you’re willing to foot the bill, we can always find someone qualified. If you offer a substantial sum, we could even recruit someone from the city guard.”

“No city guards. The person we’re dealing with is too unique for that. Money is no problem, but find the absolute best person for this. And do it as quickly as possible.”

Once again, Harold nodded in agreement.