In a villa in the city of Langton, the young Schopenhauer lay decadently on the sofa, clutching a half-empty bottle of wine, with a large amount of research materials and a newspaper scattered on the floor.
For an alchemist who had always been self-disciplined, the scattered research materials and the wine stains on them were enough to indicate how awful his mental state was at that moment.
If Schopenhauer were in his normal state, he would never let important research materials scatter on the ground and be soiled.
In his laboratory, if an apprentice were to dirty the research materials, at the very least they'd be scolded, and at the worst, face very severe punishment.
In Schopenhauer's own words, knowledge is the cornerstone for an alchemist to reach the truth. If you don't respect knowledge, then you don't deserve to be an alchemist.
But at this moment, even Schopenhauer himself couldn't be bothered to care about these things.
