Two minutes later.
Strange fragrance began to surface from the cauldron.
Casting the whole alchemy room and even the nearby area outside in a revitalizing scent.
When Selina caught whiff of the lemony mixed with earthy fragrance, she felt her spirituality returning faster than before.
After thirty more minutes. The fragrance had stopped.
The scent that was emanating from the cauldron earlier had dispersed, leaving a fine dried powder.
Selina took her time placing the contents into a small vial. Putting each of the candle's plume out and moving the cauldron with a pot holder.
The result had a white-brown texture. Its scent gives off a burnt and earthy smell that may not aligned with the formula's description of it.
The drug should retain its lemony fragrance... Did I do something wrong?
Selina arched her brows in apprehension. Uncertain of her self-made drug.
One thing to know if it's successful—find a willing practitioner to take it!
After putting the vial aside in her dress's compartment. She began wondering how much time had gone while she's isolated.
Perhaps it's already evening... she muttered, taking her time to tidy the room of her presence before heading for the door.
While in the process of cleaning, she had thought that one sample wouldn't be reliable. So with this in mind, if she failed to find any guinea pigs in time, she'll have to procure more with varied approach.
If one thing she had learned about research, is that validity is impossible without reliability!
The validity is how effective and successful my drugs can be...
How I can improve and what my errors are... A faint conviction tugging at her lips.
A willing practitioner... Hmm, let's just try it on rats. Perhaps Fallacy can catch me a few...
Creek...
Selina opened the door.
Returning to the empty tunnel. A quiet, hollowing air swept her skin.
It was cold, suggesting the fading hours of the day, prompting her to cover herself with her half-coat.
Along the way, she encountered Old Neil, not far from the Chanis Gate. He saw him walked out of another door.
She stopped at her tracks and waited for him, assuming that this gentleman would head upstairs as well.
"Finished with your studies Ms. Roy?" Old Neil had a gentle smile, yet his eyes bore faint dark circles.
"Yes, but you seem more tired than me Mr. Old Neil, how was your day in the armory?" said Selina with slight concerns.
Old Neil chuckled and said, "I'm not in the armory. I was at my office, decrypting a few pages of Roselle's notebook.
"Seems my appearance is taking a toll from my stress?"
Roselle's notebook... Page...
Selina's face lightened. Emperor Roselle's diary!
"Notebook page... What is it?"
"It is an indecipherable note that contains texts that are far beyond our understanding", Old Neil explained.
"The language seemed gibberish when taken from the surface, but multiple of our cryptologists have proven that the words have concise structure and valid connection to one another that it proves to be a language of its own.
"Speculations tells that if one were to understand it, knowledge and power will fall under their fingertips from the secrets of the Emperor. At least, that's the rumors hehe."
Indecipherable?
What language could it be?
"May I see the pages for myself? From what you've described them, I became curious of what they are", Selina deliberately hid her motive with a smile.
Old Neil pressed his pocket, then said, "That can be done tomorrow, wouldn't you rather rest for now? You seem rather absorbed to your time remaining in the alchemy room by yourself."
If it's possible, can I please see it now?
Selina wanted to say this, but considering Old Neil's workload throughout the entire day, she forfeited the idea.
"Very well", she said simply, harboring expectations for the morning to come.
"Ah, also. Captain told me on their way to their operation that I should practice my accuracy in the Underground Shooting Range in 3 Zouteland Street.
"From what he instructed. I should consult you for the bullets I can use... Uh, I plan to visit it today before heading home."
"Underground Shooting Range..." Old Neil muttered to himself.
"He didn't forget to tell Klein Moretti about it did he?"
Selina remained silent, unsure of what to respond.
She wanted to say that maybe he did because after seeing Klein's expression during the time their captain was instructing her. He seemed rather calm and expectant.
"Haha, Perhaps he did", said Old Neil while finding the thought amusing.
Is this a running gag in the whole department?
I guess it is...
"How many bullets did he instructed you to get?"
Now this time, Selina truly doesn't know what to answer.
...
After another minutes, Selina received her first batch of bullets from Old Neil. Amounting to twenty.
Small steps echoes in this confined path, and while Selina's steps were mechanical, Old Neil's gait on the other hand involved him walking on his heels, and it made a distinctive noise as he ambled down the hall.
Soon the two arrived at the stone stairwell.
Sure enough, the whole corridor was now bathed in the golden glow of noon. The sun setting over the horizon.
Old Neil and Selina reached the partition right before the entrance to meet Rozanne, who was preparing to leave.
At this moment, Selina wondered the hunt operation, Dunn and her other teammates had participated.
She asked, "Where is captain and the rest?"
Was the operation a success?
Rozanne's face was tainted with bitterness. However, her expression still seem to reveal the loquacious girl from before.
"Captain is back in his office while Borgia and Aiur Harson are resting in the entertainment room."
She sighed, "Goddess... When Klein returned, his suit was tattered and damped to the brim with blood!"
Her words were an exaggeration, yet managed to effectively make a visualization for Selina to imagine.
"We hid at the third floor again, and when we came back, Frye and Royale turned to the partition and left. Frye must have been tasked by the captain to retrieve the body for autopsy and Royale for the subsequent clean-up of the surrounding area."
How perceptive... Being able to deduce even when not apart of the operation? Is this what they call a right stickybeak[1]?
"Blood? Are they injured?" she asked with concern.
Rozanne shook her head, drew a crimson moon over her chest and said, "Praise the lady, the injuries weren't severe and were manageable enough for them to return."
Selina heaved a relieving sigh upon hearing that.
Phew...
Old Neil cut in, "Well, not entirely fine. However, after a bit of ritualistic magic, their health will hopefully recover once a few days had passed. They did expend their spirituality and even used Goddess's Gaze to prolong their decent state, so for awhile they would have to rest."
"Using ritualistic magic to heal?" Selina caught the tidbit immediately.
She had thought that medicines and drugs are more suitable for this field rather than rituals. After all, those are common perceived ways to alleviate one's health.
"No medicine made with ordinary ingredients can provide the permanent restorative effects of a ritual. Extraordinary ingredients are very rare, and most of them are not suitable for restorative medicine," Old Neil explained casually.
"I see..." mumbled Selina.
In the documents from the Church of Earth Mother. There were many formulas that she found strange and complicated, requiring rituals that made Old Neil teach her about ritualistic magic. Not only that, there were also ingredients that the formula heavily relied to, with detailed description of why they are required during the concoction, which are all unfamiliar to her.
However, thanks to it, her confidence in concocting a medicine and drugs have gone up a few points.
Perhaps those drugs are the extraordinary ones. The Pain Killer I made earlier seemed to be one of the few regular ones that were added...
"Hmm... For Apothecaries, this can be achieved, but for low sequences? Haha, I doubt that would happen." Old Neil donned his top hat.
In doing so, he turned to Rozanne and said, "I'll be off, the ritual was exhausting. Tell Dunn Smith to lie down for awhile. Thank the Goddess his injuries weren't heavy but proper rest is still needed."
Selina watched as Rozanne nod succinctly at Old Neil's figure reaching for the door.
Thud!
Before leaving, she recalled Old Neil's comment about her attire.
Right, I should visit Mrs. Orianna...
She turned and walked to the corner office for her uniform. After receiving it and deducting a few pounds from her wallet which was not mentioned, she bade farewell to Rozanne and left.
The air was tainted with all sorts of smell. With the sunhat over her head, she briskly left the vicinity and strolled.
Like what Dunn had said, 3 Zouteland Street wasn't far away from the department.
It took her exactly five minutes to make her way to the described Shooting Range.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Her steps were faint against the hard cold stone of the stairs.
She reached a heavy door at the end and pushed it open.
After presenting her badge to the officer by the hall, she received a number.
In the process of inspecting her badge, the officer did multiple glances, mumbled a few words to himself before finally assigning her in one of the booths.
She was at the farthest side of the corridor. If she were to leave, it will take a few seconds to reach the entrance.
Bang! Bang!
A few gunshot rang from one of the firing lane and across her booth, signifying that another person was practicing apart from her.
After setting her gun holster and uniform clothes on a bench. She hefted her first revolver, a 45mm that belong to her father's.
It was a bit heavy, the familiar sensation she had before that is both reassuring and comforting.
To remind of her that if ever there is a danger, she would have a weapon to defend rather than using a long, pointy hairpin.
Bang!
Selina used both hands just to trigger a single shot.
She staggered, her left feet balanced her stance from the recoil just in time before a fall. This simple testing confirmed a few things, yet it whirled her mind in thought.
Comparing my steadiness back then, right now I feel like a total amateur.... But firing multiple shots with a mild setback, how did I do it?
Bang! Bang!
Selina fired two more bullets, barely hitting the paper target's upper torso.
By this time, she slumped to the bench, feeling the toll brought the recoil of the gun.
Phew... Selina drew a breath, slumped herself onto a nearby bench.
She silently gazed at the long firing range, taking in the tranquility of the establishment's empty corridors.
In the midst of her repose, she turned her head to look at the chest holster, bearing the revolver that Old Neil had given.
It was rather small compared to her revolver. When she hefted it for inspection, she saw that it had a simple rosewood handle, a silver base and a chamber.
It had no remarkable design except for its mark, outlining a symbol of the Goddess's sacred emblem, defining its origin.
After feeling relaxed, Selina took off from her seat and assumed her earlier stance.
Unlike her revolver, this custom designed type was a lot lighter, while the chamber was easier to load.
Click!
Selina brought the revolver's head at the level of her eye. Aimed at the suspended paper target, and with a turn of the trigger.
Bang!
It was smoother. She felt a brief recoil but it was more manageable.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Almost all of her gun shots missed, some barely shot it by a few centimeters.
However, regardless of this death-defying inaccuracies for the dummy, Selina felt herself in a good mood.
Twisting her empty revolver by her index finger, rotating it as if imitating one of the gun slingers she watched back in her apartment.
For a few times, she had sheathed it in the pocket of her dress. Then, when she felt her imagination getting intense, she would quickly draw it and take on a stance.
The iconic stance of having their left arm bend above the revolver's sear while the right hand holding it aims without precision.
Of course, throughout the entire time, her customary revolver was devoid of any bullets.
This went on until she felt her stomach petitioning for a meal.
Preparing her things to leave. Selina began considering her dinner as she opened the door of the booth, intending to head out.
[1] Right stickybeak is a New Zealand colloquialism. It comes from the metaphor of an inquisitive person constantly "sticking their beak" (nose) into other people's business.