Returnee from Another World - Chapter 19: The Poison of Muleduel

Chapter 19: The Poison of Muleduel

I stopped by a convenience store to test it, and the customer sensor reacted clearly.

The clerk shouldn’t have been able to see me.

He glanced toward the entrance when the automatic door opened, probably thinking it was a gust of wind causing a glitch. He quickly returned to his work as if nothing happened.

That was all I needed to confirm, so I left without entering.

The preliminary checks were mostly done.

But this wasn’t my main goal. Among the items in my dimensional storage, there’s something else I wanted to investigate in this world.

I just decided the Mirage Coat would be useful for keeping it discreet.

I wanted to handle this as secretly as possible.

Other items would be troublesome if discovered, but this one could cause a huge stir, even if no one traced it back to me. I wanted to minimize the risk.

Why? Because this is something the entire world would crave.

Reaching the general hospital, I slipped in through the nighttime emergency entrance.

I cracked open the double glass doors just enough to slide through.

Thanks to my quick, quiet entry, the person in the night reception room to my right didn’t notice.

I moved straight down the corridor as if nothing was amiss.

Reaching the open central hallway that stretched up to the second floor, I changed direction toward the lobby.

I’d been to this hospital a few times before but had no clue about its layout.

Checking the directory in the lobby, I found my target: the pediatric ward, located on the third floor and above in the east wing.

Using my ability, I searched for terminally ill patients in the hospital as I headed to the east wing.

This ability works fine if I can clearly visualize a name or form, but vague conditions often fail.

I don’t fully understand how it works, but this time, it narrowed down perfectly.

If it hadn’t, I’d have had to search manually, which would’ve taken forever since I can’t read medical charts.

I ignored patients in the west and north wings—likely adults. I was looking for a child with an incurable disease.

The reason? Simply, a child is less likely to draw attention. I planned to use the Poison of Muleduel on them.

Hydra’s venomous blood. A black jet fragment. A Ghoul Lord’s heart. A Phoenix Bird’s egg. A high-grade antidote.

Thanks to the recipe in the forbidden Book of Algabana, I managed to create it, though the Poison of Muleduel is something any alchemist in that world knows about.

In that world, the ultimate goal for alchemists is undoubtedly the elixir of immortality.

Whether they pursue it or not, every alchemist dreams of it at least once.

But until I returned to this world, I’d never heard of anyone discovering its recipe. Even the Book of Algabana had no mention of immortality.

It might be impossible in that world, considered a true divine taboo.

When alchemists give up on immortality, their next goal is a panacea.

For injuries, there’s the convenient Healing Potion, which heals wounds far faster than normal.

It reduces bleeding, lowering death rates significantly, but it’s useless against diseases or disorders.

For me, both Healing Potions and panaceas are irrelevant, but I studied them out of alchemical curiosity. That’s how I learned of a legendary tale.

Long ago, twin alchemists named Mule and Duel lived hidden in a remote forest.

They were not only skilled alchemists but also exceptional mages.

Alchemy requires not just wisdom but also access to rare materials, which they had.

After years of research, they created a panacea.

A secret medicine no one had achieved before.

Using it, they saved the daughter of a close acquaintance from a fatal illness, sparking tragedy.

The rumor spread quickly, bringing Mule and Duel fame.

Soon, people from all over begged for the medicine, some even buying it at high prices and surviving.

But some ingredients were extremely rare.

With only three vials left, they couldn’t satisfy everyone, no matter the payment.

After much deliberation, they decided to give the medicine only to unavoidable figures of power.

It didn’t take long to realize their mistake.

One vial ended up with the third prince of their kingdom, who’d suffered a chronic illness. Upon drinking it, he writhed in agony and died.

It was a problem bound to happen.

The hydra’s venom wasn’t the issue—it was neutralized by the antidote.

The problem was that a small percentage of people couldn’t tolerate the medicine. Instead of curing, it triggered a fatal rejection.

It just happened to affect a key figure.

Mule and Duel’s oversight made it their responsibility, a cautionary tale.

As a result, they were executed, and their research turned to ash in a dark tale.

There’s a rumor—unverified—that a soldier who burned their home secretly took some of their research.

I don’t know what’s true, but the Book of Algabana detailed the recipe and ways to minimize rejection.

Climbing the stairs, I reached the third floor.

It was nighttime, so I hadn’t passed anyone, but that wouldn’t last.

A nurse station in the center overlooked the ward, with two nurses visible at the edge of my sight.

There might be others patrolling. I had to avoid bumping into them.

Treading softly and staying alert, I followed my ability’s direction.

I reached Room 307, which had two nameplates and one blank slot—likely a three-person room.

I could only hope no surveillance cameras were watching. Wearing gloves, I turned the lever handle, opened the door just enough, and slipped inside.

Once inside, I realized my ability pointed to two targets in this room.

Both children were indicated, though I sensed another upstairs. One was enough.

Opening the curtain, I saw a boy and a girl sleeping.

Moonlight illuminated their faces.

I looked down coldly, deciding which to choose.

The boy was Yuki Sato, the girl Kaede Hojo.

Nameplates above their beds listed their doctors. It wasn’t about wasting two doses—I just thought two simultaneous miracles would be too conspicuous.

Removing my gloves, I took a homemade corked ampule from my dimensional storage.

I poured its contents into the boy’s open mouth as he slept.

About 2ml—roughly less than a teaspoon (5ml), just an estimate.

More could cause rejection issues. It needed five doses over five weeks. The small amount didn’t wake him; he slept deeply.

I waited for results.

If red rashes appeared, it’d mean incompatibility.

After ten minutes, no change. Confirming this, I left the room quietly.

◇

“Thank you. I’ve wanted this shoulder bag forever.”

“No, no, thank Yasu-san. It’s his gift to you, Akari-san.”

“I know, but Yacchan’s the type to give a single flower for my birthday. It’s sweet if it’s heartfelt, though.”

I was at Yasunaga’s shop.

Knowing I can’t get drunk, I came for business with Yasunaga.

I understood his offers weren’t pure kindness, but constantly refusing would strain things. I planned to play along lightly, without owing favors.

“Akari-chan, I’ll take over.”

“Oh, Sayaka-san. Please take care. Masuda-san, see you next time.”

Akari left, and Sayaka sat beside me.

I hadn’t requested her. I’d said any available woman was fine.

Honestly, I didn’t expect Sayaka, the shop’s top girl, to join me.

“Won’t the other customers mind?”

“Oh? Am I intruding?”

“Not at all. I just didn’t think I was a big enough customer for you, Sayaka-san.”

“Hehe, it’s not about the shop. They didn’t ask me—I just wanted to get closer to Jay-san.”

“Really?”

Sayaka poured my drink, her seductive smile exuding a mature allure unlike Kyouka or Ayano.

“So, did you think about last time?”

“Last time?”

“About keeping me.”

“What? That was serious? I thought it was a joke.”

“I’m serious. If it’s not a bother, I’d like to be yours.”

“With respect, isn’t this something Yasunaga-san put you up to?”

“Well, last time, there was some of that. But this is different—purely personal. Am I not good enough?”

“No, it’s not that. It’s just sudden, and I’m a bit thrown.”

Her hand slid to my thigh, teasing just shy of my groin.

When a woman comes on this strong, I can’t help but suspect something. Logically, it’s likely about money.

My James Masuda persona isn’t bad—a middle-aged, dapper half-Japanese man.

“You might think I’m strange, but I have a knack for knowing who’s right for me.”

“Interesting. Like you see something?”

“More like feel. My grandma had strong intuition, and I follow mine when deciding things.”

Her talk of intuition is probably an excuse.

She likely knows from Yasunaga that I have money. Honestly, I’d feel better if she just admitted it’s about cash.

“Hmm. It’s tempting, but…”

“Well, Jay-san, if you’re free, how about drinks, just us, after this? I’m off early today. You can think about keeping me later.”

“Sure, why not.”

I agreed because her aura showed blue (【Calm】, 【Assurance】) with a hint of yellow (【Expectation】, 【Interest】).

People with deceitful intentions often have black or purple auras. Seeing none suggested she wasn’t trying to trap me.

Still, despite my rationalizing, maybe I just couldn’t resist my own desires.

I was already wondering how to make Sayaka mine.