The elderly gardener left the job he had worked for 30 years and went to the headquarters of Vergsong rchant Union in Vegas.
He requested a eting with the chairwoman.
Anais Vergsong was not soone you can easily et just because you wanted to.
No matter if he was the forr manager of a tomato greenhouse, there was a big difference in status between him and the chairwoman of the conglorate.
But Gascon was sure he would et her.
He pretended to be just an old man who knew only grass and trees, but in reality, he was cunning and shrewd. Having resided in the Sebjeong Manor for 30 years, he had acquired a keen sense and astuteness not unlike seasoned politicians.
As Anais read the letter he had sent, she felt a bitter taste in her mouth.
The letter contained greetings reminiscing about their last eting, but the true intention was as follows:
"Have you not received the gift I gave you? Please fulfil my request as well."
If what he had given her were just ordinary items, she would have reciprocated with sothing more expensive and washed her hands of it.
But she couldn’t do that with the Golden Tomato. Find your next adventure on empire
It was harvested from a tree that was only one of its kind in the world, yielding fewer than 100 fruits a year.
The Sebjeong sent it as a gift to royal families and major figures of various countries every year.
When ranked among the world’s powerful, more than half of the Top 100 were recipients of this gift.
So, even if she received it not from the Sebjeong but from the gardener, the news elevated her reputation montarily.
There’s no such thing as a free lunch in the world.
If you received sothing, you had to give back sothing of equal value. That was the rule of this world.
She admitted to herself that she had been naive.
She had fallen for the stubborn deanor of the old craftsman.
Her uncle’s advice ca to mind.
"Whenever you receive sothing as a favor, leave evidence of it."
If it were soone with a thicker skin on the field, this wouldn’t have happened.
The world would have known in one way or another that it was a gift from the gardener as an act of contrition.
But she chose to end it with the conversation that had taken place between them.
She relied too much on the formal position of the Sebjeong and overlooked the risk of informal conversation.
Her lack of experience in dealing with people was now glaringly evident.
She had no choice but to usher the old man into the reception room.
"Welco, Mr. Halidon. I was quite surprised to hear about your unexpected retirent not long ago."
She said as if she had been interested in the contents of the docunt she had received from the secretary’s office five minutes ago.
Anais couldn’t fathom the intention behind his visit no matter how much she thought about it.
There was no reason for him to draw the line by using a card like the Golden Tomato.
So, after exchanging brief greetings, when he brought up the main topic, she couldn’t help but be quite surprised.
"You want to et Director Wonderstein?"
She never expected that na to co out of his mouth.
She asked, barely concealing her confusion.
"May I know the reason?"
"I want to make him my disciple."
He exclaid about how amazing Wonderstein’s skills were, which he witnessed.
Anais felt a mixture of perplexity and delight.
To think that the manager of a tomato greenhouse had talents worth praising.
What kind of childhood did he have, after all?
She was glad that soone other than herself recognized his worth.
But wanting to make him a disciple was an absurd notion.
The Wonderstein she knew was a man who dedicated himself to the circus.
Would he really accept the old man’s proposal?
For now, she said she understood and sent Gascon away.
As the chairwoman of Vergsong, it was a problem she didn’t need to ponder further.
It was a great business deal if only with one introduction, she could solve the Golden Tomato’s dilemma.
But personally, she needed to think a little more.
"Will he accept that old man?"
She opened the drawer.
There were letters exchanged between them over the past few months.
Most of the letters she sent were mundane everyday stories, while his letters mostly consisted of progress reports on training and financial expenditure.
To others, it might seem incomprehensible why Anais kept these letters as if they were love letters.
But to her, they ant sothing different.
A man and a woman, concentrating on their own work and dreams from afar, exchanging news only through letters.
Encouraging each other until one’s dream finally ca true, leading to a confession.
It was romantic.
She let out a bashful smile.
While pondering how to handle the matter of the gas tank, a letter arrived from Yeterinpuurk.
It was from Wonderstein, stating that the Ella was involved in an accident and suffered mory loss, needing help.
Since using ntal magic was risky, he asked to explore other thods.
Anais agreed imdiately, trusting his judgnt in dical matters.
She chose Wonderstein’s suggestion of utilizing the power of the Alchemist Guild for treatnt.
This way, she could address both issues simultaneously.
Gascon was one of the Masters of the Alchemist Guild.
Of course, being a Master didn’t grant him significant power.
The Alchemist Guild wasn’t a secretive cult as it might appear to outsiders.
It was more like a guild of craftsn and experts trading skills, information, and materials, akin to a rchants’ association controlling the distribution and pricing of goods.
The position of the Gascon as a Master of herbalism was similar to that of a chairman of a modern farming cooperative.
He warmly welcod her proposal.
If he could make Wonderstein owe a debt, it made it easier for him to agree.
"Nice to et you, Director Wonderstein. Our eting is fateful. Do you rember?"
"… The gardener inspiration I t at the hotel?"
He introduced his other identity.
"An alchemist… I see. I apologize for calling you an inspiration."
"No, no. I find that title ’inspiration’ quite endearing and appealing. Haha, keep calling that."
Gascon offered a friendly laugh.
He did so to leave a good impression on Wonderstein by any ans necessary.
"Have you tried many of these treatnt thods?"
"Don’t worry. I even occasionally assisted the wife of the Lord of Sebjeong when she felt unwell, and when the Lord suffered severe headaches during work, I provided incense for him."
For the first few days, Gascon focused on devising Ella’s treatnt plan.
He blended various herbs, gradually adjusting the proportions to suit her body.
But as ti passed, he beca more talkative.
"Are you still not interested in gardening?"
"Cultivating plants isn’t just about landscaping in gardens."
"It’s just a pity to waste your talents because of your circumstances."
"It’s not necessarily about following in my footsteps. You could beco the manager of the ginseng field at the Kiev royal palace or set foot in the Mandrake Garden protected by the Alchemist Guild."
Gascon called him repeatedly, saying that learning to cultivate plants would be beneficial.
Of course, Wonderstein’s response remained consistent.
"Is that so?"
"Indeed."
"Is that right?"
It was perfect indifference.
In the first place, his use of gardening skills at the Luz Hotel was to evaluate the efficacy of the skill book.
He had no interest in tasks like gardening.
Above all, he had no ti to spare for such matters given his current objectives.
As if that weren’t troubleso enough, another problem arose recently.
As soon as she opened the door and entered, she greeted him with that.
"What kind of treatnt are you doing again? I’m really fine! It’s eating up too much ti, and my practice ti is decreasing!"
"Do you think a wound from the Grim Reaper’s scythe will heal just by sleeping and waking up? There’s sothing called post-traumatic stress!"
"You treated for days! But there’s been no improvent? Grandpa isn’t getting any better?"
"What, Grandpa? Oh, you foolish girl! Back then, we were just adjusting the dication mixture, the real treatnt starts today!"
"Foolish girl? You, you old geezer… Oh, sorry, Director!"
"Oh, old geezer… huh? You’re here?"
The faces of the two people, distorted with anger, softened imdiately upon seeing Wonderstein.
Wonderstein looked at them with an awkward smile.
Gascon and Ella.
Their shouting matches had been responsible for half of the recent noise coming from this villa.
Their relationship hadn’t always been like this.
Initially, Ella reciprocated Wonderstein’s polite gestures of respect towards the old man.
But as Gascon kept leading Wonderstein astray, their relationship took a sharp turn.
Ella started behaving rudely towards him, picking fights, while Gascon, trying to make him his disciple, complained about her unnecessarily, accusing her of circus-like behaviors and distracting Wonderstein with talk of training and competition strategies.
"Director, please persuade this girl."
Wonderstein looked at the black-haired girl who was refusing treatnt.
She sat on the bed with a stubborn expression.
"Miss Ella, didn’t we say the treatnt is absolutely necessary?"
She pouted at his words.
"Why do you keep insisting on treatnt? Am I going crazy or sothing?"
"That’s not it…"
"I don’t want to entrust my body to that old man! Do you not worry about what he might do while I’m asleep?"
"What!"
Gascon was about to burst out but Wonderstein stopped him.
"Alright. Then shall I administer the treatnt?"
Their faces lit up simultaneously at his words.
"What? Really?"
"Ha, is it true?"
Ella was glad that he would personally take care of her, and Gascon was relieved that he could finally teach him sothing.
Wonderstein registered the prescription in his skill book.
Of course, that alone couldn’t cure Ella.
He knew from past experience that the skill book only taught one-dinsional skills.
Detailed instructions had to co from Gascon.
"Yes, yes. So, you have to apply the leeches to eight different acupoints…"
As Gascon imparted the treatnt plan, he seed to be unable to stop talking.
Wasn’t this guy who seed to have no interest in his own skills effortlessly executing everything he was taught in one go?
’What a waste to use such talent for re tricks! I must accept him as my disciple!’
After an hour of learning the instructions, Wonderstein began Ella’s treatnt.
Ella, who ca out of the adjacent room wearing pajamas, found the room filled with smoke.
The area around the bed was dense with smoke emanating from the censers.
She looked around for Wonderstein.
"Do I… do I have to lie down on the bed and inhale this…?"
At that mont, the masked figure appeared behind her.
"Hehe, it’s okay. I’ll lay you down."
"Wa, wait… w-what!"
He slipped his arms under her legs and waist and lifted her up.
Her small body fit snugly into his embrace.
"W-what are you doing! Let go!"
She blushed deeply and tried to wriggle out of his arms, but to no avail.
He held her struggling form and approached the bed directly.
The smoke from the censers enveloped her.
She gasped for breath.
Her pupils beca dazed, and she stared blankly into space.
She quickly slipped into a semi-conscious state.
"Ah… dangerously…"
"I heard you pretended to drink before to deceive Master, hehe. I’m sorry. I should have prevented that."
He mocked her in her intoxicated state and laid her down on the bed.
"Now, relax. Lift your right arm."
"Umm…"
She obediently followed his instructions like a doll.
He placed herbal redies soaked in heat on her arms, neck, and forehead.
"Mmm…"
With each relaxation, moans escaped from her lips.
Finally, he placed the gas-prepared elixir in her mouth.
"Now, chew it finely and let it lt in your mouth."
"Got it…"
It was a drug that stimulated her mory center.
Confirming her struggle with the elixir, he hung curtains around her bed and left the room.
Thud.
The door closed.
At that mont, Ella’s pupils, who had been staring blankly into space, regained their light.
As she exhaled the held breath, smoke escaped around her nose.
She hadn’t actually been intoxicated by the smoke.
The mont he appeared behind her, she understood the situation and imdiately held her breath and prepared to fake being intoxicated.
He continued to speak to confirm her intoxication, but making sounds without inhaling breath was possible with the ventriloquism she had mastered.
"Ugh, I won’t give in there…"
Rembering what had just happened, her face flushed with anger.
When she was embraced by him, she almost choked trying to hold back her breath.
As his finger montarily entered and exited her mouth to place the elixir, she almost couldn’t hold back from exhaling.
"Anyway…"
She stuck out her tongue and spat out the elixir hidden beneath it.
The elixir was almost intact, with hardly any damage.
She had only pretended to chew it, not actually swallowing it.
Since she had dried her saliva beneath her tongue beforehand, it didn’t dissolve.
"Guess treatnt isn’t needed after all."
She quietly hid it in her pocket.
Then, she inhaled the smoke and drifted off to sleep, dreaming of pleasant dreams.
There were no bad mories at all.
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