Seated on the edge of my bed, the chanical grinder was positioned precisely beside .
Carefully, I opened the glass container that held the cocaine crystals.
With firm but controlled movents, I poured a moderate amount of crystals into the chanical grinder.
The sound of the hard pieces hitting the tal container echoed faintly through the room.
I grabbed the lever with determination and began to turn it.
The gears creaked softly as the crystals started to break apart.
"CRAKK~~"
"Crack~~"
After a few minutes of steady work, the powder was ready.
I opened the grinder and examined the inside carefully.
There it was—a vibrant, bright white powder, with a purity I hadn’t expected.
This is... surprising!
The texture was perfect, and the shine reflected exceptional quality.
For a mont, I pondered the origin of the raw materials.
The ingredients in this world truly possess greater potential than those of my previous world.
It makes sense, considering this place is saturated with elental particles.
Perhaps this purity is a direct result of that.
Carefully, I transferred the refined powder into a clean glass container.
I repeated this process until all 1.5 kilograms of cocaine had been transford into powder of the highest quality.
Sitting down again, I began to calculate.
If I divide this into 15 portions of 100 grams each and sell each portion for 5 magic crystals, that totals 75 magic crystals.
Subtracting the 10 magic crystals I spent on production, the profit would be 65 magic crystals.
The calculation is simple.
1.5 kg of cocaine = 1,500 grams.
1,500 grams / 15 portions = 1 portion of 100 grams.
1 portion of 100 grams = 5 magic crystals.
5 magic crystals × 15 portions = 75 magic crystals.
75 - 10 (production cost) = 65 magic crystals of profit.
Of course, all of this depends on finding willing buyers.
But considering what I know about the circles Charlotte frequents, I believe my hypothesis is correct.
Many acolytes would probably fall into this trap without realizing the true value of what they are trading.
The idea of a potential profit of 65 magic crystals was already exciting.
But my mind went further.
If I can reinvest the 75 magic crystals to produce more cocaine, in a short ti I could accumulate 500 magic crystals.
With that amount, it would be possible to build a fully equipped engineering laboratory.
Of course, that would allow to increase my production capacity exponentially and open new research possibilities, but... the market would beco saturated with my drug, causing prices to drop drastically, so it’s better to maintain a stable profit—sell 15 portions per week.
That would result in 300 magic crystals per month.
I let out a deep sigh, trying to calm the excitent growing inside .
I can’t be careless.
This plan is risky, and if word spreads about the profit margin I’m achieving, I’ll attract unwanted attention.
Dangerous eyes may turn toward , especially if soone wants the recipe or exclusivity of this market.
Still, this drug is sothing new here.
Sothing no one has ever seen.
If I act carefully, I can control the market before anyone realizes what is happening.
With the container securely tucked under my arm, I left my room with determination.
Alright!
Now it’s ti to sell!
I walked through the tower, and although the trip wasn’t exactly short, I knew exactly where to find Charlotte.
She always went to the sa place after working in Miguel’s mines—a less frequented area by the Acolytes, better known as a eting point for those who preferred to "stray" from their studies.
I finally arrived at the location.
The place still looked like an old bathroom, its original function long abandoned.
The walls, as before, were covered in graffiti of distorted magical runes and random symbols that looked as if they had been made by trembling hands.
I couldn’t understand that graffiti before, but now I could read most of the symbols and drawings.
The strong sll of alcohol and chemicals filled the air, almost making step back.
Near the entrance, a group of individuals were in various states of consciousness.
So danced clumsily, others jumped as if the floor were on fire, while so were simply sprawled on the ground, their eyes lost in so illusory void.
I couldn’t help but frown in disgust.
What a deplorable sight.
These people—all Acolytes—should be seeking knowledge, true power.
Instead, they were here, desperately trying to escape the brutal reality that surrounds us.
I reached the bathroom door, preparing to knock, but before I could, I felt a sticky hand on my shoulder.
Instinctively, I turned to face whoever dared to touch .
It was a boy... No, looking closer, I realized it was an aberration with a frog’s head.
He was clearly insane—his bloodshot eyes and trembling posture gave him away.
The sll emanating from him was unbearable, as if he had been living in a sewer for weeks.
—Are you new here? What’s that white powder in the container? he asked, pointing with a trembling finger at the glass jar I was carrying.
"Ugggggg~~"
Before I could answer, he bent forward and vomited right in front of , a sight that nearly made do the sa.
—Disgusting, I muttered, and without thinking twice, I flexed my arm and shoved him back hard.
—Don’t touch , abomination! I said coldly, watching him hit the ground with a thud.
He lay there, laughing like a lunatic, completely oblivious to the humiliation he had just suffered.
This guy has probably lost whatever remained of his mind.
That’s what happens when you consu that garbage regularly.
I quickly observed the group around him.
They seed to be in the sa state as he was.
All addicts—probably Level 1 acolytes or even novices who gave up too early on the path of knowledge after realizing that, with their poor talents, they were destined for the bottom of the magical world.
However, there were exceptions, like Charlotte, a 4-star Acolyte.
I turned my attention back to the door.
"Knock, knock," I tapped lightly, trying to avoid drawing too much attention.
After a few monts of waiting, the door opened.
The interior was even more crowded than the outside.
The people inside were in a state of frantic agitation.
Is there so kind of party?
A celebration?
I wondered silently, frowning.
When Charlotte brought here last ti, the place was busy—but never like this.
Sothing is different.
Maybe this is the perfect opportunity to introduce my product.
I stepped inside, maintaining a confident but alert expression.
My eyes searched for Charlotte as I ntally prepared to take the next step of my plan.
If this crowd is willing to pay the price, I could profit far more than I expected.
But obviously, I wouldn’t be foolish enough to sell cocaine without the permission of the owner of this place.
I didn’t want to cause trouble on my first day.
Walking among the youths, I gave a ntal command to my biochip.
—Search! Charlotte.
["Beep!"]
["Searching..."]
The cold, chanical response echoed in my mind, followed by a thin blue ray scanning my field of vision, analyzing the facial features of the people around .
The biochip worked efficiently, cross-referencing Charlotte’s facial paraters with the data stored in my mory.
Even in this chaotic environnt—where flashing lights and loud music distorted the senses—I trusted it to do its job.
While waiting for the result, I issued another ntal command.
—What is the air quality here?
["The air is filled with toxic particles... I recomnd not remaining in this environnt for long."]
I expected that answer.
This place was a disaster for anyone with even a shred of common sense or concern for their health.
It was like breathing a chemical cocktail.
Another reason to leave quickly.
A few seconds later, the biochip finally located Charlotte.
["Target found!"]
A virtual overlay highlighted her position on the second floor.
She was sitting in a circle of girls around a table crowded with bottles of drinks.
Teenagers... Idiots...
Without wasting ti, I crossed the dance floor, dodging swaying bodies and a bartender tossing bottles into the air in an improvised show.
When I reached the staircase along the wall, I began climbing the steps, ignoring the curious glances from a few people.
On the second floor, I quickly located Charlotte’s group.
She was laughing with the other girls, holding a glass that shimred with a colorful liquid.
Around her, four other girls were seated, all of them looking slightly affected by the alcohol.
The girl to Charlotte’s left was thin and tall, with lilac hair tied up in a ssy bun.
She gestured exaggeratedly as she spoke, spilling a bit of her drink without noticing.
—You should’ve seen his face! Completely lost! she said, laughing uncontrollably.
....
Please. I need power stones and a 5-star rating. I know it sounds cliché, but it helps because I work as a writer and without your support, I couldn’t continue. So please, help this poor writer.
Please!!! Reader-san.
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