"Oh well, I might as well wing it and see if my desperation is enough to defeat the trial of fate."
『 Your way of expressing something become more and more incomprehensible as time goes on. 』
The first floor of the basement had been many things since I properly first set foot in it—which is basically now.
A storage room, an extension of my cluttered workspace above, and then, after enough rearrangement on my part, something closer to a secondary alchemy lab.
Not the kind with rows of delicate instruments, bubbling pots the size of a man, and glass tubes connected to glass tubes connected to more glass tubes.
Nothing like that.
It was practically a large space with minimum stuff on it.
Because, what I plan on making here is not a potion.
Standing at the center of the repurposed floor, I looked down at the components I had sorted and arranged on the worktable.
