What Witch? This Alchemist is Breaking Bad!

Arend Island Pier.

Accompanied by Father Oden, Leon stepped off the ferry and onto the wooden pier.

“Oh, I truly hate drifting on the water!” Father Oden, after stepping onto the pier, planted his hands on his hips and took deep breaths of fresh air. His constitution made him especially prone to seasickness whenever he traveled by boat.

Leon inspected the newly refurbished pier.

The damaged wooden planks had been completely repaired, and the flat ground and roads along the shore used for boarding and unloading had also been repaved.

The rotten warehouses had all been torn down and rebuilt into sturdy brick houses.

Some hired craftsmen were still busy laying bricks.

The lighthouse had also been repaired; one of Leon’s subordinates was stationed inside, keeping watch in all directions. When Leon looked up, their gazes met, and the man immediately bowed respectfully.

The scattered trash and those broken ships that had once littered the pier had all been dragged away and disposed of.

Now several cargo ships transporting reconstruction materials and personnel were docked there.

Workers moved back and forth with handcarts unloading goods from the ships. Seabirds rose and fell upon the gunwales. The place had already begun operating like a normal pier.

“The pier can already be used. It’s just that transporting goods to River Valley County now means your ships aren’t quite enough. Shall I introduce you to purchase a few more? How about three cargo ships the same as before?” Father Oden asked Leon for instructions.

“That’s fine,” Leon replied.

“There’s another matter. The goods used for disguise—you’d better not reuse them. Shipping them over and then shipping them back again. If discovered, it would look suspicious at a glance, and the accounts would be hard to handle,” Father Oden said.

The mana essence, magical potions, and various magical beast materials produced from the labyrinth were all prohibited items that would be reported immediately upon inspection.

Naturally, they had to be mixed in with normal goods as camouflage.

Arend Island had no real industry.

On Leon’s side, flour, sugar, spices, handicrafts, and other common cargo items were transported to the island, then mixed with the prohibited goods produced by the labyrinth and shipped back, after which they were distributed layer by layer.

“So what do you suggest?” Leon asked.

“I suggest you establish some industry on Arend Island. For example, in the village on that side of the island, there’s a windmill mill owned by Viscount Arend. It’s currently mortgaged to the Watcher Merchant Consortium. Hardly anyone farms the island’s land, and what little is grown are just potatoes and vegetables. The mill has been sitting idle until now.

You could buy the mill. In the future, transport some wheat to the island, grind it into flour at the mill, bag it up, and mix my goods into the flour sacks for transport. Not only would it be easier to disguise, it would also reduce transport losses caused by bumps and knocks,” the priest said.

“You’re asking me to handle the debt assets of your other client again?” Leon raised an eyebrow.

Father Oden had been urging him to purchase assets on Arend Island. It seemed the priest had not given up on letting him absorb Viscount Arend’s bad debt.

That way, he could obtain a money laundering fee from Leon, settle the debt handled by the Watcher Merchant Consortium through his hands, and also receive a hefty commission—profiting from both sides!

“I’m merely offering the best advice as your consultant. This proposal is simply a win-win. It benefits me, and it benefits you,” Father Oden said.

“If we purchase assets on the western side of the island, won’t that Viscount’s daughter have objections?” Leon asked.

Now that Viscount Arend and Adele had already relinquished control over the eastern side of the island, whether it was the labyrinth that had once served as a mine or the pier, whatever Leon did there, they could only turn a blind eye.

But on the western side of the island were villages and the Viscount’s residence. Purchasing assets and transporting goods there—Adele would certainly notice.

“The mill has already been mortgaged to the Watcher Merchant Consortium. The fishermen don’t need the Viscount’s consent to sell their goods to anyone. This has nothing to do with her. And the transport of prohibited goods won’t pass through there anyway. Even if Miss Adele has any objections—” Father Oden paused here, “all I need to do is tell her you’ll go speak with her, and she’ll behave.”

By now, Leon’s existence had become Father Oden’s trump card against Adele. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

In the past, when he couldn’t win arguments against her, he could only resort to evasive tactics by bypassing her and negotiating directly with the Viscount.

But now, at the slightest dispute, all he had to do was invoke Leon’s name, and Adele would fall silent, grinding her teeth and muttering “despicable” at the priest.

“Also, regarding the pier east of Caster Town that we often use—there’s actually a guild there. Well, to be honest, it’s a gang. If your fleet increases in size, according to their rules, you’ll have to pay them dues. Otherwise, they’ll cause trouble. And if they happen to discover we’re transporting prohibited goods, it would be troublesome—” Father Oden said.

“Do I need to handle such people myself?” Leon raised an eyebrow at the priest. “Don’t tell me Porter had to look at the faces of people like them.”

The gangs and guilds at the pier were nothing more than violent groups made up of ship captains and dockworkers.

Such people were not on the same level as them. Sending a team of his thugs to have a little talk with them would be enough to make them obedient.

“Handling them is simple; there are various methods. But whichever method is used, I should seek your instructions first. Besides kicking their backsides, you could also incorporate them. In that kind of territory, these people can be useful. Their advantage is that they’re cheap, and sometimes they’re quite handy,” Father Oden said.

“Give them the stick first, then the sugar. Pick a cadre in Caster Town to handle it,” Leon replied.

“Very well. As for the ships and the mill, I’ve already organized the accounts. Let me show you,” Father Oden said, intending to hand the ledger to Leon.

“We’ll look at them together when there are other accounts later. I don’t want to look at numbers right now.” Leon raised a hand to stop him.

“If you don’t examine the accounts carefully, aren’t you afraid I’ll skim your money?” Father Oden frowned slightly.

“I’ll conduct spot checks,” Leon replied.

“Working for you is sometimes rather dull. You’re completely insensitive to money,” Father Oden sighed as he put away the ledger.

“Shouldn’t you prefer such an employer?” Leon replied.

For Father Oden, the less attentive an employer was to accounts, the greater the room he had to maneuver, and the more profit he could skim.

Yet Father Oden seemed rather displeased instead.

“If you don’t look at the accounts, you can’t appreciate how high-quality my services are. Handling money is an art!” Father Oden patted the ledger. “It seems Porter and I have more common ground in this regard. Though he lacked the boldness for this line of work, he was sharp enough as a merchant.”

“Then I truly apologize,” Leon smiled, looking toward the direction of the labyrinth. “The money has been coming too fast lately. I haven’t quite adjusted yet.”

After the labyrinth began operating, magical potions and mana essence had been produced continuously from within.

They were repackaged in the warehouse, mixed into other goods, transported to the pier, and then shipped to various places in River Valley County and South Harbor County.

Some mana essence was also transported to Foyle, where it was purchased by the Count and supplied to other territories.

In less than half a year, the assets in his and Rena’s hands had snowballed, now long surpassing ten million.

This was something he could never have imagined in the past. The money had come too fast; to him, it seemed to have become a mere number.

Whether it increased or decreased slightly hardly mattered.

“Oh, what a luxurious trouble,” Father Oden raised an eyebrow. “But don’t forget how hard it was for you to earn that money. Have you forgotten how you once struggled?”

“Of course I haven’t forgotten, Father. But for me, money is no longer the most important thing. I don’t lack money now. What I need now—” Leon said thoughtfully, “is power!”

To rescue Sally from prison, what he needed was power.

For that, the position of Director of the Hamel Town Inquisition was the minimum requirement.

“You’ll soon obtain it, won’t you? The assessment went smoothly, I presume.” Father Oden seemed to think of something and grinned. “To earn the appreciation of that Wilson Miller—impressive indeed.”

“How do you know about that as well?” Leon glanced at Father Oden in surprise.

After returning, he had never mentioned the details of his assessment, nor had he spoken of Bishop Miller.

“I subscribe to the academic journal issued by the District Church. The esteemed Bishop Miller recently presided over the rank advancement assessment and published, in the column he oversees, a conjecture on atomic theory written by a certain examinee during the assessment—authored by Leon Set. Unfortunately, I have little study in Natural Philosophy and can’t quite understand your work. I had no idea you were such a cultured man, with such research in this field!”

This was the first Leon had heard that Bishop Miller had actually published his conjecture in the Church’s journal. He could only respond casually, “Just a slight interest.”

“In any case, given Wilson’s influence, your paper should stir some discussion in certain circles. Quite rare for him to do something like this,” Father Oden remarked.

Leon felt something was off upon hearing this. “You speak as though you’re quite familiar with him?”

Bishop Miller was the Dean of the District Church’s Institute of Natural Philosophy, a First-Rank Archbishop.

Compared to a local priest without rank like Father Oden, he was worlds apart. Yet Father Oden addressed him rather casually.

“We were classmates.” Father Oden shrugged. “From the town church school to the District Church’s Institute of Natural Philosophy, we studied together the whole way. We were on good terms. Even now, we occasionally correspond.”

“Seriously?” Leon was somewhat surprised. “Your classmate is an archbishop, and you’re a small-town priest in Hamel Town—an unruly priest who mixes with the underworld?”

“He came from a prestigious family and was a genuine genius. Children of commoners with some means and children of nobles could both attend Church schools, but that didn’t mean their futures were the same. Many things are decided at birth—” Father Oden paused, looking at Leon, then changed his tone, “not everyone can carve out a path like you did.”

At this point, Leon recalled Bishop Miller’s invitation and asked, “Father Oden, how much do you know about the Prophet Church?”

With Father Oden’s sharp mind, he immediately sensed something. “Don’t tell me Wilson invited you to join the Prophet Church?”