What Witch? This Alchemist is Breaking Bad!

A few minutes later, Leon led Weiss into the reception room.

“Please have a seat, Bishop.” Leon invited Weiss to sit before walking toward the tea cabinet.

“I’ll make some tea for you.”

“No need. Let’s save some time.” Weiss stopped Leon, pointing to another chair by the tea table to signal for him to sit down.

“Alright.” Leon turned back and carefully took his seat.

“Regarding the criminal’s situation, could you explain it to me in detail? Why are you so insistent on not transferring the criminal to Saint Rosalia Prison?” Weiss asked Leon.

“Bishop Weiss—” Leon spoke while thinking through a suitable excuse.

“You should have already seen the case file and gained a certain understanding of the criminal’s situation. I believe you already know this: the criminal has a daughter. The reason she was forced by the underworld to become a witch and refine mana for them was because her family owed a huge sum of money. She did it to prevent her daughter from bearing that debt.”

“I know. Her daughter should already be in the local reformatory now.” Bishop Weiss nodded.

“This criminal doesn’t have long to live. After paying off the debt, she herself has no real desire to go on living. By coming here to turn herself in, she had already prepared herself for death. She won’t live for many more years. She wants to spend what time she has left in her hometown, and if possible, perhaps she could even get approval to see her daughter one last time. But if she were sent to Saint Rosalia Prison? That chance would be gone forever.

“Moreover, because her family accumulated massive debt over years of purchasing holy water, she harbors strong resistance toward the Healing Monastic Order. If you were to state that you are an alchemist who develops holy water, I think—if you met her, the conversation would probably not be very pleasant.” Leon fabricated a reason.

Bishop Weiss lowered her eyes.

This point was indeed difficult to refute.

Once someone entered Saint Rosalia Prison, considering the risk of leaking research secrets, no visits were permitted during the period of incarceration.

If one were to act under the banner of sympathy for the criminal, one could not ultimately bypass the criminal’s own wishes.

“Sounds like you still harbor sympathy for the criminal?” Weiss sought confirmation from Leon.

“She was forced into becoming a witch. She suffered the injustice of fate and, with no other options, relied on her own strength to fight for her daughter’s future—I respect that.” Leon replied sincerely. Half of that was the truth. Sally had chosen to accept his proposal in pursuit of a dignified death, and that was something he genuinely admired.

“I’ve repeatedly tested her medicine. It truly has remarkable effects on Saltification Disease. She found the right general direction.” Weiss said with some regret.

“If—if she could assist with experiments at the Saint Rosalia Research Institute, perhaps—she really could develop a cure for Saltification Disease.”

“You already have the medicine she left behind. That’s her achievement. Couldn’t you reproduce the medicine yourselves?” Leon asked in a lowered, probing voice.

From Weiss’s tone, it sounded as though she had already seen hope for developing a special medicine for Saltification Disease.

Leon guessed that she must at least know part of the direction.

“In the end, we cannot directly research magic potions. But if a witch were to propose a new theory, and we recorded it and conducted experiments based on it, perhaps approval could be obtained.” Weiss explained.

If she wanted to research a special medicine for Saltification Disease along the lines of magic potions, she absolutely could not initiate the project on her own.

It could only be explained as a new magic potion formula proposed by a detained witch, with the formula being verified under the pretext of researching heresy.

This was also the biggest reason she had proposed transferring Sally Heshue to Saint Rosalia Prison.

“The Church clearly knows that magic potions can cure illnesses, so why—” Leon let out a long sigh, then realized that this line of speech was not very appropriate in front of Weiss.

“Ah, that was a slip of the tongue. Please pretend you didn’t hear it.”

This thought had lingered in his mind for a long time.

The body of magical potion knowledge built around mana and monster materials had already been proven to hold enormous value in medicine, yet the Church turned a blind eye to those values and instead imposed sweeping prohibitions.

If these things were at least opened for medical use, Rena wouldn’t have had to take such risks and endure such hardship in researching special medicines—no, perhaps predecessors should have already developed a cure for Saltification Disease long ago.

Neither Rena’s grandmother nor Sally would have had to suffer so terribly from this illness.

And his own injuries—perhaps many other diseases as well—might have had a chance to receive more appropriate treatment, rather than forcing families to exhaust their fortunes on the Church’s holy water.

If the Church prohibited all of this merely to ensure a monopoly on medical resources, it seemed far too short-sighted.

Leon always felt there must be deeper reasons behind it, but he still knew too little about the Church’s internal situation.

“No, what you said makes sense. That is indeed the current state of affairs. Monsters, mana, and the power of Moirae do in fact possess a certain degree of practical value. Every scholar at the Saint Rosalia Research Institute understands this—unfortunately, the present Church remains bound by tradition and will not yield on this matter.

In fact, even if a special medicine for Saltification Disease were developed, it would most likely not be permitted for widespread use by the Church.” Bishop Weiss sighed as she spoke.

“According to the Church’s teachings, shouldn’t the gods bestow mercy upon the world?” Leon said casually.

If the gods of this world were truly as merciful toward humanity as the Church claimed, they surely wouldn’t mind humans borrowing a bit of Moirae’s power to seek their own well-being.

“The key issue here probably lies more with Moirae herself.” Weiss suddenly said in an academic, discussion-like tone.

“Whether the gods possess the kind of mercy mortals understand is another matter, but Moirae truly does harbor hatred toward humanity.”

“Moirae hates humans—then why can her power still help humans rid themselves of illness?” Leon said.

From the fact that monsters especially liked attacking humans, and from his discovery that feeding monsters with humans increased mana purity, Moirae did indeed seem to hate humanity, just as the Church claimed.

Yet mana, as the crystallization of Moirae’s power, provided many benefits to humans.

This seemed extremely contradictory.

“There are several schools of thought on that, but it’s not convenient to discuss it here.” Bishop Weiss timely cut off the topic.

She looked Leon over again.

“Actually, there are also people within the Church who are striving for reform, hoping the Church can accept the utilization of Moirae’s power—at least utilization under supervision.”

“Are you one of them?” Leon asked.

“Yes, but our school of thought is currently insignificant and receives no attention from the Church. Very few people understand us.” For the first time, a faint smile appeared at the corner of Bishop Weiss’s mouth.

“But it seems that you are one of them.”

Leon nodded gently.

He genuinely believed that if the application of monsters could be opened up, it would be a good thing for the people of this world.

“It seems I’m destined to return empty-handed this time. I should take my leave early.” Bishop Weiss rationally abandoned the idea of transferring Sally, stood up, and said, “I’ll go speak with Bishop Becket myself.”

“Alright.” Leon inwardly let out a sigh of relief.

Bishop Weiss turned to look Leon over again.

After thinking for a moment, she suddenly leaned closer, lowered her voice, and spoke in a tone only the two of them could hear: “By the way, when do you get off work?”

Leon was stunned.

What was this female bishop up to, suddenly asking about his off-duty time in such a furtive manner?

This wasn’t the first time she had said or done something that invited misunderstanding, but Leon quickly calmed himself and gave an answer.

“In about two hours. Do you have something you need me to handle?”

Thinking calmly about it, it had to be some matter she wanted his help with.

Surely she wasn’t asking him out for a private rendezvous.

Then he heard Bishop Weiss continue, “After you get off work, wait at the third intersection east of the main gate. My carriage will come to pick you up. There are some things that aren’t convenient to talk about here.”

Leon froze.

Bishop Weiss didn’t wait for his response before leaving the reception room, as though the matter was already settled.

Leon stood there, utterly perplexed.

When he finally pushed the door open and went out, he saw Bishop Weiss already entering the Director’s Office.

She probably only went in to exchange a few polite farewell words with Bishop Becket.

She came out quickly, then nodded toward Leon across the corridor, seemingly reminding him not to forget what she had just said.

After that, she headed toward the staircase and disappeared around the corner.

Leon thought for a moment, then walked over and knocked on the door of the Director’s Office.

“Come in.” Bishop Becket responded.

“Sir, has she given up?” Leon closed the door and confirmed with Bishop Becket.

“You successfully persuaded her. That’s good. Her sudden visit really startled me—I thought something had gone wrong.” Bishop Becket smiled, then quickly wiped the smile away.

“Let me confirm something with you. You truly have no connection whatsoever with this saintess bishop of the Creator Church, correct?”

“Yes.” Leon nodded.

He truly had no special relationship with Weiss.

He was somewhat concerned about the message Weiss had just left him.

After hesitating for a moment, he decided to wait and see and did not plan to tell Bishop Becket about it yet.

“That’s good. Then let me give you an advance warning—” Bishop Becket’s expression turned unusually Sallyous, and his voice dropped to an exceptionally low register.

“This saintess bishop is our enemy!”