Chapter 507

Floor twelve. The gangs that had objected to his presence and had tried to shake him down had given up. It had helped that Yao Jing and Jan had chosen to object to the attacks very pointedly by hunting down the groups involved in the last few floors and killing them to the man. Or woman. Arthur had not been the only one who had grown more ruthless over the last few Towers it seemed, though it was perhaps their own frustration over his refusal to keep them with him that had seen them take action in that way.

It was, unfortunately, necessary. If they spent too long watching him rather than actually working on their own crafts, he would outpace them all eventually On the other hand, if they were working on their work – blacksmithing in Yao Jing’s case, sewing in Jan’s surprisingly – they could not keep up. Both of them had, surprisingly, been quite versed at the matter, Yao Jing muttering something about working in a metal working factory. Though he, not surprisingly, was the slowest of the group.

“So, this looks like a good city to build in and have you take over,” Arthur said to Naima. “Not too far away from the others, but there’s a lot to learn and it seems like this is the beginning of the final foundational teachings. Lots to learn here, and you can spend quite a while practicing your enchanting.”

Naima nodded agreeably, seeming quite happy. She had taken to enchanting with quite the passion and was, if he had to say it, brilliant. Still, it was such a broad topic, it would take her years to get close to Journeyman in all the different branches.

“I’ll stay for a year or two. Maybe longer,” she said. “If you need me out earlier…”

“Just let me know when you’re thinking you’re getting close. Or we find someone else who is better to take over,” Arthur said.

“From Malaysia?”

“Possibly.” He tapped his fingers on the table, thinking. “Might make sense to have those I trust and who have run floors go into others, slowly. Kind of a rotation of posts.”

“Bagus lah.”

“Alright. Done.” A small motion of his hands, the Tower then bestowing her the floor boss option. He left her to it, the building’s foyer already filled with people looking to join the Clan. Word had gotten ahead of them, so Arthur was no longer surprised that they managed to gather quite such a large crowd. “Send anyone who’s working on pottery or alchemy to me, will you?”

“Can.”

She headed out the door and left Arthur to play with the clay balls he held in hand. Smaller now, the outer portions glazed over twice to reinforce the thinner material he was utilizing. The entire contraption was both more fragile and less, and he was still trying to decide on an appropriate level of fragility for his clay bombs.

Too fragile and they could break while being transported. Something that had happened more than once to Arthur, though – thankfully – only with the poison ones. They sucked, but since his Accelerated Healing kept the worst results at bay and he now carried a powder that counteracted the poisons within, less of a problem.

He also had tougher vessels, ones that he stored the Tower equivalent of explosives within them. Proper explosives, not like the tiny ones stored in the fragile vessels. They were useful, but he had to throw them hard enough for them to break, which then degraded his accuracy to some degree. Still, the shards that swept outwards afterwards were deadly, especially against certain monster types.

However, if he reinforced the balls too much, they either didn’t explode or the explosions were contained and did not scatter the shards far enough.

Worst of all, everything had to be handbuilt, the alchemical mixtures purchased individually. While he had the various alchemical formulas on him from level-to-level; that left the question of what to do when he left for another Tower.

Really, he would never have gone down this route if he wasn’t forced to make something. At which point, creating these little balls of explosives had seemed the most useful use of his time.

Emerging from his thoughts, Arthur smiled at the first person to come by. He sniffed a little, the rancid smell of unwashed alchemical goods coming from the other, setting his teeth on edge. He knew he should not be that surprised, but still, simple courtesy would have been nice.

“You’re an alchemist?” Arthur said.

Neaby, one of the others he’d recruited, a smartly dressed young man sat, ready to translate if necessary.

“I make some potions. Herbs. Salves.” Broken English, but acceptable.

“Can you make poisons? Itching powder?” Arthur said, curiously.

“No.” Arms crossed, the man shook his head. “Won’t.”

“Okay.” Not disappointed, Arthur added. “How about healing powder? Or potions that can provide healing by having something like this ball break on them?”

“Why?”

“Because I might need to throw something at a friend? Or group of friends, if they’re close by. Antidotes too, might be worthwhile. Long distance, area effect buff,” Arthur explained. That required a bit more translation, so he turned his head, regarding the others waiting. A few were listening in, obviously thinking of how they could make use of the information. He didn’t mind. It’d make the rest of the conversations go faster.

“Maybe.”

“Well, think about it. Let me know. If you can, we’ll test out the powders and how well they work.” He raised a hand before anyone could object. “You can argue prices with Jan.”

“You can pay?”

“Or you can stay for free,” Arthur said. “Take it out of your dues.”

“OK.” The man walked off without another word and Arthur turned to the next person in line, smiling wide. “Pottist?”

Once his words were translated, the woman nodded. “I make pottery, yes.”

“Great. Can you make these?” He held up one of his ceramic balls, causing her to pick it up and turn it over in her hand. While she was looking, he waved the other couple who were curious to come by and look at the others that he had. Of course, he handed them the empties.

No reason to let them break it and cause havoc.

While they were talking, he turned to the next person in line. Time to see if he could create a small manufacturing arm for his alchemical grenades.