Jean didn't use the salt shield; it was too slow. He used the residue of Salty Mist Potion remaining in his body to accelerate his perception, grinding time into fine powder.The bullet Le Requin fired sliced through the air, seeming to move in syrup. Jean didn't have time to retrieve a new Potion bottle. He had to use what was in his hand: a transmuted silver screwdriver.He swung the screwdriver upward, hitting the bullet dead center.*Clang!*The screwdriver didn't stop the bullet, but deflected it a fraction of a degree. The bullet missed Jean's ear and slammed into the crystal chandelier above Le Requin's head.The chandelier shattered, and a rain of crystal shards fell.Le Requin, physically strong but slow to react, was momentarily stunned. Jean seized this split-second advantage."You won't shoot me again," Jean said, his voice as cold as the ice he had just broken.Le Requin snarled. "Damn it! You're the dead Valéry! How are you that fast?""I told you, I'm not the Valéry you

The coral began to melt, and Jean quickly pulled his hand back from the hovering iron transmutation needle. The Level 2 Potion energy had overreacted, transforming the protective coral barrier he had constructed into a sizzling chalk slurry.Jean retracted the dark silver Potion, sealing the bottle with an alchemical stopper lined with an anti-corrosive membrane. He submerged the Potion into a bucket of pure brine in the corner of the lab.“Too strong,” he hissed, stabilizing the melting coral with an injection of concentrated saltwater. The ship groaned but held steady. “Non-organic transmutation requires insane precision.”He stared at the iron needle still suspended in the air, a perfect manifestation of controlled chaos. “I could turn steel into dust. I could bring an entire fleet to a standstill.”But he couldn't use this Potion in a direct confrontation in the middle of the harbor. The force of its energy release would destroy the Triton and himself. He had to use it secretly, t

The knife at Jean's throat didn't tremble. Anton's hand, like his voice, was cold and steady. “Neptune will grant you a quick transmutation. Far better than the fate of Le Requin, displayed as a trophy.”Jean couldn't move, but his brain, accelerated by the remnants of the Salt Mist Potion, spun wildly. Total exhaustion crept into every muscle, but one source of strength remained: the Level 2 Transmutation Potion, a dark silver liquid pulsing in his pocket. Using it directly would kill them both. But he didn't need to use it directly.“You’re wrong, Anton,” Jean hissed, his voice hoarse. “You think Neptune is going to give you a position? You’re just an informant. A small dog they throw a bone to occasionally.”“Shut your mouth,” Anton countered, pressing the knife deeper until a drop of blood trickled out. “I've seen their power. They have submarines, alchemical torpedoes, and a network you can’t even imagine. You’re just a rat on a derelict ship.”“And you’re a rat following another

The sound didn't come from outside. It was a cracking noise from within him, like ice fracturing under pressure. Jean stared at his pale hand; beneath his nearly transparent skin, a fine crystalline sheen of salt was beginning to form along his veins. The pain wasn't like a wound; it was more like a cold, structured process of decay."See it?" Anton whispered, his voice trembling with horror and a hint of triumph. "That's the price, Valéry. You thought you'd get the power of a god for free? Big mistake."Jean couldn't tear his eyes away from his own hand. Every heartbeat now felt like a tiny hammer driving shards of salt deeper into his cells. "What price?" he hissed, holding back a fresh wave of pain."The Curse of Organic Salt Transmutation," Anton replied, crawling slightly away. "In Atlantis, only one Alchemist was crazy enough to try it. He thought he could become a god, controlling life itself. And he succeeded. For a moment.""So what happened to him?" Jean asked, his eyes fina

The noise wasn't merely breaking wood. It was the sound of the spine of their arrogance shattering. The giant tentacle slammed into the edge of the pier, sending a shockwave that hurled Old Man Marco, Nico, and Sal backward. Cold, salty seawater sprayed into the air, raining down on them like a slap from an angry god. Concrete cracked, wooden planks splintered into fragments, and the previously tense silence was broken by the sound of devastation.For several seconds that felt like an eternity, no one moved. They could only stare, mouths agape, at the massive limb from the depths that had answered Marco's arrogant challenge. Then, as quickly as it had appeared, the tentacle retracted back into the dark whirlpool, vanishing without a trace, leaving behind only a ruined dock and three crime bosses whose egos had been thoroughly crushed."Was that… was that real…?" Nico whispered, his voice cracking. His face, usually filled with rage, was now deathly pale, his eyes fixed on the gaping h