Marseille Harbor Labyrinth Mystery

Jean Looked Down

Jean did not flinch. He knew the entity was a representation of excessive purity, a manifestation of the very pollution he was cleansing. To defeat it, he could not use pure purification; instead, he needed controlled chaos.

“You are the residue that is too pure?” Jean hissed, his voice filled with cold fury. “Then taste what you hate.”

The entity, now resembling moving salt crystal and algae, lunged. The alchemical coral it held was aimed directly at Jean’s heart, an attack designed to tear through his alchemical shield and purify him to death.

Jean raised the remaining vial of Salt Fog Elixir in his hand. The potion contained mercury, sulfur, and oil—substances most despised by its new purity.

He didn't spray it. He hurled the entire bottle at the entity's chest.

The glass bottle shattered upon impact with the brittle crystal shell. The smoky gray liquid burst forth, coating the entity’s face with foul matter.

The entity shrieked. It wasn’t a scream of sound, but a chemical cry. Its body hissed, and the salt crystals on its skin began to dissolve rapidly, mixing with the mercury.

“Pollution!” the entity roared, its voice now returning to a muddy, weak rasp. “You used filth!”

“I master filth,” Jean countered, stepping forward.

The entity could not withstand the sudden, concentrated contamination. It fell to the deck, transforming into a pool of smoking gray liquid, which was quickly absorbed by the layer of alchemical coral on the ship's hull.

Silence returned to the Triton. Jean stood there, gasping. It had been a strange fight—not against the physical, but against the dark side of his own power.

He looked at Anton’s tablet. 2:05 AM. It was time.

Jean grabbed another Salt Fog Elixir (which he kept in his belt) and his silver transmutation screwdriver. He leaped off the boat, leaving the salt sculptures and the still-confused truck driver behind him.

The two-kilometer journey back to the center of Vieux-Port felt fast. The alchemical energy around him grew increasingly chaotic. In the distance, above the Le Requin ice warehouse area, Jean could see a thin mist—not natural fog, but vapor emitted by the underground Neptune mining machine.

Jean arrived at the Ice Warehouse. The building looked like an ordinary concrete and steel fortress, but he knew it housed an industrial-scale cooling system that served as a cover for an ancient waterway.

There were only two guards at the main gate. They looked bored, smoking cigarettes in silence.

Jean moved to the back of the building, toward a hidden ventilation area. The area was protected by thick iron bars.

The Salt Fog Elixir was a tricky solution. If he sprayed it directly into the air, the Fog would dissipate too quickly and be ineffective. He needed to introduce it into the main ventilation system.

Jean pulled out the silver screwdriver. He touched the iron bars, channeling a very gentle pulse of alchemical energy.

“Transmutation. Rapid corrosion.”

The iron hissed, turning into rust powder in less than five seconds. Jean swept the powder away, creating a small hole.

He placed the bottle of Salt Fog Elixir into the opening, right in front of the spinning ventilation fan. He twisted the cap, and the smoky gray vapor was immediately sucked inside.

The potion would work fast. It would scramble temperature sensors, making the entire ice warehouse believe they were experiencing a massive system failure, and more importantly, the mercury-salt vapor would affect the perception of the guards.

Jean moved back to the main door, waiting.

It didn't take long. Within two minutes, the ice warehouse alarm began to sound—not a burglar alarm, but a cooling system alert.

The guards at the door exchanged panicked glances.

“What’s wrong? Why is the temperature dropping so drastically?” one asked, throwing away his cigarette.

“Damn it, something’s wrong with the Freon. I heard the boss is inside. We have to report this!”

As they panicked, Jean touched his hand. He had already prepared Pain-Binder Elixir in his palm, a clear liquid extracted from toxic algae.

As the two guards ran toward the door, Jean stepped forward and tapped both of their shoulders.

“Sorry, guys. You need a break,” Jean whispered.

The two guards flinched, attempting to turn around, but the Elixir worked instantly. They didn't pass out, but their entire nervous system sent signals of immense relaxation. They fell to the floor, snoring soundly beside the steel door.

Jean opened the now-unlocked door. Inside, the Salt Fog smoke had already begun to fill the corridors.

The ice warehouse was a maze of steel boxes. The sound of fans and cooling machines dominated the room.

Jean walked toward the center, where he knew the Nexus was—directly beneath the thickest layer of ice flooring.

He saw shadows moving between the steel racks. Internal guards. They all held weapons, but their movements were slow and clumsy. The Salt Fog was already affecting them.

“The numbers on my screen are all crazy,” one guard muttered, rubbing his eyes. “Damn it, I can’t focus.”

Jean ignored them. He was looking for the cargo lift door that would take him to the lower level.

As he turned a corner in the hallway, he came face-to-face with someone.

The man was an old logistics foreman whom Jean knew from his past as Jean Valéry, the failed criminal. The man was named Marco, and he had worked for different gangs before joining Le Requin. Marco was meticulous, and he didn't appear affected by the Salt Fog.

Marco, wearing a thick jacket and a protective helmet, stared at Jean. His eyes narrowed slowly, not because of the fog, but because of a slow, creeping recognition.

“Jean?” Marco whispered, his voice disbelieving, yet suspicious.

Jean froze. He couldn't use a Potion here. Marco was too close.

“You have the wrong person, buddy,” Jean said, trying to alter his voice.

“Don’t lie to me, Jean Valéry,” Marco said, stepping forward. He lowered his helmet. “I know your scent. The smell of a loser who could never pay his debts on the docks. But… why do you look so… white?”

Marco pointed to Jean's skin, which was now pale, almost transparent, a side effect of extreme alchemical purification.

“I heard you died. Overdose. Three months ago.” Marco sniffed the air around Jean. “And why do you smell like… salt?”

“I’ve cleaned myself up,” Jean replied, trying to maintain composure. “I’m working for new people. I’m just here to pick up cargo, that’s all.”

Marco gave a cynical laugh. “You? Pick up cargo? Rare mineral cargo beneath the ice floor? You never could handle a proper job, Valéry. You couldn’t tell the difference between iron and gold back then. Now you want to take this?”

Marco leaned in, his eyes drilling into Jean's. “You’re not the Jean I knew. The Jean I knew didn't have eyes this cold, like seawater. Who are you, really?”

Jean knew he didn't have much time. The Neptune machine beneath the ice floor could breach at any moment.

“I’ve changed, Marco. Just like you. Now, move aside,” Jean commanded.

“Changed?” Marco scoffed. “You didn't change. You were replaced. You think I don't know the rumors about the Black Alchemist? The one who cleans dirty water and leaves salt crystals everywhere? You're the one who caused all this chaos, aren’t you?”

Marco suddenly pulled a folding knife from his pocket. “I don't care if you're magic or a demon. You’re Jean, and you're destroying my business. Le Requin will pay dearly to know who you really are.”

Marco lunged, the knife aimed at Jean's ribs.

Jean moved quickly, but without violence. He caught Marco’s wrist, not with physical strength, but with a speed the old Jean Valéry never possessed.

“Don’t be foolish, Marco,” Jean hissed.

Jean touched Marco's pulse, channeling a tiny amount of alchemical energy, just enough to rapidly accelerate Marco's metabolism, causing every muscle in his body to momentarily spasm.

Marco cried out, not from pain, but because his body suddenly felt like it was on fire. The knife dropped to the floor.

“What did you do?!” Marco stumbled, trying to stand upright.

“I just told your body that you’re too tired,” Jean said. “Go to sleep, Marco. And forget what you saw.”

Marco collapsed to the floor, his eyes still open, but his vision beginning to blur.

Jean immediately picked up the folding knife, twirled it in his hand, and continued his journey to the lower-level cargo area.

He found the steel door leading to the emergency stairs. There, the Salt Fog Elixir had worked perfectly. All the lights were out, and the air was frigid.

Jean descended the stairs, heading toward the main cooling storage where the rare minerals were kept.

He arrived in a vast cold storage room. In the center of the room, there was a large stack of cargo crates, covered in a thick layer of ice.

Jean could feel a strong energy pulse inside one of the crates. The rare mineral.

As he stepped forward, he felt a vibration much stronger than before. The tremor was not from the surface, but from underground.

Neptune. Their mining machine had reached the outermost layer of the Nexus.

Jean had to move faster. He touched the ice crate, channeling fast, hot alchemical energy, forcing the surrounding ice to instantly evaporate.

The ice vanished, revealing a steel briefcase that emitted a faint blue glow. The case was chained to the floor.

Jean grabbed it. It was heavy, and its aura felt ancient.

Suddenly, the vibrations beneath him changed. No longer the sound of machinery, but a terrible cracking noise.

Krrrrraaaak!

The ice floor he was standing on, right in the center of the room, began to crack.

Jean looked down. Seawater, foul and dark, began to spurt from the opening gap.

And along with the water, a large, black, slimy object with a single glowing eye emerged from the hole. It was one of Neptune’s mining drones that had just breached the ice warehouse floor.

The drone saw Jean, and its rusty muzzle was immediately aimed at the briefcase he held.

BANG!

The drone fired a blast of transmuted acid water directly at Jean. Jean raised the briefcase as a shield, but he knew the acid would dissolve the steel.

Jean had only a split second to react. He had to escape with this cargo before the ice warehouse collapsed and Neptune flooded the Nexus.

He ran toward the emergency stairs while the drone fired alchemical acid.