Marseille Harbor Labyrinth Mystery

The Eel’s Back

The sound wasn't merely noise; it was the groan of a sick alchemy. The Anti-Transmutation Elixir (ATE) that Neptune injected into *Triton's* hull worked fast, reducing the ship's already fragile coral defenses into a hissing lime slurry. Jean, still in the water, felt the energy of his derelict vessel dampen, as if swallowed by endless mud.

He swam as fast as he could, his muscles screaming for rest. The mass transmutation he performed at Dock D had drained him to his limit.

“Damn it,” Jean hissed, kicking the murky water. He had to reach the *Triton* before it sank, or worse, before the ATE breached his lab and neutralized the stolen minerals—his only purification catalyst.

As he reached the shallows, where the water was only waist-deep, he sensed a subtle movement. Not the current, but deliberate motion. Jean stopped, gathering the remnants of his awareness.

“A tenacious swimmer,” the voice drifted from the darkness beneath one of the moored tugboats. The voice was slick, like water running over stone.

“Who’s there?” Jean asked, wary. He needed to conserve every word and every movement.

“That name is reserved for my friends, Valéry,” the figure said, stepping out of the shadows. The man was thin, tall, and appeared soaked through, even though he wore a leather jacket. His eyes were small, sharp, and calculating. This was The Eel, the master of the fresh fish supply chain and shallow-water smuggling operations in Marseille.

“I hear you’ve been causing a mess,” The Eel continued, offering a thin smile. “Nico and Sal are fighting like mad dogs, and Le Requin is gone. You think you can take all this, Valéry?”

Jean only stared. “You’re wasting your time, Eel. I’m busy.”

“You’re busy destroying yourself, *mon ami*,” The Eel stepped forward, his long legs moving easily in the mud. “Of course, Nico said you did it. But Nico is always an idiot. I saw what you did at Dock D. Black crystals, sulfur gas. That wasn’t Nico or Sal’s work. That was magic.”

“Then why are you here?” Jean challenged.

“I’m here to negotiate,” The Eel replied, his hands hidden in his jacket pockets. “Neptune is sending subs here. They’re looking for the person who caused the ruckus. You made Le Requin vanish, you caused chaos. They’re coming for you. I can help you hide. In exchange, I take 90% of Le Requin’s territory, and you… you become my alchemist.”

Jean gave a small, dry, bitter laugh. “You want me to be your poisoning dog? You don’t understand what’s happening here, Eel.”

“I understand power. And your power is dying right there,” The Eel pointed toward the *Triton*, which was now hissing from the ATE. “Your ship is being digested by anti-transmutation alchemy. You can’t touch that water, can you?”

The Eel’s observation was correct. Jean could not use the ATE-contaminated water. It was a dead zone.

“I don’t need that water,” Jean countered, steadying his breathing. “I need *this* water.”

Jean pointed toward the filthy shallows at their feet. Water filled with sludge and muddy sediment.

The Eel frowned. “That’s garbage. You can’t use garbage.”

“You’re wrong,” Jean said. “The Level 2 Elixir I just brewed gives me the power to see potential in filth. Potential you always tread upon.”

Jean closed his eyes, channeling the remaining Level 2 Elixir energy into his immediate surroundings: the mud, the water, and the biological sediment around The Eel’s feet.

“I’ll give you a small demonstration, Eel,” Jean said, his voice now returning to a cold, authoritative tone.

The Eel felt a strange chill. He looked down at the murky water.

“What are you doing?” The Eel asked, alarmed.

“I am transmuting the filth around you into pure poison,” Jean explained. “Not poison that kills, but poison that paralyzes.”

Instantly, the mud surrounding The Eel began to hiss violently. Small, deep purple bubbles rose to the surface. A metallic, fishy stench stung their nostrils.

The Eel gave a quiet shriek. “What is that smell?!”

“This is the filth you boast about, Eel,” Jean said. “I’m just focusing it. That’s concentrated bile acid. It will burn your skin in five seconds.”

The Eel leaped backward with incredible speed, demonstrating why he was nicknamed ‘The Eel.’ He avoided the purple bubbling zone.

“You’re fast,” Jean praised, without emotion. “But you can’t run from the water.”

Jean opened his eyes. He had no Elixir left, but he still possessed the control activated by the stolen minerals. He focused energy on the column of water directly behind The Eel, where it was slightly deeper.

Manipulation. Small wave. Focused pressure.

The water behind The Eel suddenly surged, not as an ocean wave, but as a solid wall of water moving forward with bullet speed.

CRASH!

The water wall struck The Eel’s back with the force of a sledgehammer. The Eel was thrown forward, landing on the filthy wooden pier, coughing violently. His leather jacket was torn across the back.

“Damn you, Valéry!” The Eel spat out water and blood. “You use water like that? That’s insane magic!”

Jean stepped out of the water, mud dripping from his clothes. He stood at the edge of the pier, looking down at the sprawled Eel.

“I’m not a Crime King, Eel,” Jean said. “I am the Alchemist of the Black Sea. I am the protector of these waters. And you, you are a disease upon its surface.”

The Eel stared up at him, absolute terror now replacing his arrogance. He saw the pillars of black crystal in the distance, he smelled the residue of sulfur in the air, and now he felt the power of the water that had nearly killed him.

“You… you’re worse than Neptune!” The Eel tried to rise, but his back was throbbing.

“Perhaps,” Jean replied coolly. “But Neptune wants to exploit the Nexus. I want to protect it. You will serve me, or you will become a second salt monument, just like Le Requin.”

The Eel shook his head. “I won’t be your dog. I’m leaving. I’ll tell everyone! I’ll tell them you’re a monster who turns water into poison and wood into stone!”

“Go,” Jean ordered. “Spread the word. I want them to know who rules Marseille now.”

The Eel didn't wait twice. He crawled away, then bolted, disappearing among the stacks of cargo, carrying with him the terrifying tale of the new Valéry.

Jean sighed, total exhaustion hitting him like a second wave. He turned back to the *Triton*.

The vessel was hissing louder. The ATE had breached the outer hull.

“I don’t have time,” Jean muttered, rushing back onto the ship.

He leaped onto the deck, running to his lab. The stench of ATE was already present—a heavy, oily smell lethal to alchemy. Jean saw the coral floor starting to soften, and in the middle of it, his Level 2 Elixir bottles were vibrating precariously.

“No! Don’t touch my Elixirs!” Jean panicked.

He grabbed the suitcase containing the stolen ancient minerals. He had to use the minerals’ pure energy to locally purify the ATE.

Jean opened the case; a pure blue light illuminated the lab. He snatched a small piece of mineral and jammed it into the worst point of the ATE ingress.

Zsss!

The pure mineral and the Anti-Transmutation Elixir met. It was a violent reaction. Purification energy and repellent energy collided, causing a massive shudder.

Jean screamed. He felt his energy forcibly drained, as if his soul were being tugged by the two opposing forces.

“Stabilize! I must stabilize!” Jean yelled.

He forced his will, channeling all his memories, all his pain, into the mineral. The mineral shone brighter, slowly overcoming the ATE.

The floor stopped melting.

Jean fell to his knees, gasping for breath. He had succeeded. The *Triton* was safe.

However, as he struggled to stand, he noticed a small piece of the alchemical coral he had just stabilized. It was no longer solid black or gray; it now emitted a faint golden shimmer.

The Level 2 Elixir he used, mixed with the ancient minerals, had accidentally performed an inorganic transmutation on the ship’s material.

“Gold?” Jean murmured, touching the glossy coral.

Suddenly, he heard the sound of enormous engines in the distance. Not a submarine. This was a massive cargo ship, moving at full speed toward the port of Marseille.

Jean looked out the porthole. The ship wasn't carrying containers. It was enveloped in a faint green magical aura.

On its hull, he could see a black flag bearing a silver trident: The Neptune Cartel.

They were no longer sending stealth submarines. They were coming with full force, led by a colossal vessel.

The ship didn’t slow down. It rammed the main pier that Jean had just saved from the internal gang war.

CRASH!

The collision shook the entire Vieux-Port. Jean looked at the ruined pier, then at the Cartel ship.

The ship didn't sink. It began venting thick, dark green gas from its hull. The gas spread rapidly, covering the entire shoreline.

Jean smelled it. It wasn't sulfur. It was Mass Transmutation Elixir Gas. They didn't just want to damage things; they wanted to change the entire geography of Marseille.

Jean had to act. He saw the remaining Level 2 Elixirs. “I need to make an Antidote Elixir,” he hissed.

He grabbed an empty bottle, his eyes focused on the spreading green gas. He needed to find a quick source of raw materials—

Suddenly, he felt a cold touch on his neck. A sharp knife, pressed against his carotid artery.

“Welcome back, Valéry,” the voice whispered from behind him. A familiar voice.

“Anton,” Jean hissed, startled.

“You thought you could rule Marseille alone?” Anton pressed the knife deeper. “I told you, I would work for someone who knew how to use this power.”

Jean felt the Level 2 Elixir in his pocket. He had to turn, he had to use—

“Don’t move,” Anton ordered. “I came to take the rest of your Elixirs, and you’ll be a gift to the Neptune Cartel. They’ll be thrilled to see this arrogant Alchemist of the Black Sea transmuted into—

—dust.”