Good Luck Witcher

Four Transcendents stood at the bar in the dimly lit tavern.

The look is guarded, the body taut, and the touch is on.

The owner of the tavern, who was completely unaware of the frozen atmosphere, suddenly came over to interrupt the invisible confrontation and smilingly served drinks.

"This is the most famous craft malt liquor in our area!" The alchemist looked down, his arm propped up on the bar suddenly flung out, threw out an object and a sentence, and dashed off.

"I never drink watered-down bad wine!"

A greenish potion bottle and spilled ale flew in a jumbled trajectory toward the instantly storming tavern keeper between that pause where time was slowed down frame by frame.

Subconsciously, he copied the tray at hand and tried to knock the blow out of the unknown thing.

Just at the moment when the bottom of the plate was about to come into contact with the glass bottle, a palm quickly reached out from the side, cutting through the roiling slurry of wine and catching the flopping green bottle, closing its five fingers and closing them firmly in the palm of his hand.

The owner, who had been splashed with wine, turned his head to look again.

The young tenant with slightly closed eyes across the side picked up his wine glass and took a light sip.

"You know these bill-dodging assholes?"

Eleazar slowly put down his glass, "Didn't you hear the old man in the garden say that I was a police officer?"

With that, he fished out five dollars and slapped it on the bar, got up, and left.

The owner who was undercharged by a dollar dared to speak out.

After the four left, the tavern returned to its usual cleanliness, with only a few tables of patrons and the sounds of muffled conversation and hiccups coming from them.

"Boss, two more drinks!"

...

Escaping with the alchemist from the orchard that housed the transcendentals, the two men next to him were a bit puzzled.

"Why are we running away?"

The alchemist cursed at once, "I told you guys to go out and socialize more during the week not to listen."

"That man looked at us with impunity, but when faced with ordinary people he closed his eyes, that kind of disciplined behavior, he's an official..."

As he spoke, he stopped abruptly.

The two beside him followed the line of sight, and then saw, on the hillside in front of them, a young man with closed eyes turn around.

"Let a way through, will you?"

The Herbalist Sequence, who had little ability to fight, uttered a plea for mercy.

"We just used a little bit of banned medicine to treat people, we didn't make any big mistakes!"

The youth with his eyes closed took a step toward them.

"Damn it, don't bully people too much!"

The three of them quickly pulled out their gas masks and put them on before throwing a few more gas bottles to the ground, allowing the rising dark green cloud of poison to quickly envelop their figures.

At the same time, there was a slight vibration underfoot, and a few splashes of something dark green were released in the poisonous cloud, churning up the dirt and spreading it around.

The surrounding land was sticky on the spot, and this nearby area directly turned into a swamp, rising with a highly poisonous aura.

This was followed by countless more bottles being thrown.

Frost Combos, Ignition Combos, Petrification Combos, and Magnetic Explosion Combos, along with the cannibal vines and hazy, poisonous mist that the swamp had crazily spawned, kept up the assault.

The various layers of transcendent abilities worked together to make them many times stronger than the average high-ranking dark creature.

Just all of this did not stop that youth, those tightly closed dark red eyes slowly opened at some point, and with it, a crimson red spread up from the other's chest.

"What is it?"

The three people who kept wandering in the poisonous clouds had hesitant faces.

The Divination Crystal that the High Rank had bought for warning purposes suddenly shattered, and the Herbalist who sensed something bad hurriedly said, "Actually, we were just joking around..."

A dragon's roar that seemed like it came from the distant past--

At the Osiris family mansion, the sleeping Luna was suddenly awakened, her eyes with tears in the corners turned her head to look out the window, and she saw the sky flashing crimson in the distance.

Outside of the suburb, the temporarily formed swamp raised a sky of sparks, the poisonous gas had been completely ignited, even the soft soil under their feet had been roasted dry, and in the heat that instantly climbed to unbearable high temperatures, the three Transcendents and the ground full of man-eating vines instantly turned into ashes and scattered.

Eleazar slowly walks up and opens each of the three crates to check them out.

One was full of various potion compounds, one was filled with powdered herbs, and the last was filled with fresh human organs, with a still slowly beating heart in the center.

After a moment's contemplation, he carried the three boxes back to Bacchus, went back into the phone booth, put in a coin, and picked up the phone.

Halfway out, Witcher walks out with a grumbling face.

"No way, it's so late and I have to go into town to deliver something..."

Still, he quickly rushed to the city's Transcendental Hospital.

"My child's heart was stolen..."

On the edge of the white hallway, the mother, who had suffered a major mental shock, would only murmur this to the officer beside her.

Eleazar gave her a look and handed the suitcase to one of the ushering nuns.

"Uh!"

The nun who opened the box covered her mouth and let out a disgusted feeling that she tried to suppress.

"I'll do it!"

A familiar voice came from a masked Robert, who reached out with smooth hands to pick up the box of bloodied organs.

Eleazar turned his head to look at the mousy-faced herbalist, "You still know internal medicine?"

"Slightly..."

The door to the emergency room then closed, and all that could be perceived was that a faint life force inside was as fragile as a candle flame.

Walking out of the hospital, Eleazar walks down the street with the streetlights dimly lit, taking out his silver flask and drinking slowly and shallowly as he senses the anomalies around him.

Having harvested two crates of material Witcher is not yet satisfied, and wonders if an unsuspecting Transcendent will crash through.

But the last to come was an acolyte.

It was a shadow that ignored the complex terrain of the city's alleys and traveled quickly.

Following Witcher, no form could be seen, only a low, questioning voice came.

"All dead is it?"

"Well, into the nutrients of the earth."

With it came the sound of a pen tip scratching across the page.

The acolyte seemed to be taking notes on something with her book. "It's best if you don't run around lately, those three people's abilities aren't suitable to explode in a populated area, that's why they were driven to your side, cheap."

Eleazar asked casually, "Are there many of these?"

"Very much so!"

"People who take magic potions because of various unforeseen circumstances, people who do whatever it takes to continue to improve, people who are on the verge of mutating without the material to support them..."

The night watchman whispered, "So do you see now why we're cracking down on those illegal transcendents?"

"Not everyone has your good fortune."

After parting ways with the acolyte, Witcher walked slowly down the empty, deserted street, carrying the silver jug.

"Lucky me?"