Mr. Death in the Steam World

There were no carriages at night, but Moen had the legs of a dead man running at full speed.

As the sun rose, he finally arrived at the University of Kansas School of Pharmacy.

The exterior walls are made of gray stone, the portico is arched, and the columns are covered with ivy.

The morning light bathed the building's outline in a golden hue, making it appear solemn and dignified.

This is the last part of the original owner's memory that is clear.

The school bell rang soon after, and he walked into the classroom, finding a corner seat in the last row.

The classroom was filled with the drowsy atmosphere typical of early morning university classes.

The students gathered in twos and threes in the back rows, some catching up on sleep at their desks, others passing notes with their heads down. The podium was empty.

Caught up in the familiar atmosphere, even he, a dead man, couldn't help but yawn.

Although his body may not get tired, it doesn't mean his mind won't get weary.

"Moen? You actually came to class today?"

Turning around, I saw that the speaker was a round-faced boy named Phil, one of the few friends the original owner remembered.

"You're here at 8 AM again? You haven't been to class for the past few days, we all thought you..."

"What do you think I am?"

"I thought you dropped out of school," Phil shrugged.

"Your condition the other day was terrifying. You were like you'd lost your soul. You wouldn't respond when I talked to you. I thought you'd been admitted to a mental hospital."

Moen did not respond.

Judging from her condition a few days ago... sure enough, Clara wasn't the only one who noticed the changes in the original owner.

He was about to ask Phil about Professor Leonard when the classroom door was suddenly pushed open with a bang.

A gaunt old man walked in.

It's not Professor Leonard.

Moen frowned. According to the original owner's memories, this class should have been taught by Professor Leonard.

The old man walked up to the podium, threw a stack of documents on the table, and looked up.

"Students, today's class has been changed. Your dear Professor Leonard has taken a long leave, and I will be teaching the pharmacology lab classes from now on."

His tone carried an indescribable weariness.

"My name is Pip. You can call me Professor Pip, or you can call me Old Man, whatever you want."

A few awkward laughs rang out in the classroom.

"Without further ado, let's get to today's topic—dragon's breath extract."

As soon as Professor Pip finished speaking, several teaching assistants pushed in a cart and gave each of them a set of experimental equipment and a herb with a dark red surface.

Moen picked up the Dragon's Breath Grass and twirled it between his fingers.

Dragon's Breath Grass—the original owner had an impression of this name in his memories; it was known as one of the most difficult experimental materials in the School of Pharmacy.

Its outer skin is as hard as wood, but its interior is fragile and easily broken.

Professor Pip announced loudly:

"Those who succeed on their first try will pass my course this semester. As for those who can't..."

He didn't finish his sentence, but that only made it more frightening. Everyone knew that failing to do so would definitely lead to dire consequences.

A wailing sounded in the classroom.

"This is way too difficult!"

"The senior students said the pass rate for this experiment is only ten percent..."

Phil, who was standing next to him, was clearly not paying attention to the lesson. He picked up the mortar and threw the dragon's breath grass into it, then pounded it vigorously for a few moments.

"Bang bang bang—"

The dragon's breath grass didn't break, but the stone mortar was chipped.

On the other hand, the other students' attempts also all ended in failure.

Someone tapped it with a small hammer, and the dragon's breath grass split open instantly, splashing dark red sap all over their face.

Some people tried to cut it with a knife, but after cutting for a long time, they only left a white mark and returned empty-handed.

On the podium, Professor Pip sat in a chair, slowly sipping his tea from his thermos.

He didn't even look at the students' actions, as if he had already anticipated the outcome.

Moen looked down at the Dragon's Breath Grass in his hand and closed his eyes.

He focused his attention, activated "Mouse's Clever Hands," and his fingertips suddenly became exceptionally sensitive.

The surface of the Dragon's Breath Grass has an extremely fine line, like the annual rings of a tree, which wraps around the entire plant.

Following the lines, his fingers began to rub slowly and rhythmically.

Gradually, a drop of crystal-clear green sap seeped from the tip of the grass stem, followed by a second drop, and a third drop.

They flowed down the grass stems, gathered in Moen's palm, and swayed slightly, like a green gem.

Moen opened his eyes, aligned the grass stem with the mouth of the test tube, and gently squeezed it.

"Clatter—"

The juice fell to the bottom of the test tube, clear and transparent, without a trace of impurity, and shimmered with an emerald-like luster in the morning light.

A perfect finished product.

The classroom had fallen silent at some point.

"I...I'm not seeing things, am I?" someone whispered. "Is that Dragon's Breath Elixir?"

Phil gaped, nearly dropping the mortar and pestle on his foot.

"Moen, when did you become so powerful? You're betraying me!"

Professor Pip put down his thermos and walked step by step toward Moen. He picked up the test tube and remained silent for several seconds.

"Excuse me, what's your name?"

"Moon Marcus".

Professor Pip raised an eyebrow and repeated the name, his tone slightly odd.

"Mount Marcus... an unfamiliar name. I don't think I've seen you in my anatomy class this semester?"

Moen remained calm and composed. After all, it was the original owner who skipped the class, so he was theoretically just a substitute teacher.

"Professor, I took care of some personal matters during the last few classes."

"Hmph." Professor Pip put the test tube on the table, looked around, and his voice suddenly rose.

"Look closely, everyone! This is what Dragon's Breath Elixir should look like!"

"Clear, free of impurities, and with a uniform color. Look at what you've produced, is it even acceptable?"

He turned back to look at Moen.

"Since you've met my requirements, you don't need to come to my classes this semester. I mean what I say."

Discussions arose in the classroom.

Moen ignored the envious glances, but noted down one piece of information in his mind—Professor Pip said Leonard had "taken a long leave of absence."

You've taken a long leave? Taking leave means you'll be back someday.

But judging from Professor Leonard's appearance in my memory, he doesn't seem like he'll be coming back at all.

After class, Moen waited patiently until everyone had left before getting up and walking to the front of the classroom.

"Professor Pip, I have a question."

The professor was packing up his equipment, without even looking up.

"explain."

"Professor Leonard...will he come back?"

Professor Pip paused for a moment.

Why are you asking this?

"I admire Professor Leonard very much, and I am somewhat worried about his condition."

"Leonard... he's just on a long leave, that's all. He'll be back sooner or later, but not anytime soon."

Moen wanted to ask more, but Pip suddenly raised his head and stared at him sharply.

"Marcus, I don't care why you're asking about this. Stop. It's for your own good."

After saying that, Professor Pip walked straight to the classroom door, his hunched back looking somewhat desolate in the morning light.