Let go of that monster girl!

"I want me too."

The sugar does not evaporate during distillation, so the residue will eventually become a fairly pure, concentrated sugar syrup, which is quite delicious.

Molen ignored the rat girls who were busy licking the bottom of the basin, turned around and added a small pinch of crushed quicklime to the collected vodka, watching the white powder bubble in the clear liquid.

Then he looked at the mouse girl standing quietly beside him, dressed in a maid's outfit.

"Bring the sulfur over; I have a task for her."

Chapter 43 Mercuric Furosemate, Alcohol, and Vampires

The alchemical rats trembled with fear.

Lyme trembled.

Molen didn't tremble, but he silently lay down on the ground.

At the mountaintop experimental site, everyone lay prone in the makeshift, hidden trenches.

Sulfur, wearing the canned asbestos fireproof suit that Lyme had worn before, and a still-smoking pointed witch's hat on his head, carefully added firewood to the bottom of the crucible.

A small bottle of yellowish-green liquid is placed in a glass bottle, with the neck of the bottle tied with a thin string. It floats halfway in the hot water of the crucible and is heated in a water bath.

When will it be bombed this time?

The alchemist rat pressed down on its ears, its voice barely audible.

Don't jinx it!

Another alchemical rat next to her slapped her on the back of the head.

"You said the same thing last time and then it all exploded."

"She said it that time, okay?"

The air was thick with a deadly toxic mist. Even though Morren was lying upwind and wearing the plague doctor's bird-beak mask, his lungs felt like they were on fire.

Everyone held their breath and stared intently at the can wearing a witch's hat in front of them.

Slowly, very slowly, the sulfur removed the firewood from the bottom of the crucible, one piece at a time.

Then she reached out her hand, which was covered by an asbestos glove, to untie the hemp rope securing the vial.

Suddenly, the condensation on the bottle wall made the asbestos gloves slip.

The fingers loosened.

puff.

The bottle fell into the crucible.

"Lie down!" Morren pressed down on Lym's trembling head with one hand and shoved the face of the nearest alchemical rat into the mud with the other.

boom!!!

The crucible, shattered into three pieces, spun and flew in three completely different directions, one of which whistled past the edge of the hidden ditch.

The boiling water splattered on the ground, creating a large, irregular flower-like pattern.

The sulfur was thrown out by the blast wave, landing headfirst, and the rat was bent at a horrifying angle, lying there motionless.

It looks a bit dead.

"Alchemy, how terrifying!" The alchemical rat stared in disbelief as it lifted its head from the mud.

“Mercuric fulminate, it’s really scary.” Morren swallowed hard and reached out to catch the witch’s hat that was still tumbling in the air.

Mercuric fulminate.

This thing isn't in the Transmigrator's Handbook, but its preparation process is actually quite simple.

No complicated steps, precise proportions, or temperature control are required.

Dissolve mercury in concentrated nitric acid, add ethanol and heat together. After the solution cools, you will get a small amount of beautiful white crystals.

Extremely flammable.

Extremely explosive.

Extremely unstable.

Because the bond between metal ions and fulminate is extremely weak, even a gust of wind can trigger a devastating chain reaction.

In a work that Mo Lun quite liked in his previous life, "Chemistry Teacher Sells Ice Cream," the kind-hearted bald male protagonist threw a finger-sized crystal of mercuric fulminate directly onto the wall.

boom!

All the gangsters in the room were lying on the floor.

Making this thing yourself is almost suicidal; black powder could explode, while mercuric fulminate might not explode temporarily.

But its immense power and sensitive nature give it an extremely important use.

The primer of the shell.

"Let's rest for a bit and try again."

Moren stood up from the hidden ditch, brushed the mud off his body, walked towards the sulfur lying on the ground, and stretched out a hand to her.

Sulfur's body twitched, and she sat up with her head tilted to the side, bending her neck at an angle that would make the alchemical rats' jaws drop in horror.

She raised her hands expressionlessly and held her tilted head.

Click.

Okay, Morren is starting to understand why the Rune Workshop is full of vampire girls.

With this level of resilience, an ordinary rat girl would probably be dead by now.

Sulfur stood up, reached out and took off his heavy asbestos protective suit, revealing his body, which was only wearing a white vest underneath.

Her small face, covered in sweat, steamed in the air. Her short, white hair was wet and clung to her forehead and cheeks. Her red pupils stared coldly at Moren.

She stretched her muscles and bones.

The whole body was filled with the clicking and snapping sounds of things being reset.

"It's my fault. These protective gear are in the way. You don't need to wear them," Sulfur said calmly, shaking his hand.

"Alright, don't force yourself."

Morren nodded.

The method is correct, but the operation needs improvement.

It can be done.

"Your Excellency, we've heard there's something in the kingdom called something like Rune Powder? Shall we try it?"

A charlatan rat lay on the edge of the ditch, its round ears twitching as it asked.

“Impossible, that thing requires a runemaster, and we don’t have one.” Morren put the witch’s hat on Sulfur’s head.

"Uh, Miss Sulfur isn't..."

"She has been removed from the list."

Molen pointed to the black curse mark on Sulfur's neck.

If obtaining a vampire rat from a rune workshop allowed one to create runes at will, then rune artifacts would be everywhere by now.

Moren had only been reincarnated a short time and had just learned to speak when he immediately pestered his elders to find him a magic teacher.

With a wave of his hand, he unleashes an ice storm; with another, a meteor shower. How cool and stylish! Even a warrior wouldn't be a dog.

He even meticulously made rubbings of many runes and compared and studied them one by one, trying to find some patterns from the perspective of linguistics or integrated circuits.

All of them came to nothing.

His elders soon told him that magic was not a kind of knowledge that could be mastered, but a talent bestowed by the gods.

If one is not born a witch or a certain type of monster girl, one will absolutely be unable to master any magic.

It's all predetermined from birth.

Runes, like golems and other magical creations, are a derivative of witches.

Otherwise, if Morren pressed the rune sword onto both sides of the paper, would that paper also be able to cut through iron like mud?

However, after becoming a warrior who wouldn't even be a dog, Morren felt quite good.

What's with all this fancy stuff? Take this sword!

Wang!

The runic ring around Sulfur's neck ensures that she possesses witch powers only within the Rune Workshop, guaranteeing that the kingdom's craftsmanship will not be leaked.

"Right now I'm just a flightless bat, so can we continue the experiment?"

Sulfur bit his lip and said coldly.

"It's not that bad." Morren reached out and ruffled the head of the stubborn rat girl.

Runemaster is both a curse and a form of enslavement, but also the only identity she can be proud of.

Molen could understand her hatred for this power, and even more so, her hatred for losing it.

"There will be a way, there will always be a way. For example, haven't we almost found a way to prevent mercury fulminate from exploding?"

Sulfur turned her face away, sniffed softly, and wouldn't let Morren look into her eyes.

"The Baron is so gentle." The alchemical rats also poked their heads out of the ditch to cheer on Sulfur.

"Sister Sulfur, let's try again, this time it will work!"

"Yes, yes, keep it up!"

Sulfur said nothing and picked up the flask containing nitric acid again.

Two meal times later.

boom!

"Squeak! Alchemy, how terrifying!"

Chapter 44 Jimmy

"The Baron is so mean. The cat even brought him a gift, and he's bullying the cat like this."

Jimmy lay on the back of the tall white unicorn, looking as unhappy as a cat (`へ').

The baron's license was pressed beneath her face, sinking into the unicorn's soft white fur.

That despicable Baron Morren! He promised to earn gold coins with the cat, but he just took the copper ingots himself.

He also asked the snake girl to tell him to go to Wolf Castle and wait.

Humph.

She was going to Wolfsburg anyway, not because he told her to.

Inside the small but exceptionally sturdy cargo box on the unicorn's back, a full 1521 gold coins were meticulously packed, equivalent to half a year's income for an earl.

All of these were payments for goods to the Baron, along with gifts that were carefully sealed in boxes and originally intended for him.

This is far more wealth than that of ordinary caravans; if it were to become known by accident, it would definitely attract many desperate criminals.

"If the Baron doesn't come soon, the cat will keep the gift for him."

Although Jimmy was lying there lazily, his amber vertical pupils were half-open, scanning the dark fields of the lightless area.

Wolfsburg is not far from the New Market, about a five-day journey each way.

Because those wolf girls and dog girls were very greedy, although they were the biggest sellers of dried mushrooms, they hardly ate any of those things.

Caravans trading gourmet food and many other trinkets traveled back and forth between Wolfsburg and the New Market.

Thanks to the wolf cubs' amazing fighting prowess, the monsters and bandits along the way were quickly wiped out, making this trade route a rare and relatively safe path.

Jimmy used to do business with wolves a long time ago, but she has always hated them the most.

It's perfectly natural for cats to dislike dogs!

"Boss, we should be at Wolfsburg in about half a day. Should we let the guys rest for a bit?"