Iris walked alongside Snow, whose appearance had undergone a striking transformation. Clad in a black coat, shirt, and pants tucked into combat boots, he exuded a cold and formidable aura. A dark mask concealed his face, and a single earring gleamed in one ear. A sleek bracelet wrapped around his wrist, and his neatly styled dark hair only added to his intimidating presence.
He looked dangerous at a glance—undeniably so. Yet beside him stood none other than Iris, the renowned S-Rank Hunter who had once been part of a famous duo with Ruciel. She had risen to S-Rank two years ago, and now walked calmly next to the man everyone at Hephaestus had been seeking: the elusive figure known only by whispers in the black market.
The masked man who had sold a legendary potion and then vanished without a trace.
Now, here he was.
In the room, a beautiful red-haired woman sat gracefully, her arms adorned with bangles and her sleeveless shirt revealing a distinct tattoo along her right arm. She wore elegant jewelry—a shining earring and a matching necklace. Her coat had already been set aside, and she bowed slightly as she welcomed the guest.
At her side stood a younger woman who shared the same hair color. Her resemblance to the older woman made it clear—she was Ruciel, Uriel Hephaestus's niece. As she looked at Snow, something about him felt... familiar.
Uriel Hephaestus, matriarch of the Hephaestus family, raised a hand and motioned for all unrelated staff to leave the room. Only she, Ruciel, Iris, and the masked man remained. Between them sat a sealed case—inside it, the vial that once belonged to Snow.
"It is an honor to finally meet you... 'The Mask,'" Uriel said with a calm, measured tone.
"The Mask?" Snow replied, his voice muffled behind his mask. "Is that the alias the black market has assigned me?"
"Indeed," Uriel confirmed, smiling faintly. "Though I find it even more fascinating to have confirmed your second identity—Lord Raven."
"You amuse me, Uriel Hephaestus," he replied, pulling out a chair and sitting with effortless confidence.
"So," he continued, his voice cool and even, "did you go through all this trouble just to meet me?"
"You could say that. Everything was arranged to have this conversation," Uriel said, settling into her seat across from him.
"But before that, may I ask... how did you come across such a rare potion?" she asked, her eyes flickering toward the vial in the case.
"I made it," he said simply.
Uriel blinked, stunned into silence.
"You doubt me?" he asked, leaning back. "I assumed you would have already had it appraised during the formalities for auction."
"We've held off on appraisal," she admitted. "For... certain reasons. Our appraiser should be arriving soon."
"I see," he replied coolly.
"Then if you truly created this potion," she continued, "why does it bear the same name as my niece?"
"It was on a whim," he said.
"But I'm sure," he added, "you'll find it interesting once you understand what it contains."
"Then enlighten me," she said, leaning forward.
"I'd love to," Snow said, "but I'm only here to retrieve what is mine."
"Unfortunately," Uriel said with a thin smile, "I need this potion."
"Is that so," Snow murmured.
Just then, the door creaked open, and a middle-aged man entered, carrying a sleek briefcase. He bowed and stepped forward.
"Ah, my appraiser has arrived," Uriel announced.
"This is Brian Greenwood," she added. "A renowned appraiser across the globe."
"Nice to meet you," Brian greeted.
Snow gave a subtle gesture in return.
"If it's all right with you, shall we proceed with the appraisal now?" Uriel asked.
Snow said nothing, but his silent nod was all the approval they needed.
Brian approached the sealed case and opened it. The moment his eyes landed on the potion, he froze, clearly taken aback. Recovering, he opened his briefcase, pulled out a pair of gloves, and slipped them on with care. Gently, he lifted the potion and activated his appraisal skill.
The room fell into silence.
As soon as his ability took effect, Brian's eyes widened. His mouth parted slightly in disbelief.
"Madam Hephaestus," he said breathlessly. "May I ask... where did you acquire this potion?"
She nodded toward Snow. "The man before you claims to be its creator."
Brian turned to Snow with a stunned look.
"I see," he muttered. "Then it makes sense."
"This potion," he continued slowly, "is of legendary grade."
Uriel's eyes snapped wide. "What?"
"It's described as a custom elixir, made with a specific individual in mind," Brian said. "Upon ingestion, it can cure all ailments and lift even the most persistent of curses."
Uriel's breath caught in her throat.
"That's not all," Brian went on. "If taken by a Hunter, it will permanently boost all stats by up to five points—and grant a staggering 250 experience points."
He lowered the vial slightly, then looked Uriel directly in the eye.
"If word of this potion spreads, it could start a war."
Uriel inhaled sharply. "Does it say who created it?"
Brian hesitated. "Unfortunately, I cannot identify the maker. But... there are strong restrictions embedded in the potion's creation."
"What kind of restrictions?" she asked.
"This elixir can only be used with the creator's permission," he explained. "Without it, it's completely inert."
Uriel sat back, stunned once more, as silence settled over the room like a curtain. The man before her wasn't just a rumor or a name in the black market.
"And..." Brian hesitated, unsure if it was wise to continue.
Uriel noticed his pause. "And?" she prompted.
"This potion carries the same magical signature as the high-quality A-Rank potions that have been circulating in the market recently," Brian said, his voice grave.
Uriel's brows lifted slightly. "The ones that vanished almost as quickly as they appeared?"
"Yes," Brian confirmed. "They were sold out almost immediately due to their price, but their scarcity has only driven their value even higher. If the man standing before us is truly behind both this elixir and those A-Rank potions..."
He trailed off, then looked at her seriously.
"Then I would strongly advise you not to make an enemy of him."
Uriel exhaled slowly, weighing the implication of his words. "If this potion were to be given a market value... how much would it cost?"
Brian shook his head, clearly overwhelmed. "Truthfully? This potion is priceless. But if a price tag must be placed, I'd say no less than one billion."
Uriel leaned back slightly, eyes narrowing. "How pricey."
"That's because it doesn't just heal. It regenerates. It restores vitality, removes curses, and elevates stats. This isn't a potion—it's an elixir. Something that belongs in myths," Brian explained.
Just then, a cold voice cut through the air, shifting the room's mood in an instant.
"Are you done with your discussion?" Snow asked, his tone icy and impatient.
Brian straightened and bowed his head slightly. "Forgive me, sir... may I ask your name? Or perhaps your alias?"
"You may call me Raven," Snow replied, his voice calm yet laced with quiet authority.
"Ah, Mr. Raven," Brian said with a respectful nod. "If I may... how many of these potions currently exist?"
"I had originally intended to auction three," Snow said, his tone even. "But given the circumstances, I've decided to auction only two."
He offered no hint as to the total number created.
"Is there a reason for the question?" he asked, his voice suddenly cold again.
"My apologies," Brian said, lowering his gaze slightly. "It's just that... a potion of this magnitude could incite conflict across the world the moment its existence becomes public knowledge."
Brian's reply was enough to freeze the room in place.
"Then I suppose it would become a world war, if the world knew I've created potions far more powerful than this one."
Silence fell like a thunderclap. No one moved. No one spoke.
Snow leaned back in his chair, unbothered by their stunned expressions. "But that isn't the issue anymore."
He turned his masked gaze to Uriel. "Now that you're done appraising it... Uriel Hephaestus, would you mind returning the potion?"
Uriel didn't flinch. "The answer is still no. But I'd like to offer you a deal."
"A deal?" Snow asked, curiosity flickering behind his mask.
"Yes. A deal."
"Then speak," he said flatly.
"I'm aware the Bright Family was originally in charge of this auction," Uriel began. "But given their current circumstances, it would be difficult for them to handle the chaos that would follow."
She leaned forward slightly.
"I'll admit, the earlier offer was intentionally unfair. I was hoping it would bring you here. But my true intention is to propose a partnership—a collaboration between the Hephaestus Auction House and the Bright Auction House."
"And what would that entail?" Snow asked.
"In this partnership," she said, "the Hephaestus family would take on the role of appearing to be the source of this potion. That way, any backlash or chaos would fall upon us—not the Brights."
"In other words," Snow said, as if reading her mind, "you want to be their shield."
"Exactly," Uriel confirmed without hesitation.
Snow said nothing. He simply stared.
"And what benefit," he asked after a pause, "would the Bright Family gain from such a deal?"
"They would be freed from scrutiny," she replied.
"I see."
Snow stood slowly. With deliberate calm, he adjusted his coat, brushing off invisible dust from his shoulder. Then he looked down at her with a gaze full of cold disappointment.
"I suppose it's no use."
Uriel tensed. "Isn't the deal to your liking?"
Snow remained silent. Instead, he reached into his coat and retrieved another vial—identical to the first—and placed it gently on the table.
"It's a disappointment," he said.
"There will be no future dealings between me and the Hephaestus family. Nor will there be any future dealings with the black market."
Uriel's eyes widened in alarm. "Wait—what?! Don't do that!" she said, rising to her feet.
"You have that potion only because you were shown grace," Snow said without looking at her. "And I'll allow you to keep it."
He turned away, walking toward the exit. "The restrictions have been lifted. It can now be ingested by anyone."
"I said wait!" Uriel called out after him, desperation seeping into her voice.
But he didn't stop. Iris followed silently behind him, her expression unreadable.
Brian remained where he stood, watching as the man known as Raven left the room without once looking back.
"You were warned, Madam Hephaestus," he said quietly. "I told you not to make an enemy of him."
"I was only trying to help the Bright Family..." Uriel muttered, staring at the vial still on the table, as if it now weighed a thousand times heavier than before.
Brian looked down at it again. Whatever chance she had at forming a connection with that man had just walked out the door—and it would not return.
"You weren't helping, Aunt," Ruciel said quietly.
Her voice was calm, but the disappointment it carried struck harder than any raised tone. "You clearly weren't. You were after the potion."
Uriel flinched as if the words physically struck her. Her expression twisted, devastation washing over her features as she realized just how far she'd misstepped.
Brian, meanwhile, observed the potion in his hand one last time before setting it down with a sigh.
"By the way," he began, looking at Uriel. "Do you even know who Snow Quincy is?"
Uriel blinked, caught off guard. "No. Should I?"
Brian gave her a pointed look. "If you intend to appeal to Raven... then yes. Because you'll have to appeal to his true identity."
Ruciel's eyes widened, the implication settling in. "Are you saying Snow Quincy is the creator of the potion?"
Brian nodded. "That's the name listed as the alchemist."
Uriel's breath hitched.
Ruciel quickly reached into her pouch and pulled out a potion—sleek, crystalline, and glowing faintly. "Then... could you check the name on this one?" she asked hurriedly. "It's the high-grade potion he gave me."
Brian accepted it, turning it over in his gloved hand. As he examined it, a frown tugged at his lips.
"This one... this isn't the same as the ones circulating on the market."
His tone was laced with confusion and intrigue.
"Miss Ruciel, where did you get this?" he asked, brows furrowed.
"I told you. Snow gave it to me," she replied plainly.
Brian blinked in disbelief. "And... and why haven't you used it?"
Ruciel tilted her head. "Do I have to drink something like that?"
Brian exhaled a long, frustrated breath and muttered, "Like aunt, like niece."
"That potion," he said, lifting it slightly, "isn't just a health or mana potion. It's an elixir."
Uriel stiffened again, this time leaning in.
"It may look ordinary, but what you're holding can enhance physical strength and stamina. It increases mana capacity. You'll receive a +25 boost to dexterity and a 50% increase in affinity with fire or flame-based skills."
He paused, letting the words sink in.
"And that's not all. It also grants near-total immunity to poisons, curses, and minor status ailments. In short—it pushes your limits."
Ruciel stared down at the bottle, now seeing it in a completely different light.
"If what you're saying is true... how much would it cost to make something like this?" she asked, her voice soft.
Brian scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Considering the effects, I'd say the creator carefully gathered rare herbs and poisonous components, likely A-grade or higher. That alone would cost between 30 to 50 million."
"But," he added, "creating a potion like this isn't easy. There are failures—experiments, wasted materials. The real cost could soar above 50 million depending on the number of trial-and-error attempts."
He shook his head. "Alchemy is about skill. And not everyone is good at it."
He looked at her seriously. "My advice? Take that potion—soon."
"Why?" Ruciel asked, blinking.
"Because just like that one was created with someone specific in mind, this one was too," Brian said.
"It's nearly impossible to craft a potion tailored to a single person unless the alchemist cares deeply about them. Potions of this caliber aren't sold—they're found as rare drops in dungeons. You've been given something others would kill for."
He sighed deeply and began putting on his coat, slipping off his gloves.
"Don't waste the opportunity you've been given," he said, lifting his briefcase. "I'll take my leave now."
He bowed slightly before stepping out.
As the door clicked shut behind him, silence settled for a moment—only to be shattered by Uriel.
"Hey!" she turned to Ruciel with a mix of urgency and burning curiosity. "Tell me—who is Snow Quincy, really?"
Ruciel leaned away, slightly annoyed. "C'mon, Aunt, stop pestering me."
"Tch," Uriel clicked her tongue and forced her niece to sit. "So? Who is he?" she asked, leaning in with eager eyes.
"I met him a week ago," Ruciel said at last, begrudgingly. "At the summit."
Uriel raised a brow. "Go on."
"Well... apparently he had just broken up with his girlfriend—Lola. And then... he came to me."
Ruciel scratched her head, a faint blush creeping onto her face.
"He said the most absurd thing—asked me to become his woman. In return, he said he'd help me reach S-Rank."
Uriel's eyes lit up. "How bold."
"Right?" Ruciel sighed. "I thought he was mocking me. So I beat him up."
Uriel's jaw dropped. "You what?"
"But he wasn't fazed," Ruciel went on. "None of my attacks left a scratch on him."
Uriel was hooked. "And then what?"
"Well... I accepted, just to see what he was up to. First thing he did? Made me take a herbal bath."
Uriel's mouth opened, then closed. "Seriously?"
"Then, he made me solo five C-Rank beasts. Every day. For three days straight."
Uriel whistled softly. "He really meant business."
"On the third day, I met him again. He cooked a meal—some strange stew. Every time I took a bite, my strength and stamina spiked."
"Wait, what?" Uriel blinked in disbelief. "Niece... that kind of food doesn't exist."
Ruciel met her gaze steadily. "Indeed. That's what I thought, too. Until I experienced it for myself."
Uriel stared at her, the pieces beginning to fall into place. "If what you say is true... then that explains the change I sensed in you earlier."
"What change?" Ruciel asked, puzzled.
Uriel looked away briefly, a shadow crossing her face. She realized now just how badly she had misread the situation.
"Please," she said, her voice more serious than before. "Tell me you didn't get into a fight with him."
Ruciel paused, caught off guard. "Wait... how did you know?"
Uriel said nothing.
"You... you did fight him?" she asked, a look of disappointment etching into her features. "He clearly likes you. He did everything he could to help you grow stronger, and you repaid that with a fight?"
"He was weird!" Ruciel said defensively. "He kept saying all this cryptic stuff that didn't make sense—"
Uriel's patience frayed. "Don't disappoint me, Ruciel. If he didn't care about you—or had some ulterior motive—he wouldn't have put in that much effort."
Her eyes burned with frustration as she continued. "He named a potion after you, damn it!"
Ruciel looked away, conflicted.
"Or did one of your so-called friends talk you into doubting him?" Uriel asked sharply.
"Of course not!" Ruciel replied quickly.
"Then what? Your reputation? Or... are you still carrying the burden of your father's condition? He's been in a coma for six years, Ruciel."
Ruciel said nothing. Her silence was answer enough.
Uriel let out a long sigh. "You're still too green. All you've ever done is devote yourself to your career... and to your family."
She stood, brushing off her coat.
"You could gain so much—just by standing beside someone capable of brewing high-grade elixirs. And yet you hesitate... all because of fears that don't matter."
Uriel shook her head. "Don't throw away this opportunity."
She turned to leave.
"I have an auction to oversee. You should return home and think carefully about what you want."
"Wait," Ruciel called after her. "Can't I just buy one of those potions from you?"
Uriel paused at the door and gave a dry chuckle. "You're funny, little niece."
"I know you want to help your father," she added, her tone softening only slightly. "But right now, you've got more urgent things to think about. Miss this chance... and you'll lose more than just a potion."
Without waiting for a reply, she left, taking the secure case of vials with her. The sound of the door shutting behind her echoed with finality.
Left alone, Ruciel sat in silence, her fingers wrapped tightly around the potion Snow had given her. Her thoughts raced.
Hours later, she found herself lying in bed, still fully dressed, the bottle held tightly in her hand. Her penthouse, which overlooked the city from a district not far from the Hunter Association building, felt unusually cold despite its luxury.
She had watched the auction on her tablet—the final bid for each of the two potions had reached an astonishing 20 billion. The press had swarmed the event, but since its conclusion, not a single news outlet had released a statement.
Ruciel narrowed her eyes.
Too quiet.
She glanced at the potion again and sighed, recalling Brian's words.
"...Take it. As soon as possible."
"Fine," she muttered and sat upright. "Let's see what all the fuss is about."
With a quick motion, she uncorked the vial and tilted it back, downing the contents in one swift gulp.
"See?" she said after a second. "Nothing—"
Her words cut off into a scream.
The pain hit like a tidal wave—her stomach twisted, her muscles convulsed. She clutched the bed, her fingers tearing at the sheets.
"DAMN IT, SNOW! WHAT DID YOU MAKE ME DRINK?!"
Her voice echoed as a burst of heat radiated from her core. Flames flared from her skin—her innate ability reacting wildly. The bed beneath her caught fire, the walls flickered with heat distortion. The room glowed with an intense light.
Then—silence.
The flames vanished as quickly as they came. The room returned to stillness.
Ruciel lay unconscious on the scorched bed, breathing shallow, her body steaming. And yet, despite the chaos, not a single object in the room was burned or damaged.
Only she had collapse.
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to be continued...