With a thought, Roger stored the body in his system inventory and turned toward the table in the northwest corner of the room.
He reached under the table, feeling around for a moment until a soft click echoed. Two hidden compartments popped open on the side of the table.
One was stuffed with colorful Jewel coins and checks, while the other held a single, unopened bottle of amber-colored liquor.
"'Twilight,' the one Carl bought for Allen…" Roger picked up the bottle, giving it a gentle shake. Under the lamplight, the liquid flowed slowly, like molten golden amber.
"Enhancement Magic—a magic that can imbue any object or person with special properties."
"And when it evolves, it becomes High-Level Enhancement Magic, capable of infusing any magic into any object."
Roger pulled two pieces of bread from his inventory and placed them in front of him.
"In the original story, Irene used High-Level Enhancement Magic's alternate form—Separation Enhancement—to extract someone's soul."
"So, if that's the case, can the lower-tier Enhancement Magic do the same kind of separation?"
Roger took a deep breath, focusing on one of the bread pieces, and raised his right hand.
He pictured the warm, toasty aroma of freshly baked bread, the rich creaminess of milk, and the savory blend of butter and egg.
[Enhancement Magic - Separation Enhancement]
A scarlet magic circle materialized above the bread. A faint, ghostly outline of the bread began to rise, its edges blurry and ethereal.
As time passed, the ghostly shape grew sharper. When it fully detached from the bread, it looked almost identical to the original.
Meanwhile, the real bread below seemed to age years in an instant—its color dulled rapidly, and it shriveled visibly, dry and lifeless.
The phantom "bread essence" was guided by the magic, drifting slowly toward the second piece of bread and merging with it perfectly.
Hiss—
The second bread's dark brown crust transformed at a visible rate, turning a mouthwatering golden hue, as if freshly baked under the sun.
Roger stepped forward and picked up the golden bread, surprised by its remarkably soft texture.
He broke it apart gently, and the bread split effortlessly, revealing a fine, silky, web-like texture inside.
A powerful aroma hit him—a blend of creamy milk, rich egg, and toasty wheat, weaving together into a unique, irresistible scent that practically danced into his nose.
He took a small piece and popped it into his mouth. The bread was soft, fluffy, and melted on his tongue. The intense flavors of milk, egg, and wheat spread through his mouth, and he nodded in satisfaction.
"The bread's deliciousness doubled. Separation Enhancement works."
He set the remaining bread beside the liquor bottle, then pulled a pink flower and a vibrant mushroom from his inventory.
[Enhancement Magic - Separation Enhancement]
The phantom "bread essence" rose again from the golden bread, this time like a wisp of smoke, drifting toward the amber bottle of "Twilight."
The moment the essence touched the bottle's glass, it melted into it like snowflakes in a warm hand, silently seeping inside.
Inside the bottle, the amber liquid deepened, settling into a radiant, sunset-like crimson-gold.
Following the same process, Roger extracted the calming essence of a sleeping herb and the toxic essence of the mushroom, guiding the wispy, phantom-like essences into the crimson-gold liquor.
A faint pink hue bloomed within the liquid.
Seeing the odd pink tint, Roger's face showed a knowing look.
"With my current control over magic, I can't perfectly isolate a plant's specific properties."
"Some impurities inevitably got mixed in."
"But…" He shook the bottle gently. "The rich, toasty wheat and bread aroma is strong enough to mask any off notes."
Transformation complete, Roger held the special bottle of "Twilight" and opened the door.
A middle-aged man stumbled toward him, reeking of alcohol, his beard scruffy and his steps unsteady.
"Yo… Carl… hic!" The man raised a nearly empty bottle, took a big swig, and let out a drunken burp, his eyes bleary.
"I'm here for… that bottle I asked you to get."
Roger grinned, holding up the bottle. "Allen, perfect timing. I was just about to bring it to you."
Allen waved a hand sloppily. "Nah, nah, don't bother. I knew you'd deliver it—and probably charge me a fat delivery fee."
"So I came to pick it up myself."
"When I asked you to buy it, I spent enough Jewel for two bottles of that new Twilight."
"If it wasn't for some trouble with a dark guild and Twilight's limited release ending in three days, I wouldn't have trusted anyone else to grab it."
Allen staggered forward, eagerly snatching the bottle. With a slight tug, he popped the cork and leaned in for a sniff.
In an instant, an unprecedented aroma—a rich, freshly baked bread scent mixed with the deep, luxurious notes of top-tier liquor—slammed into his senses!
"This smell…" Allen's eyes lit up, his throat bobbing as he stared at the crimson-gold liquid flowing in the bottle.
"…It's even better than the rumors! No wonder it's a limited-edition 'Twilight'!"
"Just the scent makes me wanna chug the whole thing."
He wanted to savor it slowly, but the aroma was like a dazzling beauty beckoning him closer, inviting him to indulge.
After a few seconds of hesitation, Allen raised the bottle and took a sip. His eyes widened instantly, his face bursting with delight.
Gulp, gulp! Like a man parched in a desert, he drank greedily, downing the entire bottle in seconds.
"Phew…" Allen let out a long breath, closing his eyes to savor the exquisite flavor. Unwilling to let it end, he tilted the bottle upside down, shaking it hard for one last drop.
After a minute with nothing coming out, he gave up, setting the bottle down and smacking his lips, still lost in the unparalleled taste.
As he lingered on the flavor, his head started to feel heavy. His body swayed, as if he might collapse any second. He grabbed the doorframe for support.
"Allen, did you drink too fast and get drunk?" Roger's voice carried a hint of concern.
"N-No way," Allen slurred, instinctively denying it. He was known for holding his liquor—thousands of cups, no problem.
But as he looked up, his gaze locked with Carl's.
A faint purple shadow flickered deep in Allen's pupils, and an odd sensation stirred in his chest.
"This… this is an illu—"
Before he could finish, his thoughts sank into a swamp, sluggish and dull.
A soft whisper echoed in his mind: "Sleep… sleep…"
The strength drained from his limbs.
Seconds later, Allen's vision went black, and his body slumped toward the ground.
Roger stepped forward quickly, catching the falling figure and gently guiding him toward a room in the back.
"Allen, you really overdid it this time."
"If I hadn't caught you, you'd have cracked your head open—maybe even worse."
Half-carrying, half-dragging, Roger brought him into the room and laid him on the floor. He closed the door softly, glancing at the unconscious Allen.
"This 'protection fee'… I'll just hold onto it for you."
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