Allen's words were like an invisible knife, striking precisely at Draven's most vulnerable point.
Draven's expression darkened completely. He stared intently at Allen, his eyes glinting with a dangerous light.
"You sharp-tongued little brat."
Draven's voice was low and hoarse, laced with suppressed fury.
"Do you think you've really seen through everything? Do you think your little bit of cleverness will let you breeze through the academy?"
He slammed his hand on the lab bench. The Crystal Bottles on it jumped from the impact, letting out a sharp clink.
"You're right. My potions are borrowed power."
"But power is power! When an apprentice is struggling in their Meditation, getting nowhere and losing all hope, my 'Focus Potion' can grant them a one-hour miracle! That single hour is enough for them to regain their confidence and believe that they too can become stronger!"
Draven's eyes blazed with fanaticism as he pointed to an area in the room enveloped by an Energy Shield.
"Do you see what's in there? That's the 'Soul Harmonization Potion' I'm researching."
"If I succeed, it will completely change the Wizarding World! It will allow an apprentice to resonate with a specific type of Magic Power in a short amount of time, drastically improving their affinity in that field! That's real power! That's the future!"
He was getting worked up, but Allen watched him in silence, not interrupting.
"But do you know how many Magic Stones this research requires? Do you know that every day, my workshop burns through the annual income of an ordinary noble family?"
Draven's voice grew shrill with agitation, echoing sharply on the empty second floor.
"Without these freshmen as fuel, my research will stagnate! And you, Allen Wesren, you're leading my fuel down another path! You're teaching them to be self-sufficient! You're cutting me off at the roots!"
He began pacing the room like a caged beast.
"I'll give you a choice, a gift from an Advanced Apprentice to a freshman. Either accept my proposal and become part of my grand design. Your group will be the first to benefit from my potions. You'll have my protection, and your time at the academy will be smooth sailing. Or, refuse me."
He stopped pacing and turned, his eyes filled with undisguised iciness.
"Then, starting tomorrow, your study group will suddenly have a dozen new, powerful competitors. They'll use lower prices and more aggressive tactics to poach your members."
"I'll have my friends in the Alchemy Department 'casually' mention to your members that your diagnoses are just theory on paper, and only real Magic Potions can bring about tangible change."
"I could even submit a report to the academy's Task Division, questioning whether a freshman is qualified to conduct large-scale 'tutoring' activities. Believe me, your study group will fall apart in less than a month."
The threat was now specific and lethal.
Every tactic Draven described struck precisely at the soft underbelly of Allen's model: it was built on reputation and trust, two things easily destroyed by rumor and power.
Faced with Draven's ultimatum, Allen, however, did something completely unexpected.
He stood up, but instead of looking at Draven, he walked toward the Energy Shield, which was emitting a purple glow.
"Senior Draven, did you just say you were researching the 'Soul Harmonization Potion'?"
Draven frowned, not understanding why Allen would suddenly change the subject.
But he still had absolute confidence in the research he was most proud of. "That's right. What, you think you can critique my work?"
Allen reached out, his fingertips gently brushing against the cold Energy Shield.
A faint numbing sensation traveled up his arm, stopping him from passing through.
"Senior Draven, your problem isn't a lack of money."
Allen turned. The calm in his deep blue eyes was gone, replaced by a piercing insight that saw through everything. It was the irrepressible instinct of a master strategist spotting a clumsy design and feeling compelled to fix it.
"Your problem is that your research direction has been wrong from the very beginning."
"What did you say?"
Draven's pupils constricted. He reacted like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, his hackles rising instantly.
This enraged him more than the rejection. It was a complete invalidation of years of his work.
"I said,"
Allen spoke slowly, his voice clear and firm, "Your 'Soul Harmonization Potion' will never work."
"It's not an issue of funding. It's an issue of logic."
Without giving Draven a chance to explode in fury, Allen quickened his pace, his logic building layer upon layer.
"Yesterday, I was in the library consulting *An Introduction to the Essence of the Soul and the Polymorphism of Magic Power*. The book states clearly that once one advances to the rank of Official Wizard, their soul imprint becomes completely unique. The effectiveness of any universal Magic Potion drops dramatically."
What you're trying to do is use a 'Universal Key' to open countless 'unique locks.' This fundamentally violates the basic axiom of individual uniqueness."
"Your so-called 'soul harmonization' is nothing more than forcibly twisting an apprentice's unformed spiritual model to imitate a standardized Magic Mark."
"You might see short-term results, but the cost is the destruction of their future potential."
"This is far more dangerous than your 'Focus Potion.' It's not a stairway to the future; it's a dead end, like drinking poison to quench your thirst."
Draven was utterly stunned.
He opened his mouth but couldn't get a single word out.
Because what Allen had described was the single biggest bottleneck he'd encountered in his research.
He had already spent countless resources and conducted hundreds of experiments. The best result he'd ever achieved was a brief resonance in a test subject, which was immediately followed by a severe Spiritual Power backlash.
He had vaguely sensed the problem himself. He knew that even if the potion were successful, it would only be effective on apprentices and a few Official Wizards. But the enormous sunk cost made it impossible for him to turn back; he could only continue to lie to himself.
Allen took a step forward, his presence completely overwhelming the Advanced Apprentice before him.
"You're burning through a sea of Magic Stones every day just to prove a flawed theory, over and over again."
"Your workshop isn't a place of research, Senior Draven. It's just an expensive signpost that says 'Dead End.'"
Allen's words shattered the last vestiges of Draven's pride.
His face went white as a sheet. He swayed, steadying himself against the lab bench.
"What do you know?! Do you have any idea how much of my life I've poured into this? Do you know what I've sacrificed?!"
Draven snapped. His illusions shattered, he lost all reason, like a tiger ready to pounce.
Dangerous fluctuations of Magic Power began to brew around Draven.
Just then, Allen spoke:
"I can help you. I can make your potion work."
"What?" Draven was stunned.
"I said I can help you, Senior Draven. But our collaboration would have to be... different."
Allen finally laid out his proposal.
"I won't be your salesman, hawking these band-aid solutions. Instead, I'll be your partner."
"A partner? You? A low-ranking apprentice?"
Draven mumbled, his eyes filled with a mix of ridicule and disbelief.
"That's right." Allen's tone left no room for argument. "I'll help you correct your research. We'll abandon this doomed-to-fail 'universal Soul Harmonization Potion.' We can pivot to a new field: 'Individualized Spiritual Power Model Optimization.'"
"I'll be in charge of diagnostics and modeling—identifying the flaws and potential in each apprentice's Spiritual Power structure and designing a unique optimization path for them."
"And you, using your alchemical knowledge and your workshop, will provide complementary, small-dose, non-addictive support potions for these 'customized plans.' For example, a 'Micro-Conduit Potion' for a specific Spiritual Power node, or a 'Shaping Gel' to stabilize the new model."
A brilliant light shone in Allen's eyes as he laid out a completely new research path and business model for Draven.
"We'll no longer be selling one-off 'cures.' We'll be providing long-term 'personal training' services. Our clients won't be the mediocre masses looking for a shortcut, but the true elite—those with real potential who are willing to invest in their future."
"Our market ceiling won't just be apprentices. It can extend to Official Wizards, and even higher. Because every powerful Wizard needs a unique path to growth."
"I'll provide the core technology, the client pipeline, and the research subjects. As for the profits... we can negotiate."
Allen extended his hand. "This is what I call a partnership."
"So, Senior Draven, are you still going to use those underhanded tactics to destroy the one opportunity you have to escape your predicament and achieve real success?"
A dreadful silence fell over the second floor, broken only by the monotonous hum of the alchemical equipment.
Draven stared at Allen's outstretched hand, his expression a storm of conflicting emotions: shock, anger, and indignation. But underneath it all was the tremor of someone who had been seen through completely, and the desperate struggle of a man grasping at a glimmer of hope in the darkness.
'This freshman... he didn't just see through my business and my predicament; he even saw through the core of my research.'
'He hadn't just dismantled my threat; he had turned the tables and presented an offer I couldn't easily refuse.'
'This negotiation had spun completely out of my control.'
'Now, it was my turn to choose.'