Lynn stood before the cauldron, staring at the transparent liquid with its dark-red sheen.
He stood there for a very long time.
Long enough for Dodo to poke his head through the workshop door three separate times, saying each time, "Master, the food is getting cold."
Yet Lynn remained unmoved.
Only one question revolved endlessly in his mind.
To drink, or not to drink?
[Peters Jolt] told him to drink.
There was absolutely nothing wrong with this thing.
But...
The smell made it truly difficult for him to make up his mind.
Lynn hesitated again and again, but in the end, he decided to drink the bottle of Potion that smelled utterly disgusting.
"It won't kill me anyway," he muttered, as if trying to convince himself.
He reached out, took a clean crystal bottle from the shelf, and used a dropper to fill it to the brim from the cauldron.
The liquid sloshed gently inside the bottle. It was transparent with a faint dark-red tint, like heavily diluted blood.
He held the bottle up to his eyes and examined it against the light.
There was no sediment. No suspended particles. Nothing that should not have been there.
The liquid's texture was uniform, its flow smooth, and it looked no different from an ordinary Potion.
Except for the smell.
That smell...
One whiff was enough to make his stomach turn upside down.
Lynn took a deep breath and slowly exhaled.
Then he pinched his nose, gritted his teeth, closed his eyes, raised the bottle to his lips, tilted his head back, and gulped it down.
The moment the liquid slid down his throat, an extreme, primal nausea arose within him.
It was a mixture of every negative flavor imaginable, something that transcended the limits of human senses.
Lynn felt as though something was repeatedly elbowing his taste buds.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Every blow struck precisely against his most sensitive nerve endings.
His tongue lost all sensation in an instant, then regained it—only to lose it again beneath an even more intense wave of stimulation.
His stomach churned, and acid surged up from his gut, rushing straight toward his throat.
He opened his mouth, just about to retch—
Then, suddenly, an unspeakable pain exploded from deep within his body.
The pain came far too quickly.
Like lightning, it burst from his chest and spread outward, racing through his blood vessels, his nerves, every bone, every muscle, and every cell in his body.
Lynn froze.
His eyes widened, his pupils shrinking to pinpricks. His mouth was open, but he could not make a sound.
His fingers spasmed, and his wand slipped from his hand, striking the floor with a crisp clatter.
Immediately afterward, the blood flowing through his body seemed to boil.
He could feel it surging through his veins. With every heartbeat, the boiling blood was pumped throughout his body, carrying that scorching sensation into every corner.
His skin began turning red.
Starting from his chest, the color spread outward.
It grew deeper.
More intense.
His body temperature skyrocketed.
He felt as though he had been stuffed into a blazing furnace. Even the surrounding air began to distort.
As his body changed, waves of scorching pressure burst outward from him, completely beyond his control.
The shockwaves surged from his body and spread in every direction.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
The bottles and jars arranged on the shelves shattered all at once. Glass fragments flew everywhere as liquid sprayed through the workshop.
Polyjuice Potion, Amortentia, Felix Felicis, Veritaserum, Wolfsbane Potion...
A whole collection of precious and ordinary Potions was destroyed without exception.
Lynn felt incomparable heartache.
How much time, energy, and how many Galleons had he spent brewing those Potions?!
And now they were all gone.
Not a single drop remained.
He tried to forcibly control the rampaging energy within his body, attempting to suppress the shockwaves still pouring outward.
Just as Lynn was about to succeed, an even greater force suddenly erupted from within him.
BOOM—!!!
It was as though something had exploded inside his body.
In that instant, Lynn felt his body become lighter, as though he were being torn apart from the inside.
A rain of crimson blood sprayed through the air.
Flesh was blown into fragments, falling from above.
The scene was so tragic that even Lynn himself could hardly believe it was his own body.
A moment ago, he had been standing there, desperately suppressing the energy inside him.
Now, he collapsed directly onto the ground—if what he was doing could still be called sitting.
His body no longer resembled that of a human being.
Yet he was still alive.
He could feel his heartbeat.
He could feel himself breathing.
He could feel that his consciousness was still functioning.
Several pieces of shredded flesh clung to his face, warm and wet, still carrying the smell of blood.
The last time Lynn had felt this powerless was when he had first transmigrated into this world.
He had been surrounded by unfamiliar faces and a language he could not understand.
That feeling of helplessness had stayed with him for a long time.
But what he was feeling now was a hundred times worse.
His skin looked as though something had torn it apart from the inside. Gashes covered his body. Flesh curled back from countless wounds. Blood and exposed muscle met the air everywhere.
Calling it a bloody mess would have been an understatement.
Is this the side effect of the fusion Potion? Lynn thought.
How was he supposed to face people in the future?
Just as that thought crossed his mind, a faint glow suddenly shimmered across his body.
Gold-red light flowed over his ruined form like water, covering every inch of his skin.
Then, in the next second, new flesh began to grow.
The process was neither especially fast nor especially slow.
Lynn could clearly see something wriggling beneath his skin.
New muscle fibers formed.
New blood vessels extended.
New nerves connected.
They emerged from the torn edges like newborn vines, intertwining, weaving together, and gradually covering his skeleton layer by layer.
The entire process lasted several minutes.
When the layer of gold-red light finally faded, Lynn's body had returned to normal.
No.
It was not merely back to normal.
It was better than before.
Lynn looked down at his arm.
The skin that had once been slightly yellowish had become a soft pink. Its surface was smooth and delicate, almost too perfect.
But Lynn knew that beneath that harmless appearance lay far more strength than before.
He moved his fingers.
Every finger was flexible and free of pain, without the slightest stiffness. He clenched his fist and immediately felt that his strength had increased significantly.
He stood and took two steps.
His footing was steady. There was no discomfort anywhere in his body.
Then he walked to the mirror in the corner of the workshop and examined his face.
His complexion no longer carried the exhausted look of someone who stayed up too late. The dark circles beneath his eyes, the fine lines around his mouth, and the acne marks on his forehead had all disappeared.
He looked as though he had undergone a complete rejuvenation.
"Not bad," he muttered.
Then he turned away from the mirror.
He picked up his wand from the floor, tapped his bloodstained clothes, and then pointed it toward the mess around him.
Under the effect of the Spell, everything seemed to rewind.
The cabinets that had fallen into the corner returned to their original positions. The shattered glass bottles reformed, restoring themselves to their previous condition.
It was only a pity that the Potions themselves had long since mixed together. They were now impossible to distinguish from one another.
Even after studying magic for five years, Lynn still could not help marveling at its wonders.
After cleaning up the mess across the floor, Lynn began exploring exactly which ability he had acquired.
First, he focused on his skin.
He walked to the workbench and took a small knife from a drawer.
The knife was not large. Its blade was only a few centimeters long, but it was extremely sharp. It was his specialized tool for cutting Potion ingredients.
He held it in his hand and carefully checked the blade, confirming that it had no chips or nicks.
Then he rolled up his sleeve, exposing his forearm.
Lynn pressed the blade against his skin, took a deep breath, and then—
Slashed down hard.
Clang!
A crisp sound of metal striking metal rang through the workshop.
Lynn lowered his gaze.
The blade had broken.
It had snapped cleanly in two. The tip flew off and embedded itself in the wall with a dull thud.
Lynn was instantly overjoyed.
He had not expected his luck to be this good.
Wasn't this the same as pulling a gold card on his very first gacha draw without any pity built up?!
After all, among all the possible Dragon abilities, the odds of randomly acquiring defensive power were not very high.
Lynn set down the broken knife handle, then reached out and touched the place he had just cut.
Smooth.
Delicate.
No damage at all.
He nodded in satisfaction and moved on to the next test—active control.
Lynn concentrated and tried to make scales grow along his arm.
Almost the moment the thought appeared, scales covered his arm.
They were arranged with remarkable precision, overlapping like fish scales from his shoulder all the way to his wrist.
The scales were pitch-black, shimmering beneath the workshop lights with a cold metallic luster. Their edges were sharp and intimidating.
Lynn turned his arm over to inspect the inner side.
Scales covered that area as well, though they were smaller and thinner than those on the outer side, presumably to allow his arm to bend more easily.
Very good.
He could control them actively.
He could summon them when needed and retract them when they were not.
Lynn nodded with satisfaction and began testing the strength of the scales.
They could not possibly be weaker than Ellis's, could they?
He raised his wand and pointed it at his arm.
"Sectumsempra."
An invisible blade shot from the tip of the wand and struck his arm.
Clang—!!!
Another metallic crash rang out.
This one was louder and sharper than before.
Lynn only felt a faint tingling, as though something had lightly tapped his arm.
He looked down.
Not even a scratch had been left on the scales.
He moved his arm, then tried throwing a punch.
His fist cut through the air with a sharp whistle before slamming straight into a cabinet door.
BOOM—!!!
A loud explosion rang out.
The cabinet exploded on impact.
It burst open from the center, wooden boards flying in every direction. Nails clattered onto the floor, and the cabinet's contents spilled everywhere with a series of crashes.
Lynn maintained his punching stance, frozen in place.
He looked down at his fist.
Then he looked up at the pile of shattered wood, which no longer resembled a cabinet in the slightest.
Great.
I cleaned up for nothing.
He sighed, withdrew his fist, turned around, and looked toward the workshop entrance.
Dodo stood there, still holding a spoon.
His mouth hung open. His eyes were wide. He looked as though he had been petrified.
"Master..." Dodo's voice was faint. "That cabinet... did you break it?"
"Yes," Lynn nodded.
"With your fist?"
"Yes."
Dodo was silent for a moment.
Then he put the spoon into his apron pocket and turned to leave.
"I'm going to cook," his voice drifted back from the hallway. "I need to make more. Since you're stronger now, you'll definitely be able to eat more."
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