"I expect that fellow would have some complaints, right?"
Seated on the Iron Crystal Throne, beneath the massive Alchemy Reactor, the Great Grandmaster suddenly looked up from his workbench.
The Director of Affairs by his side chuckled. "Please forgive my bluntness, but if I were in his shoes, I might very well have seized power... It's clear His Excellency the Secretary is quite adept at this."
"Don't young people nowadays understand the good intentions behind their leaders' efforts?"
The Great Grandmaster clicked his tongue in displeasure. "That fellow, he might not even be aware of that damned smell on him anymore..."
"To tell you the truth, I haven't smelled a thing." The Director of Affairs glanced at his superior. "Hasn't your nose been useless for many years now?"
"It merely became a bit different from a normal person's. Though I lost my ordinary sense of smell, my other senses became sharper. Sometimes I truly don't know if that accident was a good or bad thing."
The Great Grandmaster paused his work for a moment, then suddenly let out a mocking laugh. "Maybe if it had happened twenty years earlier, I would have been ecstatic about such a change."
"I do hope you recover sooner rather than later."
The Director of Affairs shrugged. "But right now, I'm more curious about this smell you're mentioning."
Ever since that catastrophic furnace explosion, the Great Grandmaster had become like this.
One could say that being able to transform into this state alone was a testament to the Great Grandmaster's ultimate mastery of Alchemy.
He had lost seventy-two percent of his skin, suffered severe burns, lost two-thirds of his body, and sustained fatal injuries to his heart, liver, and internal organs.
His Stigma shattered, and his soul completely disintegrated.
In the tightly sealed Alchemy Workshop, with no one to rescue him, he miraculously returned to the world of the living after twenty-seven hours of self-treatment and struggle.
The Alchemist who forged miracles had once again forged his own life.
And as a price, he lost most of his emotions and all sense of touch. The very foundation of his life sublimated from fragile carbon-based compounds to the workings of miracles.
His entire being had transformed into an Alchemy Furnace, unceasingly forging miracles from his very life.
A black box.
No one knew how this black box operated internally. Many were even unsure if the Great Grandmaster before them was the Alchemist of old, or an autonomous answering machine he had created in his final moments to simulate himself.
But the Director of Affairs never doubted.
Whether it was the severely depressed patient mired in despondency or the emotionless, iron-cold man before him now, he could feel his dear friend still resided within that shell, burning fiercely and unceasingly like a flame.
By discarding most of his human form and transforming himself into a humanoid Border Relic, the Great Grandmaster acquired senses and vision that transcended common understanding.
The more inhuman he became, the closer he seemed to the essence of miracles.
All pretense and falsehood were useless before him.
Thus, when the Great Grandmaster spoke of his perceptions, the Director of Affairs showed no surprise. He was more interested in what exactly the Great Grandmaster sensed from this young man.
"A foul stench," the Great Grandmaster replied without mercy, his disdain absolute. "It's that... naive and stubborn stink of a brat! He ignores the situation, the atmosphere, whether something is appropriate, and has no sense of restraint. Once he starts throwing a tantrum, it becomes an uncontrollable mess.
Whenever such a person gets involved, they always end up causing headaches for everyone.
He's just like Luo Su in this regard. No wonder those two bastards hit it off..."
"What else?"
"A sour smell, detectable from hundreds of meters away. Just how many affairs is that guy juggling? Why hasn't he spontaneously combusted yet? It wouldn't be surprising if his lovers tore him to pieces one day."
"Ahaha, young people certainly know how to live it up." The Director of Affairs chuckled softly. "In my opinion, managing to make girls like him is quite an impressive talent. You see, Great Grandmaster, you lack this particular talent..."
The Great Grandmaster glared over.
The Director of Affairs shrugged indifferently, not intimidated at all. We've been partners for so many years, who are you trying to scare?
"What else?" the Director of Affairs persisted.
"What 'what else'?"
"To earn the Great Grandmaster's envy, he must have more going for him than just idealism and a way with women, right?"
"Envy?" The Great Grandmaster paused, frowning. "I'm envious of him?"
"Yes, envious."
The Director of Affairs looked up, his gaze serious. "Over the years, I've seen many people anger you, but to make you feel genuine envy and displeasure... he's the first. Are my old eyes deceiving me, Your Excellency, or have I misunderstood something?"
After glaring at him for a long while, the Great Grandmaster eventually let out a helpless snort.
"...You old dog, your nose is much sharper than mine, isn't it?"
"I'm flattered." The Director of Affairs, smiling, asked, "So, what's the answer?"
"...Bitterness."
The Great Grandmaster was silent for a long time, then spoke discontentedly, "There's also bitterness."
"Bitterness?"
"Yes, it's not the tragic bitterness of almonds, nor the astringency born from suffering. It's a very rare kind of bitterness—like the last mouthful of poison."
After all these years, the Director of Affairs still couldn't get used to the Great Grandmaster's strange analogies, nor could he fully grasp his meaning.
"That taste isn't his own. It's a gift left by something else, entrusted to him as if it were hope. Except, what they left behind is the antithesis of hope, and entirely different from despair."
The Great Grandmaster pondered for a long while, then said softly, "If I had to put a name to it... liberation, perhaps?"