Steel, Guns, and the Industrial Party in Another World

TL: Etude

Will sat sullenly in a restaurant in Lakeheart Town, nursing his drink.

A month ago, he was a celebrated alchemist in Crystal Shine City, with a renowned workshop and a comfortable income, free from worries about food and drink.

However, since he took on that damned job, he had plummeted to the nadir of his life.

It all started when a regular customer introduced him to a high-ranking official, someone so powerful he could easily crush Will like an insect.

This dignitary needed help with a physical issue and sought the expertise of Will, the alchemist.

As Will cynically wondered if the official’s problem was bedroom-related, the man removed his hat, revealing a nearly bald head. Well, not completely bald – a few stubborn warriors still held their ground.

“Mr. Alchemist, I’m not yet middle-aged, and I certainly don’t want to go bald early!”

The official’s despair was evident in his voice, clearly worried about his current appearance and the grim future ahead.

“Sir, I am willing to take on your commission, but it may require multiple experiments and continuous improvement,” Will replied without hesitation, seeing it as a crucial opportunity for social advancement.

The client who recommended him had already mentioned that solving the official’s problem could earn Will a baron’s title, possibly even a viscount’s.

A baron, though the lowest in the noble hierarchy, was still a noble, outranking knights. The thought of commoners respectfully addressing him as “Lord Will” was tantalizing. Grasping this chance could bless his descendants.

So, Will readily agreed on the spot. His family had been in the alchemy business for generations, and he happened to have a family recipe related to hair loss treatment.

He asked the official to personally test the medication, citing individual differences in body constitution and assuring him that nothing harmful would be added.

The official agreed, probably having servants to test for poisons and not overly concerned about Will’s intentions.

The official was pleased and even shared dinner with Will that day, an honor, though the official was just trying his luck.

Will searched his house for the recipe and spent a week hastily preparing the first version of the potion. He eagerly delivered it to his influential client and returned home to await good news.

A few days later, the official’s servant arrived, politely inviting Will over. Elated, Will thought the first potion had worked – what luck!

However, upon arriving at the official’s residence, the sight nearly made him faint.

The official’s head was now completely bald, the last of the brave warriors fallen.

“Look at what you’ve done, you fool!”

The official, spitting in rage and disregarding his status, was clearly furious.

“Phooey! Some alchemist you are. I see you’re nothing but a charlatan!”

“Scum of the gutter! Rat of the sewers!”

“I’ll publicly expose you, ruin your reputation! Just wait, you idiot!”

Two burly guards grabbed Will as he struggled and protested his innocence.

“Sir, please give me another chance! Ah… maybe the potion wasn’t meant for external use, perhaps it should be ingested… Please, try it again!”

“Get out! You think I would trust you again?”

Consequently, Will was stripped of his clothes, shaved bald, and wrapped only in a tattered cloth before being caged and displayed near the city gate for several days.

As a somewhat renowned alchemist, Will felt so humiliated that he even contemplated suicide.

When he was finally released, he found his shop wrecked and the townspeople pointing and whispering about his recent misfortune.

“Father, I’m sorry!” he mumbled to himself, sitting dazedly in the doorway.

Two figures approached him.

“Is this the poor soul who offended some big shot?”

“Yes, I saw him by the city gate. Heard he’s an alchemist.”

One of them asked Will, “Hey, mate! Can you hear me?”

Will instinctively lifted his head, his gaze still vacant.

“He might have lost his mind from the shock.”

“Let’s try something.”

One of them handed Will a paper. “Do you recognize the words here?”

Will’s mind was blank, and without thinking, he began to read.

“Good, he can read. Alchemist or not, let’s take him. Completing our quota means a bonus this month.”

He said to Will, “Brother, it seems you can’t make it in the capital anymore. Lord Grayman in Northwest Bay is recruiting talents. Want to try your luck?”

“Go…” Will replied weakly.

“That’s what I wanted to hear!”

The man helped Will onto a carriage.

Two days later, when Will regained his senses, he found himself in a large covered wagon, realizing he had been recruited by some lord. Upon inquiring, he learned it was Northwest Bay, a desolate place.

Though he couldn’t stay in the capital, his skills could support him elsewhere; why suffer in such a godforsaken place?

He started to protest and demanded to get off, but someone in the wagon showed him a paper.

“Mr. Will, according to the contract you signed with us, you are obliged to serve Lord Paul Grayman for at least five years.”

“Contract? What damned contract? I never signed anything.”

“Take a closer look.”

Will saw his own name and handwriting on the contract, indeed agreeing to serve a Count named Paul Grayman for five years.

“You… you’re kidnapping me! I wasn’t fully conscious!”

“Oh, Mr. Will, you’ve just offended one noble, surely you wouldn’t want to offend another?”

“You!” The alchemist pointed at him angrily and fearfully, then slumped in resignation.

Indeed, he was just a commoner now, unable to afford offending even a lord of Northwest Bay.

“Sigh, just take it one step at a time.”

Will leaned against the window, feeling his future was bleak.

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