Ren rolled his shoulders out as he stepped up to the testing bench.

  The Alchemy Guild test hall wasn’t huge — just a long stone room with rows of individual crafting stations — but today it felt massive, with a dozen players watching from the side benches and several guild apprentices whispering excitedly. Even the Guildmaster, an elderly dwarf with a thick leather apron and arms like tree trunks, was sitting back in his high stool with a skeptical look.

  After all, this wasn’t normal. Most players didn’t even attempt the Level 1 Alchemy Certification until they were at least Level 10. Even then, most of them would probably fail the first try. It usually took two or three attempts — and a lot of wasted ingredients — before they even got close.

  Ren wasn’t Level 10. He wasn’t even Level 5. He was Level 4 and walking up like he owned the place.

  ‘Let’s get this done,’ Ren thought as he surveyed the ingredients laid out in front of him.

  The basic recipe for a healing potion was simple enough. One Redleaf Herb for the stimulant base, one vial of Clearwell Water for the purified liquid, and one pinch of Bitterroot Dust for stabilization.

  Easy enough, if you were willing to be basic about it.

  But Ren wasn’t here to be basic.

  Because Ren was operating in freeplay mode, and thanks to his hidden +5% Alchemical Insight passive from completing Widow Shelley’s questline, he had an edge — a small one, but an edge nonetheless.

  He made some subtle changes. Instead of basic Clearwell Water, he used spring-refined water, a better quality version meant for advanced tests. He swapped Bitterroot Dust for Gloomsprite Dust, something he had collected himself. It wasn’t standard, but it was known among veteran alchemists that Gloomsprite Dust could purify mixtures even better — if you knew how to handle it. For the Redleaf Herb, he pre-treated it by carefully removing the stems and lightly bruising the leaves for better extraction.

  None of this broke the rules. The testing table had all these ingredients set aside for those who dared to use them. Very few players did.

  Ren moved smoothly, pouring and grinding, careful with his measurements and patient with his mixing. Unlike most players who just clicked “craft” and prayed to RNG, Ren worked the potion manually — controlling the heat precisely, stirring the mixture in perfect figure-eights with his silver stirring rod, keeping the colors and fumes exactly where they needed to be.

  The mixture turned a bright, vibrant crimson — the correct color — and he cooled it down just in time with a soft application of spring vapor.

  The system chimed.

  [Potion Crafted: Basic Healing Potion – Grade: Perfect]

  The apprentices gasped.

  Even the Guildmaster leaned forward, eyebrows lifting.

  Ren didn’t stop. He quickly reset the table, moving faster but just as carefully, and crafted another.

  [Potion Crafted: Basic Healing Potion – Grade: Perfect]

  A stunned silence rippled across the hall.

  Ren smirked internally and made the third.

  [Potion Crafted: Basic Healing Potion – Grade: Perfect]

  Three perfects in a row.

  The apprentices stared at him like he had grown a second head. The other players waiting for their tests looked sick. And the Guildmaster?

  The dwarf let out a long, low whistle and stood up.

  “Well now,” he said, voice booming across the room. “I’ll be a goblin’s uncle.”

  He stomped over, snatched one of the potions from the rack, and held it up to the light. He swirled it. Sniffed it. Eyed the clarity and purity.

  It practically glowed.

  “This… this is perfect, lad. Not good, not great. Perfect.”

  Someone in the back clapped.

  Then another.

  Then the entire room was applauding.

  Ren shrugged casually, hiding his grin.

  ‘Nothing special,’ he thought smugly. ‘Just a little freeplay mode, a little +5% hidden bonus, and the world’s best alchemist reincarnated.’

  The Guildmaster turned toward the crowd, still holding the potion high.

  “Mark my words!” he roared. “This one’s gonna be a Master Alchemist someday!”

  Ren grinned.

  ‘Correction,’ he thought. ‘Again.’

  Three perfect-grade potions in a row.

  As a level 1 Alchemist.

  It shouldn’t have been possible.

  Normally, players at level 10 barely managed average results. And even that was after dozens of failed batches, losing precious ingredients along the way.

  In Towerbound, the success and grade of a potion are determined by several factors: the alchemist’s level (which is separate from their class level), the difficulty of the potion being brewed, the quality of ingredients used, the tools available during crafting, environmental bonuses like labs or temporary buffs, and any special perks like Ren’s Potion Transcendence.

  A basic healing potion is considered the easiest recipe, but most beginners only have about a 30% success rate. As players improve in alchemy, their chances increase. Better ingredients, upgraded tools, and optimal conditions all boost that success rate. If the craft is exceptionally good, the potion’s grade improves.

  There are two main crafting modes: Auto Mode and Freeplay Mode. In Auto Mode, the system handles everything and guarantees a fixed success percentage based on your stats, ingredients, and setup. It’s safe and reliable, but capped. Freeplay Mode, however, lets players manually perform the steps—grinding, heating, pouring, timing. It’s riskier, but it allows the system to truly evaluate your skill. In Freeplay, alchemists could outperform their level or even underperform if they weren’t focused. This is where elite potion makers shine, turning decent ingredients into high-tier results.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Potion grades, from lowest to highest, are: Crude, Common, Fine, Rare, Epic, Perfect, and Mythical. Crude potions are barely functional. Common potions are the standard. Fine potions have slight boosts in potency and duration. Rare potions offer stronger effects and better reliability. Epic potions include secondary benefits or status effects. Perfect potions max out every stat with zero flaws. And Mythical potions—only achievable through immense skill or bonuses like Potion Transcendence—can trigger hidden effects, permanent enhancements, or rare synergies.

  [System Notification: Congratulations! You have crafted three Perfect-Grade Potions! Basic Alchemist Certification Passed with Highest Honors.]

  [World Notification: Player Ren has achieved the first-ranked Alchemist Certification in Towerbound.]

  Everyone in the room?

  They lost it.

  “Three?!” someone gasped. “That’s number three!”

  “No—no, hold up. That’s not normal. That’s broken.”

  “That’s bugged. It has to be bugged.”

  Around him, the alchemy chamber turned into a swirl of voices. Apprentices peered over shoulders. Senior crafters abandoned their stations. Even a few NPC guild-affiliated alchemists stepped closer, brows furrowed, eyes narrowed.

  “He’s cheating,” someone whispered. “Has to be.”

  “He’s not. I watched him. Freeplay Mode. Perfect technique. Didn’t even use a stabilizer.”

  “This guy’s rolling Perfects like he’s flipping pancakes.”

  Ren said nothing. He just cleaned his equipment slowly, carefully, like he had all the time in the world. He didn’t need to gloat. The potion spoke for itself.

  Then came the ping.

  [ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED: Potion Transcendence]

  BONUS: 5% chance to upgrade a Perfect potion into a Mythical-Grade potion.

  That made things worse.

  “What the hell is that?!” someone cried.

  “He’s unlocking hidden perks already? What is this—Day one?!”

  “I haven’t even a potion yet,” someone grumbled, deadpan.

  A pair of players in matching robes stepped forward, trying to sound casual. “You in a guild?” one asked.

  “You interested in a partnership?” the other added. “We can fund you. Reagents, workspace, everything.”

  Ren blinked.

  Across the room, a bespectacled Druid from a major PvE guild waved. “We’ll throw in a branded cloak and guild housing.”

  Another voice: “Crimson Pact’s recruiting crafters. You’d be top priority.”

  “We’ve got regional bonuses and alliance contracts,” someone added.

  “I’ll give you my old car!” another shouted. “And my cat!”

  The offers flew fast. Compliments turned into competition. Guild reps muttered behind their hands. Someone offered actual gold.

  Ren just stared down at the three shimmering potions in front of him and gave a small, satisfied smile.

  ‘Holy shit,’ Ren thought, grinning. ‘I actually pulled it off.’

  He bowed slightly to the stunned Guildmaster, who was still blinking like someone had just slapped him with a sack of gold.

  “You… you’re definitely qualified,” the Guildmaster managed to say hoarsely.

  Ren slipped the three perfect-grade potions into his inventory with a snap of his fingers. During testing regardless of failure or success the applicant could keep their results. The five silvers for level one was partially because of this. They could... The five silvers more than covered any possible ingredients that the applicant would be using. And more often than not, they wouldn't even get three potions out of it, let alone three perfect potions.

  He didn’t have the gear yet to chase mythical potions seriously—not with only a 5% bonus—but it didn’t matter.

  Because now?

  Now the entire world knew that Ren was the first true alchemist of Towerbound.

  The Guildmaster—still recovering from the shock—stepped closer, clearing his throat.

  “You,” he said, struggling to find the words. “Would you be interested… in taking an official position?”

  Ren blinked.

  Normally, all players who passed their Alchemy Certification were automatically members of the Alchemist Guild. That was standard. It gave them basic privileges: access to guild stores, crafting stations, and minor reputation boosts with alchemy-related NPCs.

  But an actual position inside the guild?

  That was something different altogether. He hadn’t expected this. It hadn't happened in his first lifetime because he wasn't the first person to qualify as a level 1 alchemist. And he definitely wasn't the first person to get 3 perfects on a level 1 alchemist test.

  Positions within the Alchemist guild came with real benefits: authority, better access to ingredients, discounted material costs, and access to private recipes.

  It was also extremely rare for a new alchemist, even a certified one, to be offered a position right out of the gate.

  The Guildmaster straightened his back and looked Ren in the eyes.

  “I’d like to offer you a spot as a Junior Instructor,” the older alchemist said. “You’ll have responsibilities, but you’ll also gain guild status—and if you prove yourself, there’s room to rise through the ranks.”

  A soft ding echoed in Ren’s ear as a system notification appeared:

  [Special Opportunity: Join the Alchemist Guild Hierarchy?]

  Below it, a breakdown of the guild structure appeared in simple, plain text:

  Alchemist Guild Ranks:

  – Junior Instructor – Entry-level mentor role. Assists with basic teaching and minor administrative tasks.

  – Senior Instructor – Guides apprentice alchemists. Granted access to guild recipes and smaller-scale projects.

  – Guild Researcher – Permitted to develop and submit custom alchemical recipes for review.

  – Guild Officer – Oversees sections of the guild. Manages materials, teaching assignments, and internal operations.

  – Master Alchemist – Trusted with guild secrets. Holds significant crafting authority and leadership.

  – Guildmaster – Regional head of the Alchemist Guild. Manages diplomacy, guild-wide decisions, and major discoveries.

  Ren stared at the list, quiet.

  In his previous life, he’d only ever reached Guild Researcher. Not because he lacked the talent to go further—but because, as a full-time alchemist working for Prosperous Guild, he hadn’t needed the Alchemist Guild’s benefits. The Prosperous guild supplied him with ingredients, funded his labs, and took care of logistics. Alchemy Guild rankings had just felt like extra work.

  This time? Things were different.

  He already had two hidden perks—Alchemical Insight and Potion Transcendence.

  He was definitely going to become a junior instructor. It was an official title!

  But with each title came duties. Expectations. Teaching. Oversight. Administrative work.

  Ren hated duties.

  Still… if he wanted to climb higher, get access to rare ingredients and guild resources, he’d need to play the game on both fronts.

  He let out a quiet sigh and confirmed the offer.

  There were worse things than being called “Instructor Ren.”

  Ren stared at the window for a second, his mind racing.

  ‘Holy hell,’ he thought. ‘They’re offering me a foot into the political structure already.’

  He couldn’t resist a small smile.

  “Sure,” Ren said casually. “I’d be honored.”

  The Guildmaster beamed, clapping him on the shoulder so hard it nearly staggered him.

  “Good, good!” the man said. “You’re exactly the kind of talent we need. Welcome aboard, Instructor Ren.”

  As a Junior Instructor, Ren now officially had a title—and even better, he had a wage.

  The Guildmaster waved his hand and the system chimed.

  [New Title: Junior Instructor – Alchemist Guild]

  Wage: 3 silver per day (paid at midnight server time)

  Responsibilities:

  – Assist with basic teaching and theory classes

  – Host at least one beginner lesson per day

  – Report any unusual alchemy results to Senior Instructors

  For most players, three silver a day was nothing to sneeze at.

  At the current early game economy, three silver was enough to cover basic repairs, potions, and even allow a few luxuries—like upgraded food instead of barely edible starter bread.

  For Ren, it was even better.

  Because unlike most players, he wasn’t planning on bleeding for his supper.

  He grinned to himself, reading the simple list of responsibilities.

  Assist teaching newbies?

  Host a basic class or two?

  ‘Hell, that’s way better than fighting mutant crocodiles or getting stabbed by random goblins,’ Ren thought with satisfaction.

  In the Alchemist Guild, the only danger he faced was the occasional exploding potion from a nervous newbie or a clumsy misfire from a reckless apprentice.

  In the wild?

  In the wild, it was broken ribs, punctured lungs, and bleeding out into some goblin’s filthy swamp pit.

  No thanks.

  He tucked the contract into his inventory and followed the Guildmaster deeper into the guild halls, already plotting how to make the most of his brand-new, safe, respectable position.

  Becoming a Junior Instructor wasn’t originally in Ren’s plans, but honestly? It was a damn nice bonus.

  Now he could finally go full tilt into his real plan: making credits hand over fist.