Chapter 32 – Cha Bao’s First Alchemy Product

After seeing Shi Lan off, Jiang Cha opened the purchase list and swiped — she spent the entire one‑hundred “witch gold” quota at once.

Before long, bundles of low‑tier materials were delivered straight into the delivery chute of the Alchemy Lab.

“How considerate, catering to all these homebodies,” the girl said with a curl of her lips. Really, she had been planning to collect them at the front desk herself.

It would have given her a chance to get familiar with the other senior witches in the Alchemy Society, maybe tease the socially anxious senior Xinzi a little more — what harm in that?

But since the materials were delivered to her, she didn’t feel like making an extra trip.

The alchemy formulas Jiang Cha already had were all basic, universal stuff — the kind that could be in introductory textbooks. To think that ordinary alchemists could make money from just the textbook recipes? Pure fantasy.

Because the big dogs build factories at the source, use magic automatons with assembly lines for bulk production. Their scale gives them cost advantage and near‑zero labor cost. A lone artisan trying to compete? Dreaming.

So why do people say alchemy is profitable?

Because it is full of possibilities.

A profession built on the power of miracles must have boundless potential. A newcomer simply needs to find the market niche and let her creativity run.

With techniques that can alter the fundamental nature of materials, and the nearly infinite variety of raw materials across parallel worlds, the number of possible product combinations is vast. There are mid‑ and high‑tier materials she can’t yet handle — but even excluding those, there are more possibilities than she could exhaust in a lifetime.

Thus witch alchemists tend to develop products driven by demand: first imagine what you want to make, then figure out how to make it.

Don’t worry whether it can be made — remember, alchemy has endless possibilities.

At worst, something you make won’t sell. That’s just part of product development — failure cost, not alchemy’s fault.

So what product did Jiang Cha decide on?

“All the usual stuff is monopolized by the big names. Even custom pieces can’t compete with the old established artisan stalls… so I’d better try something offbeat.”

Pulling out a jade‑like piece of raw material, she bowed her head and considered whether there were designs she could carry over from her identity as someone who’s “traveled (or transplanted) from Earth” to make money here.

Then it hit her — she had crossed from Earth to Earth, but if she had time‑traveled instead, she could kill it with future knowledge. At the very least she could have been a ghostwriter. If this were a parallel world, with her face and nice voice she might become a streamer — at least food and drink wouldn’t be worry.

But she hadn’t. She’d come to a 22nd century Earth where, holy hell, witches already existed!

She could think of weird or wild products, but the local witches had already made them all. The “internet” was magic‑net, virtual reality was everywhere, travel services even offered inter‑world tours. Witch idols who could apply effects on their own streams had taken over the streaming business.

So what could Jiang Cha do? Only think harder.

After careful thought, she finally developed her first product as an alchemist.

“…Junior Jiang Cha, what is this of yours?” Shi Lan asked, staring at the innocent‑looking girl who had just handed over the product for evaluation, her eyelids twitching.

“A Love Link Tool.”

“But this of yours…”

“Senior, it’s the 22nd century. Don’t be so conservative.” Jiang Cha waved the cylindrical, boomerang‑like alchemy product in her hand seriously.

“This is a Tool for Linking Big Love! It’s the best device to deepen feelings between witches! It is…”

“Rejected!”

“Eh—!”

“The Alchemy Society is a respectable group. We do not sell such shameless things!”

“But you did sell nipple covers!” Jiang Cha retorted.

“That was a healing patch! And even if it was a nipple cover, it’s a legitimate witch utility. Not like this thing you have!”

“Oh…” Her pout looked hurt. She turned and walked back to her lab.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to set up a stall and sell it herself; it was that this product had almost no technical barrier. Without the Society’s ultra‑cheap raw materials supply and huge delivery network, it would be pirated in minutes on the open market.

Alchemy companies out there aren’t school clubs that worry much about reputation. If they want to, they could open a shell company and sell the same kind of cheeky gadgets; even the production lines wouldn’t need rebuilding.

And in a witch society where everyone has SP, would selling a “Love Link Tool” really damage reputation? That was debatable.

Of course, Jiang Cha cared about her reputation. She wasn’t eager to personally run a stall with this kind of item.

“Simple deviant route won’t do—then make something respectable…” she muttered.

Actually, she had ideas for “respectable” products too; she just didn’t want to put them out so early.

“Let me see… clear spider eyes, raw white crystal, brains of guardian bats, hmm, plus some Ice Crystal Grass.”

She intended to make a pair of glasses.

Though the witches had already played with many practical alchemy products, from the weird side you could still come up with interesting things.

This was Jiang Cha’s thinking.

She had been planning something like a self‑moving tendril before — c’mon, even the “Love Link Tool” got rejected, so that would only hurt her reputation worse.

So this glasses idea was her third option.

“Glasses? What does it do?”

Shi Lan had given up resisting how much this troublemaker could stir things up. Fortunately this time she wasn’t messing with something completely absurd.

The lab didn’t expect first‑year newbies to produce outstanding products; the veteran members had their own channels. This evaluation was mainly to stimulate their innovative spirit.

“This?” The girl’s expression was oddly calm, bored even, as she toyed with what looked like ordinary glasses—just simple black‑rimmed frames.

“Infused with mana to allow the wearer to focus on reading and ignore fatigue caused by infiltration. Use for thirty minutes; adjustable, but the maximum is one hour. Any longer and someone might literally study themselves to death, so I built a mana cut‑off physical safety limit.”

“Wait… what was that last part?”

Shi Lan didn’t pay much mind at first since Jiang Cha looked so unexcited about it. Until she heard “ignore fatigue caused by infiltration.”

That was big.

“This is the product description, here’s the formula and the cost estimate. I’ll write up its development potential later.”

Jiang Cha jumped down from the chair, threw over a piece of paper, then dashed to the rest area and grabbed a free strawberry cake from the desk.

Don’t be surprised there were crafts‑and‑retro modes everywhere in the Alchemy Society. Even if magic automata could make cakes, indulgent witches preferred something handmade! Cakes and tea only tasted right that way.

More variety that way too…

“Senior Qu Sinan, yes, I have a new product for you to take a look at.” Over there, Shi Lan actually wasn’t shocked; after coming back to her senses, she followed procedure to begin assessing product safety.

Focus‑Glasses had a rather wide market in the witch world.

Witches loved knowledge, loved studying, but they hated the fatigue that came from resisting infiltration. They were a pleasure‑seeking race; when lazy, they were really lazy. Only those under about fifty had vigorous enough energy to be always lively.

But even middle‑aged or older witches liked learning; society’s rapid pace meant most witches adopted lifelong learning.

Most ordinary witches only studied an hour a day — that happened nicely to fall within the range helped by the glasses, which Jiang Cha named the “Anti‑Fatigue Glasses.”

Which meant they could study for an hour wearing them, then go straight to bed in peaceful sleep—and the fatigue they had resisted might actually enhance sleep quality!

The key was that the cost was cheap enough, materials were mass‑produced.

There are ways to replicate its effect—potion, alchemy, magic—but those get expensive.

But being inexpensive was the basic advantage of any industrialized mass‑made product.

“I really didn’t expect that after being away just a few days, you’d already sit across from me talking business.” The girl pushed forward (using her chest to force a sense of authority), speaking to Jiang Cha.

Qu Sinan, the second person Jiang Cha woke up to see. One of the witches who knew pretty well how Jiang Cha got to where she was.

She of course knew that this little one’s career as a witch had just begun fewer than a week ago—but in that week, she’d already been praised in the Combat Society by her mentor, then turned into an alchemist, sat here before Qu Sinan, eating cake and waiting for her product share.

“To be precise: four days, twelve hours, thirty‑one minutes, and fifty‑eight seconds, Senior Sinan~” The girl propped her cheek with one hand, used the other to take a spoonful of cake and offered it to Qu Sinan, her smile playful and mischievous, like a little imp.

Sinan hesitated, then took the spoon of cake, put it lightly in her mouth, letting her tongue savor every bit of it, licking the spoon clean.

“Seems like you’re adapting well to witch life.” Qu Sinan said without changing expression, though there was a trace of approval in her voice.

“How do you two know each other?” Shi Lan asked, a bit confused, watching the two of them share a gentle, slightly flirty interaction. Her expression whether to speak up or stay silent hung on her lips.

The vice president of the club… Could it be she was betraying loyalty to sneak off and flirt with younger witches!?

“Don’t look at me. If Helen were here, she’d do worse.” Sinan shrugged, expression casual.

“Helen senior? Thank goodness she’s not here.”

Jiang Cha also murmured, partly teasing. That one senior who, when awake, crawled herself on top of Jiang Cha and used computer parts — yes, that one. She found her slightly frightening.

After all, flirting with other girls maybe just playful; if she did it, it was full‑on danger.

Jiang Cha was in no rush to let things go beyond fun for now.

“You’ll meet Helen later. Alright, now to business.”

Sinan glanced at Jiang Cha, the look… was a bit like someone enjoying a show from the sidelines.