Chapter 33 — One Hundred Thousand! That’s a hundred thousand!!

“‘The production and distribution of the Focus Glasses will be handled entirely by the society. You invest via the formula, upgrade the product as needed, and in the end you’ll receive 15% of the final product’s profits.’”

Qu Sinan thought for a moment, then expertly drafted the contract and slid it over to Jiang Cha.

Witches didn’t like human‑style contracts. Black and white printed agreements might have legal backing, but there was too much room for loopholes and scheming.

So Qu Sinan wrote a demon contract—literally, a contract invented by demons.

The meaning was literal: a demon’s contract. Once signed, its terms enforce themselves. If either party violates it, their spiritual essence gets “infested” by the demon.

This was a branch of mystic magic—textual magic. It wasn’t the kind of “say it and it happens” nonsense. Mystic magic’s essence was to use mana to build a “god” that doesn’t exist, channel through that god (which is just a mana converter) to produce the intended effect.

That’s the principle behind demon contracts: the real demonic powers in hell had long been decimated by witches. The surviving three demon dukes wouldn’t dare meddle with contracts made by these wild witches.

Jiang Cha’s innate magic, Information Gathering, worked on a similar principle—but even more mysterious. The “god” it constructs had no substance, no form—a communication with something called “wisdom.” No witch has yet figured out what it truly is. This is why this powerful ability has never been fully developed further.

“Such generous terms? There’s no trick, right, Senior Sinan~”

Jiang Cha studied the contract carefully, raising her brows in surprise. The society would take charge of everything: early production, distribution, securing material sources, building factories. She bore no cost. The only obligation was to upgrade or improve the formula once a year. If she could not, the society would do it—but her share would drop by 5% that year.

In other words, once she signed, she could passively collect 10% of the profits from Focus Glasses forever, without lifting a finger. The only limitation was that she wasn’t allowed to sell or license its future formula elsewhere.

These terms were as favorable as they could be.

“The Alchemy Society won’t screw its own members. We’re a club, not a corporation. Making money is just so we can keep operating properly,” Qu Sinan said.

Witches were strange beings. They treated money like life itself—every stage of a witch’s growth required money. Yet in many respects, they were extremely rule‑bound. Where there were no constraints, they could act without restraint (they’d even destroy planets for sport). But in witch society, they adhered strictly to rules.

The Alchemy Society, unlike the Combat Club which relies solely on tournament prizes or academy funding, had members handling sums in the tens or hundreds of millions. Yet no embezzlement had ever been reported.

Not totally none, rumors said the Alchemy Society’s president sometimes used public funds to buy a small cake when broke, then later reimbursed it. Contradictory but true.

For Jiang Cha, this was very good news.

“Then… let’s have a pleasant cooperation?”

After confirming the contract was fine, she signed with her mana signature.

The demon contract took effect.

In Jiang Cha’s sense, a subtle shackle wrapped around her spiritual essence; any breach would trigger it. If she insisted on violating the contract, it would transform into a bomb and corrupt her spirit. The shackle’s force wasn’t overwhelming—but enough to bind a witch of less than sage rank.

“Pleasant cooperation… anything else you need? As a genius member, we can tilt resources your way—more than what the Combat Club gets,” Qu Sinan teased lightly, blinking.

“You are responsible, Senior Sinan,” the girl replied, smiling gently. “But I currently have nothing I need… if anything… I hope the profits roll in soon?”

“To start, I’ll allocate you one hundred thousand witch gold as a budget. You can be reimbursed from product profits later,” Qu Sinan said with generous flair.

Jiang Cha nearly spit out her tea. One hundred thousand! That was an astonishment.

Given the Alchemy Society’s product list, that was tantamount to lending her that full sum to spend—with internal discounts too.

One hundred thousand! That was one percent of a resource planet’s value! (Lina held one in her hand, monied at 10 million per tradeable rate.)

“Of course, if the academy rules allowed, I’d just give you cash. But… you know, tuition and magical purchases you must earn yourself. The society only provides raw materials. Half a year later, you’ll receive your first profit share—until then, focus on learning.”

“I look forward to your future products. Well then, let’s conclude today’s business.”

Witches worked fast. Even though the Alchemy Society was just a club, they inherited that efficiency. Soon three external alchemists were attempting to replicate Jiang Cha’s product for safety testing. Small‑scale production would begin by month’s end.

“How do you feel?” Shi Lan asked teasingly, after Qu Sinan tucked away the contract and left.

“Kind of bewildered…” Jiang Cha’s gaze drifted out the window at the sunlit witch campus. “It feels like I just lost my objective all of a sudden.”

“You’ve been set up,” Shi Lan teased, tapping Jiang Cha on the head.

“Eh hey~ Then I’ll go practice more, okay?” The girl flicked aside, her momentary confusion gone, and bounced toward the alchemy lab.

---

One hundred thousand was indeed a lot. But honestly, not astronomical. Low‑tier materials were cheap; a few hundred witch gold would buy a pile. But as tier and rarity increase, price multiplies fivefold, tenfold. One hundred thousand was just startup capital in mid‑tier alchemy.

Lina’s full gear cost millions! Heqin’s intermediate magical automaton cost thousands at a time.

Of course, Jiang Cha’s income would be long term. One hundred thousand was plenty for her as a lower‑tier alchemist to splurge.

Once funding was settled, the girl’s follow‑up work had a crystal clear target:

—Improve her alchemy skill.

To reiterate: the four sub‑professions and enchantment craft were all practical sciences, essentially artisan work. Theories are useless without doing. The complex techniques must be practiced repeatedly to gain familiarity.

Thus she would spend both money and time.

Her innate magic gave her precision in muscle control and mana manipulation, helping her greatly. Without that, even a novice alchemist might struggle to even refine raw materials, let alone produce a product.

She had confidence to pursue all four sub‑professions—backed by her natural “mod” bonus. High calculation ability let her precisely compute material ratios; her precise control let her raise proficiency faster than most. Her sharp, rational mind ensured once she made a mistake, she would never repeat it.

In the domain of learning secondary professions, she combined the strengths of a robot and a witch—maximizing her proficiency gain.

---

“Cha Bao, have you been in the lab all day?”

“Mm-hmm.” Jiang Cha, slightly fatigued, casually tossed a small contraption to Lina, then flopped onto the sofa, leaning on the lap of the big Yamato Fuyuko.

“A gift! My first alchemy creation.”

“…” Lina looked at the object with a big question mark above her head. “What is this?”

“A Love Link Device~ I think Lina, you’ll use one sooner or later.”

“Who gives a roommate that kind of gift!?”

Lina, lacking practical experience, only then recognized the jade‑like double‑cylinder in her hands, and screamed angrily. Jiang Cha ignored her and simply smiled, handing something else to Heqin.

“Heqin~ I made this especially for you~”

“Thanks…” Heqin forced out a tensed thank you. Jiang Cha smiled proudly.

“But… wait, is there something weird about these glasses? Like, maybe they let you see through things?”

“They help resist fatigue due to infiltration if you wear them while studying,” Jiang Cha’s face remained pure and innocent, blinking expectantly, hoping she’d try it out.

“Why is my gift always that kind of thing!?” Lina jumped up on the spot and flung herself at Jiang Cha.

The adorable blond girl pinned the dark‑haired, red‑eyed pretty girl, and together they sank to Yamato Fuyuko’s lap, forming a pile of three — which also buried any spark of sentiment Heqin felt deep down.

“Because it just felt like Lina suits this device.”

“I’ll wear it and destroy you for giving me this crap!”

“Huh? When I designed it I didn’t plan for someone under 1.4 meters — you might rupture your uterus, though?”

“Damn you, Cha Bao!” Lina roared.

“Muahahaha haha~ don’t tickle me!”

duang duang — Two crisp clangs interrupted their lewd banter. Heqin, cheeks red, stood and spun away. “I’m going back to my room!”

“Mommy Qin is angry. It’s all your fault, Lina,” Jiang Cha said, glancing at Lina who clasped her head, and whirled the blame.

“It wouldn’t be so bad if your gift didn’t come with… problems! Why do I feel Qin Bao hit you more gently than when I hit myself?”

“Maybe it’s a trick of the mind?”

“…”