7: Chapter 7 I think you need a gas stove

Zhang Mu never imagined that even after giving up on his postgraduate entrance exams, he still couldn't escape the fate of tinkering with experimental instruments.

Although it differed slightly from the mage course he had imagined, he still obediently followed Potter to familiarize himself with the potion-making process and identify herbs.

Potter told him that delaying the deterioration of lung cancer relied on these potions.

If they were truly effective, Zhang Mu would have plenty of spare time to study magic.

Stirring a bowl with a wooden stick, he wondered if the panel's resurrection function would be effective against lung cancer.

After deep thought, he didn't dare try it.

Resurrection came in many forms, such as directly changing bodies or rewinding the body's time.

If it were the latter, it meant he would be trapped in an eternal loop: cancer outbreak, death, returning to the previous second, cancer outbreak, death, repeating infinitely.

It would be equivalent to hell.

And the former might not necessarily provide a body cured of cancer.

He still had to rely on himself; the resurrection function could only be used as a final trump card, a last resort.

"Concentrate."

Potter reminded him neither lightly nor heavily: "Your magic talent is extraordinary, but that doesn't mean you will definitely become a high-level mage."

"Diligence and focus are also indispensable qualities for a mage."

"Understood, Mr. Potter." Potter wouldn't let him call him teacher, so he had to use a respectful title for now.

After stirring for a while longer, Potter picked up the bowl and placed it on an earthenware stove piled with coal.

Closing his eyes, without him striking a light, the coal spontaneously ignited.

Watching closely, Zhang Mu noticed he was using Mental Energy to control the size of the charcoal fire with great precision; the thick purple solution in the porcelain bowl boiled steadily.

After about an hour, Potter opened his eyes, a few beads of sweat appearing on his forehead.

"Phew..." He exhaled and wiped the sweat with the cuff of his mage robe. "Controlling the fire's intensity is a heavy drain on Mental Energy and control ability.

Even a pharmacist specializing in Mental Energy must stop and rest after three hours at most."

"Otherwise, excessive consumption of Mental Energy can easily lead to mistakes, causing the potion to be ruined."

As he spoke, he showed a self-satisfied smile: "Lucky kid, any other mage, even if they were willing to help, wouldn't have the ability to brew this Healing Potion."

Precisely controlling the fire's intensity—what's so hard about that?

Zhang Mu felt Potter needed a gas stove: "Mr. Potter, actually, controlling the fire's temperature is very simple. I have a..."

"What do you know? It looks simple, but you'll know where the difficulty lies when you brew it yourself. Drink it."

Potter picked up a smaller porcelain bowl and scooped out a full bowl.

Decisively taking it and gulping it down, Zhang Mu smacked his lips; the taste was barely acceptable.

"I have some things to handle. You go back first and come back tomorrow morning."

Without waiting for a reply, he directly kicked him out of the house and slammed the door with a "bang."

Standing in front of the door, Zhang Mu scratched his head.

Are mages' tempers all this eccentric?

Complaining in his heart, he planned to leave, but stopped just as he lifted his foot.

He suddenly remembered the panel said this world was a game world. Although it didn't look much like one, the panel's functions should follow game rules.

Generally, games have settings like 'cannot return to town while in combat state.'

He wondered if summoning the Portal was restricted.

Zhang Mu looked around and picked up a round wooden stick leaning against the neighbor's door.

He had a weapon; now he needed an enemy.

He looked around; the street was empty. In desperation, his gaze slowly fell on Big Yellow, who was lying on the steps.

Big Yellow seemed to sense something; its ears pricked up, its head snapped up, and its eyes stared at Zhang Mu.

"Thump—"

...

"Woof woof woof!"

Inside the house, on the second floor.

Potter was holding a marble-sized transparent crystal ball and was about to input mana when a dog's wild barking suddenly came from outside.

He pushed open the window and looked down; no one was there.

"Don't be noisy."

Closing the window, Potter lightly gripped the crystal. Mana slowly flowed in, and the crystal ball shimmered with a faint blue light. Then, a cold woman's voice rang out of thin air.

"Teacher Potter, how have you been lately?"

"Hahaha..." He laughed a few times. "Avril, how did you know I left the Royal City?"

"Not only do I know, but I'm almost there."

Potter was slightly stunned and asked in surprise, "What are you doing in this remote town?"

"Since Teacher is looking for treasure, I should naturally help. I'll arrive at the town in about three days."

Since she was already almost there, Potter didn't say anything to stop her. "I've searched all around the town and found nothing. It should be a rumor."

"Then when will Teacher return to the Royal Capital?"

"No rush for now. I met an interesting little fellow here."

"Let's not talk for now; I'll go out of town to look again."

"Okay, Teacher."

...

At home.

Zhang Mu put the wooden stick on the coffee table. This was the neighbor's item, and he had to return it tomorrow when he went back.

After testing, opening the Portal was not affected by 'combat.'

Good news; this meant if he had a conflict with the locals, he would be in an invincible position.

Taking his phone out of the inventory, Zhang Mu clicked on the contact list.

These days, because he had lung cancer, he was so depressed that he turned on airplane mode on his phone, not wanting to be disturbed.

He estimated his phone had been blown up with calls.

Don't misunderstand; Zhang Mu didn't have many friends, but for the few he had, the relationship was exceptionally good.

His silent disappearance must have made people very anxious.

"Eh?"

Zhang Mu turned off airplane mode and found that he still couldn't make calls. He checked and saw he had plenty of phone credit.

"Because of the game?"

Guessing, he went into the bedroom and took out a spare old-model phone, swapped the SIM card, and turned it on.

As soon as the old-model phone finished booting up, a call came in immediately.

Because he changed phones, the number wasn't saved, but he recognized the number on the screen at a glance.

Smiling, he pressed the green answer button: "Hello, Senior Brother, I..."

"Where the hell have you been these past few days!"

A roar burst out of the receiver, making Zhang Mu's ears ring. "Something happened to me, listen to my expla—"

"You didn't know to ask me for help when something happened?!"

The voice rose another notch, fully expressing the anger on the other end of the phone.

"Let's meet and talk. The usual spot."

After speaking, he immediately hung up, but the ringtone rang again.

This time the voice was much gentler.

"Xiao Mu?"

"Yes." Zhang Mu replied in a low voice, "Grandma, I've been on a business trip these past two days. The place I went was a bit remote and had no signal."

The elderly woman was the director of the orphanage where he stayed as a child, a kind and amiable grandmother.

She usually liked to move a chair and sit under the pear tree in the courtyard, squinting her eyes with a smile as she watched the children play together.

"Really?" Concern was hidden under the soft tone.

"Really."

Then, they chatted for a few more minutes. Finally, the director exhorted him that the weather was hot and he should be careful to keep his stomach covered at night so as not to catch a cold, then hung up the phone.

The old-model phone didn't ring again; he only had these two people who cared about him.

Zhang Mu went into the bedroom to change his clothes, tucked his phone away, and went out.

The phone with the game installed would be kept in the inventory from now on; he'd buy a new phone for daily payments and calls.

He also needed to buy a gas stove, a small one, to prevent Potter from questioning how he carried such a large object across the continent.

Having cleared up the tasks for the afternoon, Zhang Mu quickened his pace.