Gustavo Fring gave serious thought to Anbaixiu's proposal.
Truth be told, there were no real technical hurdles in this custom batch of "undead" Anbaixiu had ordered, because all Anbaixiu had commissioned were the outer shells.
The true core lay in Anbaixiu's Simulated Soul technique and his unique ability to transmute inorganic matter into corpse-grade remains.
Without those two core elements, what Gustavo Fring manufactured was nothing more than an ordinary empty husk—the only component of any value being the miniature jet engine.
Yet lacking a method of remote control, the utility of such a jet engine fell short of even an ordinary enchanted arrow.
What a pity that despite all its advancements to this day, alchemy had never achieved low-cost, long-distance remote control.
Take golem puppet legions, for instance: if an operator wished to exercise active control, the range could not exceed thirty meters at most. The ubiquitous magical elements severely interfered with such remote links, making thirty meters an absolute hard ceiling that no one had yet managed to surpass.
Once a golem puppet was beyond that distance from its user, it could only execute its preprogrammed instructions.
Otherwise, that legendary alchemist back then would not have needed to ride his own golem puppet into combat against Anbaixiu; an alchemist's proper style would have been to hide safely on the sidelines and steer it from afar.
As for autonomous routines for golem puppets, alchemists who delved into that field over the years had been far too few, and the rare dabbler was hardly a genius, leaving the discipline stagnant.
Anbaixiu's creations, however, were entirely different. His so-called "remote control" was simply issuing mental commands to his undead subordinates.
Without prejudice, it was not remote control at all—it was textbook necromancer tradecraft: flooding the field with a swarm of skeletons and having them mindlessly blow themselves up.
It was just that his skeletons looked nothing like anyone else's.
Alchemy was always like that: a breakthrough in a single technique often triggered a chain reaction. When the alchemist who invented the mana refining furnace turned alchemy from small-workshop craft into large-scale factory production, the art had advanced to its next chapter.
Now, Anbaixiu seemed poised on the verge of something similar. He was pushing alchemy in a completely new direction; perhaps in the near future, undead alchemy would become an official discipline in the study of alchemy.
Still, did that mean he should just agree to Anbaixiu's terms?
The shipping costs Anbaixiu spoke of were no small sum. To Gustavo Fring at present, it was a colossal expense. If he had to pay out of his own pocket, even his ongoing business ventures would take a hit.
Yet Anbaixiu's pitch was undeniably enticing. If the footage of that chaotic underwater battle could be packaged into an advertisement, it would certainly draw in a flood of paying clients.
Nowadays, anyone with half a brain could see that the continent was teetering on instability. The banishment of the Kingdom of the Unholy Hymn was not an end, but the prelude to turmoil.
Weapons of war were bound to find an eager market.
Wait. The market for weapons of war?
Gustavo Fring suddenly sensed something was amiss. He blurted out, "You're trying to use me to hawk your undead military units, aren't you?"
Anbaixiu did not bother hiding it at all. "What's wrong with that? You're one of the manufacturers. The better my undead sell, the more money you make. Isn't this a win-win?"
"No, wait a minute! You already covered the manufacturing cost of these undead shells by trading the miniature jet engine schematics. Now I have to cover the shipping, act as your brand ambassador, sell your undead units for you, and then give *you* a cut of the profits? You haven't spent a single gold coin from start to finish on this entire venture! You're treating me like a slave!"
Gustavo Fring broke into a cold sweat; the realization had only just hit him.
Anbaixiu had not paid a single copper to acquire a vast force of undead units, while Gustavo Fring, desperate to recoup his losses, would bust his back advertising them in hopes of seeing a return.
What a terrifying trap! The sheer audacity of this lich conning something from nothing was downright hair-raising. The thought sent a chill straight down Fring's spine.
Anbaixiu spoke soothingly: "Listen to yourself—why make such a fuss? Does a Simulated Soul cost nothing? Does transmuting materials cost nothing? If not for the sake of our old friendship, would I have come to you for a partnership? Flynn, since when did you develop persecutory delusions? Search your conscience: does my product have a market or not? Can it make money or not?"
"It can! But you're still taking the lion's share—unless you share the techniques for Simulated Souls and material transmutation with me!" Gustavo Fring yelled.
Anbaixiu shook his head. "You're dreaming. That comes from legendary boons. How am I supposed to share that?"
"I don't believe you! At least one of them isn't your legendary boon! It's the windfall you traded the City of Alchemy to a deity for! That windfall rightfully belongs partly to me!"
Gustavo Fring had sharp eyes; he had long deduced that Anbaixiu had struck a deal with the God of Alchemy. It was from that point onward that the lich had skyrocketed in fortune, growing ever more powerful and raking in gold by the cartload.
Fring could not stomach it. All those centuries of blood and sweat poured into the City of Alchemy, only for this lich to reap every single reward! Whenever the thought crossed his mind, it burned like a wildfire in his chest.
Anbaixiu merely shook his head. "You, my friend, are always too greedy and think too much. Tell you what—let me think it over."
Anbaixiu terminated the connection through the magic mirror, stroked his chin in thought for a moment, and pulled out the artifact gold coin capable of transmuting properties.
"Teacher, you there? I need a hand with something," Anbaixiu hollered at the coin with utter irreverence.
A moment later, the phantom image of the God of Alchemy materialized, smiling. "My dearest student, who are you looking to fleece this time?"
Anbaixiu chuckled. "Teacher, has your divine power grown stronger again?"
The God of Alchemy beamed with evident delight. "Heh-heh, it's largely thanks to you. Quite a few people have finally realized that alchemy isn't just about bottles and jars."
"Wonderful! As it happens, I've run into someone disrespectful to the God of Alchemy. I was just hoping to consult with you, Teacher, on how to fleece him out of a fortune... No, I mean, how to let him contribute to the development of alchemy."
"My dear student, just spit it out. As if I don't know what kind of person you are."
The God of Alchemy saw right through Anbaixiu's game without hesitation, yet He clearly had no intention of turning him down.
Anbaixiu knew there was no need to hide anything from Old Pete. He got straight to the point: "Can the ability of this gold coin be altered so that it can only transmute other materials into corpse-grade remains?"
"Strengthening its effects would be difficult, but diminishing them is trivial—a simple seal will do," the God of Alchemy replied.
"Can it be restored later?" Anbaixiu asked.
"Restoring it to its original function is no trouble at all. But why would you want to weaken an artifact's power?" the God of Alchemy asked with curiosity.
"I intend to sell this thing to Gustavo Fring, but I can't let him use it for anything else. It must only provide me with a steady stream of undead alchemy materials. Oh, and right now the conversion costs me a certain amount; when Gustavo Fring uses it... well, Teacher, you understand. A slight bump in usage cost counts as weakening the artifact, not strengthening it, right?"
The God of Alchemy smiled. "A thirty-seventy split."
Anbaixiu protested at once: "Now that's out of line! You're the God of Alchemy—are you really hurting for gold? Can't you literally turn stone to gold?"
Anbaixiu's original plan was to have the God of Alchemy double the conversion cost and funnel all the excess gold straight to him. That way, he wouldn't just swindle Gustavo Fring out of a mountain of coin now—he could keep bleeding him dry indefinitely.
The God of Alchemy explained, "Rules are rules. Deities cannot meddle in the mortal realm at will, as you well know. Gold is of little practical use to me, but not entirely useless either. Only when a sufficient price is paid will Ao refrain from slapping your teacher all the way into Hell. Understand?"
Anbaixiu scoffed sourly. "I don't buy it. Why should a middleman handling fee cost thirty percent?"
To his surprise, the God of Alchemy said, "You misunderstand. The seventy percent is *mine*!"
"You might as well rob me blind!" Anbaixiu fumed.
After all the hard work wrangling a fat sheep into the pen, why should someone else take seventy percent?!
Yet the God of Alchemy stood firm on the thirty-seventy split, refusing to budge an inch. Every protest was met with the same answer: Ao's rules.
Left with no recourse, Anbaixiu could only grit his teeth. "When I achieve godhood, I'll be sure to ask Ao personally whether such a rule actually exists!"
The God of Alchemy chuckled merrily. "Then you'd better hurry up. Here's a tip: the elves have already gone to war with Lolth, and the fighting is fierce. Lolth is no match for them and is scurrying everywhere to hide. The fallout of this divine war will soon spill over into the mortal realm. Deities associated with war won't pass up a chance to bolster their divine power; they will actively instigate mortal conflicts. You'd best be prepared. As for the gold, rest easy: I'll double the price markup, so your thirty percent turns into sixty percent. Satisfied now?"
Anbaixiu was filled with disdain. Did the god take him for a fool? No matter how much the price went up, thirty percent was still thirty percent!
Sensing Anbaixiu's irritation, the God of Alchemy consoled him, "Don't worry. You know gold is of little use to me. In taking this cut, aside from navigating Ao's restrictions, I can also use the money to secure some benefits for you."
"What benefits?" Anbaixiu asked curiously.
"To open a door for you. You know Waukeen, the Goddess of Wealth, don't you?" the God of Alchemy asked.
"I pray to Her every day, though sadly I've never received a response," Anbaixiu lamented.
The God of Alchemy said, "She has actually kept an eye on you for a long time. There is no one in this world who knows how to make money quite like you. By all rights, you should have become Waukeen's chosen long ago. Care to guess why there's been no reaction so far?"
"Could you just tell me straight? How could a mere mortal like me guess the ways of the gods? Perhaps the goddess got tangled up in some secret matter beyond mortal comprehension?"
Instead of explaining, the God of Alchemy merely played along with Anbaixiu's words: "Quite right—cast aside that curiosity. In any case, your teacher will help you resolve this issue. In the past, I couldn't manage it, but now, if you continue expanding the influence of alchemy, I might just be able to pull it off."
Anbaixiu pondered for a long time before saying, "Teacher, let's only double the price after all, to leave Gustavo Fring a little profit margin. Relying on me alone would make the development of alchemy far too slow."
Between a bit of pocket change and becoming the chosen of the Goddess of Wealth, Anbaixiu knew very well which carried more weight.
*Sigh.* Anbaixiu felt he truly was far too helpful and far too generous. Taking a loss this time meant he would simply have to make it up somewhere else!
Chapter 436