CHAPTER 50: CH 50: A DISTRACTIOIN- PART 3

Fenrir leaned back in his chair, massaging his temples as he glanced at the flood of system notifications.

He had just sent two Recovery Potions to Fredric as per their agreement—he still honored his contracts, after all—and then watched as the remaining five potions vanished from the market in seconds.

The system interface blinked with countless messages: buyers were angry, frustrated, and desperate.

Many of them hadn’t even had a chance to click "purchase" before the stock had disappeared.

Most of the complaints, however, weren’t about the potion’s quality—everyone who managed to buy one praised it as miraculous.

The real issue was supply.

People begged the elusive ’Mr. X’ to consider alternative selling methods.

The top suggestion? An auction system.

Fenrir considered it for a moment. It wasn’t a bad idea. Especially if he put a few on both sides.

He could drive prices even higher while reducing the hassle of direct listings.

More importantly, he happened to own the auction house system anonymously through a web of shell companies, which meant he’d save on fees and retain control.

That sealed the deal.

With a small grin tugging at the edge of his lips, Fenrir opened a burner social media account, verified it with his seller ID, and casually left a single comment under a trending post

[An auction might be a good idea. Stay tuned.]

The response was immediate.

The moment people saw the verified seller ID of ’X’, the platform exploded.

Comments flooded in by the thousands. Likes and reposts skyrocketed. Influencers, independent guilds, and even government-run channels joined in the frenzy.

Everyone wanted a piece of the mysterious alchemist.

Some begged for exclusive access, others demanded interviews, and a few tried to bait him with offers of sponsorships and research funding.

Fenrir, now staring wide-eyed at his screen, immediately activated every security setting available on the system.

His identity was still safe, but the sheer volume of interaction was overwhelming. He could feel his head pulsing with stress as the notifications refused to stop.

He hadn’t even written anything beyond that one line, yet half the world seemed to be on high alert now.

He sent out one final post for the night

[This account will only be used to announce auction dates and potion listings. Please stop sending messages. Thank you.]

It did little to slow the tide.

If anything, the brief message only stirred more curiosity.

Media outlets latched onto his account, experts analyzed the wording, and even unrelated celebrities began making guesses about ’X’s identity.

Fenrir groaned.

He hadn’t meant to stir up this much chaos. He just wanted to sell potions and make some money. Now it felt like he’d walked into a spotlight he never asked for.

"Why do people care so much about a single potion seller?"

He muttered under his breath. Still, somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew the answer: the world was changing, and when change came, people clung to anything that gave them an edge.

Meanwhile, across the city, a sleek office building glowed softly under the evening sky.

Inside, Mark Spencer—head of the Hunter’s Research Division—was pacing in front of a large holographic screen displaying news clips, market reactions, and a live feed of ’X’s verified post.

Nina, his second-in-command and a sharp tactician in her own right, leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms.

"So, that’s it. We missed our window. He’s gone public—well, as public as someone like him would go."

Mark cursed under his breath.

"We underestimated him. We should’ve made contact before his name became a global headline."

Nina raised an eyebrow.

"Assuming that he’d even talk to us."

"He would’ve. Everyone has a price, and someone that skilled must need resources. But now he doesn’t need anyone. The public is eating out of the palm of his hand. Governments will be too slow. If we want a chance to work with him—or at least monitor him—we have to act fast."

Mark insisted.

Nina tapped her pen against her tablet, eyes sharp.

"What’s the plan then?"

Mark’s gaze narrowed.

"We find him. We prioritize locating ’X’ above everything else. Get every analyst, every tracker, every AI system we have on this. I want to know the moment he so much as sneezes in public."

Nina let out a low whistle.

"A bit dramatic, don’t you think?"

"No. If even half the rumors about these potions are true, this guy could shift the balance of power in this world. And I don’t want to be on the losing side when that happens."

Mark said, shaking his head.

______

Julie Dane, the leader of the Secret Hunter Services, was chewing on her thumbnail again—something she only did when she was on the verge of snapping.

The sharp crack of her nail splitting echoed in the control room, and the agents sitting around her froze, eyes glued to their terminals, terrified of drawing her attention.

"How is the potion analysis going?"

She asked, her voice tight and low, the calm before a storm.

A bespectacled analyst looked up from his screen, swallowing hard.

"Ma’am, we’ve run the samples through over fifty variations of alchemy simulations and advanced molecular mana-mapping. We’ve tried boiling, freezing, evaporating, isolating the ingredients—none of it makes sense. The composition is... stable but unreadable. It’s like the potion was made with a different set of rules."

Julie slammed her hand against the armrest.

"You mean to tell me you have the potions in your hands, and you still can’t figure them out?"

Another researcher flinched.

"It’s like trying to reverse-engineer a language we’ve never heard before. It heals almost instantly. Even high-tier Recovery Potions don’t match it, not at this purity level. Heck, they’re barley functional."

Julie cursed under her breath.

"If we don’t crack this soon, we’ll be the biggest joke in the industry. The whole world’s talking about Mr. ’X,’ and we’re sitting here like helpless rookies."

She stood abruptly.

"Double the team. I want every analysis method cross-checked. I don’t care if you have to burn mana for a week straight—find out what’s inside that potion."

"Yes, Ma’am!"

Meanwhile, in her luxurious high-rise apartment, Lamia Vincent stood silently in front of her window, watching the evening city lights flicker like stars beneath her feet.

She was the head of Vincent Trading and once held the top spot in the auction scene—until a mysterious competitor came out of nowhere and started stealing her business.

That competitor had no name, no face. Only results.

Now, the whole world buzzed about a mysterious seller named ’X,’ whose potions were rewriting the very laws of commerce and alchemy.

Lamia’s amber eyes narrowed.

"He came out of nowhere... just like back then."

She muttered to herself.

She moved to her desk and pulled out an old report—the one where her most profitable auction had been hijacked, and a mysterious new auctioneer stole the winning bid with overwhelming influence.

No one had been able to trace it. At the time, she’d let it go, thinking it was a fluke.

But this... this was no coincidence.

Her instincts, honed from years of ruling the cutthroat world of commerce, screamed at her now.

The man who had stolen her auction house and this so-called Mr. ’X’—they were the same person.

Lamia sat down, a wicked smile forming on her lips.

"So you’re back... Let’s see how long you can keep hiding."