The southeastern side of the Liusu Mountains faces the sea, while the northwest faces inland. The mountains are high and steep, firmly blocking the moist sea breeze on the southern slopes, where the vegetation is lush. The narrow strip of plain near the coast is especially rich in resources and teeming with magical beasts. In contrast, the inland area, deprived of the sea breeze’s nourishment, is arid all year round, forming a small desert region. Although the desert is dry, it produces a kind of plump sandworm called the fat worm. On the continent, one kilogram of fresh, live fat worms can sell for three gold coins, making it a delicacy on noble tables.

At first, this desert had no name, but as the value of the fat worms soared, it came to be known as the Fat Worm Desert.

With magical beasts to the south and fat worms to the north, the Liusu Mountains quickly became a paradise for adventurers. On the northern slopes of the Liusu Mountains, a small town gradually formed. Because there were so many adventurers, who often fought fiercely over the spoils from the mountains, the town’s merchants formed an alliance, elected a president, and arbitrated various disputes.

After several centuries of development, the town grew increasingly prosperous. The president of the merchants’ guild, George Ferguson, became ever more ambitious. Finally, a hundred years ago, he elevated the town to city status and named it Wangshan City. He built massive stone walls, produced large quantities of weapons and armor, purchased warhorses, formed an army, and established tax officials to collect miscellaneous taxes. He also used a large amount of gold to bribe the Grand Duke of the Selkin Duchy—one of the three major duchies outside the Fat Worm Desert—and obtained a hereditary count’s title from the Grand Duke.

When William Graham crossed the Liusu Mountains and arrived at the foot of this desert city called “Wangshan City,” the title of Count of Wangshan had already been passed down for two generations. The current Count of Wangshan was the grandson of the original president, Walter Ferguson.

The Feilkinson family had ruled Wangshan City for a century. The entrance tax alone, paid by passing adventurers each year, made them fabulously wealthy. Although they relied on the protection of the Grand Duke of Selkin and had to pay an annual “alliance tax” of a million gold coins, over the course of a hundred years, the Feilkinson family still accumulated vast wealth. This obscure border city and its little-known Feilkinson family had amassed enough fortune to rank among the continent’s top hundred.

William Graham had already changed into a loose, cloak-like alchemist’s robe, with his badge hanging from it, making him look less out of place in this world. So the soldiers at the city gate didn’t give him any trouble, merely pointing to a magical box nearby: “Two gold coins for the entrance tax.”

That magical box could only be opened by the count himself. If anyone else tried to force it open and take the gold coins inside, a self-destruct spell would activate, blowing up both the box and the would-be thief.

William Graham glanced sideways—goodness, the box was more than half a person tall and over two people long, mounted on a sturdy flatbed cart, with two magical beasts as strong as rhinos hitched to it. William Graham hadn’t expected that the entrance tax for Wangshan City would require such a large box, which showed just how many adventurers came here seeking their fortune.

The guard saw him hesitate, beckoned with a finger, and said in a low voice, “We can let you in privately for just one gold coin—and you don’t have to put it in the box.”

William Graham was a little surprised. He looked up and saw that while he was talking to this guard, the other guards were all looking away, as if they had a tacit understanding.

William Graham smiled, slipped a gold coin into the guard’s hand, and the guard waved him through the gate.

As soon as William Graham left, a group of soldiers gathered around. “Heh, I knew alchemists had money. Little Dick, you’re smart—an entrance tax that’s supposed to be one silver coin, you raised it to two gold coins with a single word, and that sucker actually handed over a gold coin without a fuss…”

After being labeled a sucker, William Graham mentally awarded the city lord the Wangshan City Best Sucker Award: thinking that putting a box at the gate that only he could open would prevent his subordinates from embezzling. In fact, if the box were slightly modified, with a surveillance spell added—combining two types of magic into one magical item—it would be easy to monitor his subordinates and keep the city lord’s gold coins from ending up in the soldiers’ pockets.

However, most alchemists only know how to engrave one magic circle on an item. To overlay two or more magic circles requires at least an eighth-level alchemist. Of course, a monster like William Graham can’t be measured by common standards.

When he left, Benjamin Franklin had given him a bag of gold coins. Though it was just one bag, it contained over two hundred coins—enough to last him for a while.

Looking up, he realized he had unknowingly arrived at the entrance of a shop. He looked up at the sign: Uncle Hans Alchemy Shop. William Graham was delighted and hurried inside. “Boss, do you have Black Marsh Nine-Seed Grass, Split-Tooth Ichthyosaur Eyes, or Rhino-Headed Berserk Serpent Gallbladders?”

Behind the counter stood a tall, thin elderly human. William Graham spoke with a strong, resonant voice, and as soon as Old Hans heard him, he was so startled that he hurried out from behind the counter and pushed William Graham out the door. “Sir, you’d better try the big cities on the continent. This is just Wangshan City—legendary alchemical materials like those are impossible to find in a small city like this.”