Chapter 9: Saponification

  The rhythmic rasp, rasp, rasp of stone against steel filled the small alleyway behind the Blacksmith’s forge.

  Yuta sat on a wooden crate, his Broken Skinning Knife held at a precise twenty-degree angle against the Rough Whetstone he had just purchased.

  He had spent 15 Copper on the stone. It was a steep investment—more than seventy percent of his total capital—leaving him with just 6 Copper. But as he watched the dull, chipped edge of the blade slowly gleam with a new, silver line, he knew it was necessary.

  "Friction removes material," Yuta murmured, wetting the stone with a splash of water from his flask. "But it refines the geometry."

  He tested the edge with his thumb. It wasn't a razor yet, but it snagged the ridges of his fingerprint. It was sharp enough to cut, not tear.

  He sheathed the knife. It was time to return to the source.

  The Western Woods were beginning to darken as the in-game afternoon transitioned to evening. The shadows of the pine trees stretched long and thin, like skeletal fingers reaching across the mossy floor.

  Yuta moved with practiced silence. He wasn't a Ranger with a stealth skill; he was just a guy who calculated where not to step.

  He found a patch of Sweet-Berries near a rotting stump. He harvested them. Then, he located the Widow’s Nettle.

  He repeated the process from the day before: grinding the berries and the nettle in his chipped mortar to create the Sedative Bait. It was faster this time. His hands knew the motion. The "muscle memory" of his avatar was syncing with his own intent.

  He found a clearing. He placed the bait. He climbed a tree.

  Ten minutes later, a Young Iron-Hoof Stag wandered in. It ate the bait. It staggered. It fell.

  Yuta dropped from the tree.

  This time, the kill was cleaner. One swift motion to the neck. The sharpened knife didn't tear; it severed.

  SHING.

  The stag didn't bleed out. It shattered into a brilliant cloud of blue data particles. The sparkles faded instantly, leaving a cluster of glowing items hovering above the grass.

  Target Eliminated.

  Critical Kill!

  Experience Gained: 25.

  Yuta knelt by the loot. He picked up the items.

  "Now," Yuta said, inspecting the haul. "Let's see the difference."

  Yesterday, with the dull knife, he received Poor Quality Hide. Today, the system rewarded his precision.

  Item Acquired: Stag Hide (Rank F+).

  Description: A clean, unblemished hide. High crafting value.

  "F-plus," Yuta nodded. "The sharp blade registered a clean cut."

  But there was something else. A new item that hadn't dropped yesterday. Because he hadn't mangled the carcass with a dull blade, the system calculated a higher yield.

  Item Acquired: Animal Fat (Material).

  Quantity: 2 lbs.

  Description: Pristine lipid tissue preserved by a clean kill.

  "Perfect," Yuta whispered. "Physics dictates the drop rates."

  He harvested the meat (2x Venison) and the antlers. His inventory was filling up, but the Rough Leather Pouch gave him just enough breathing room.

  He didn't stop at one. He had enough bait for a second run.

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  By the time the moon rose high over Riverwood, Yuta had harvested two stags. He had 4 lbs of fat, 2 hides, 4 slabs of meat, and 2 sets of antlers.

  He walked back to the village, his footsteps heavy but purposeful.

  The village square was illuminated by the central bonfire. Players were gathered around, roasting food, boasting about their stats, or trying to form parties for the night raids.

  Yuta ignored them. He walked to the edge of the fire pit, where a few discarded clay pots lay scattered—debris left by players who had leveled up their Cooking skill and tossed their starter gear.

  He picked up a Cracked Clay Pot. It was garbage loot, worthless to a vendor.

  He cleaned it out with water from his flask. Then, he placed it on a smaller, separate fire ring near the edge of the pit.

  He opened his pouch and took out the Blacksmith’s Ash.

  "Step one," Yuta whispered. "Leaching."

  He poured the ash into the pot and added water. He stirred it with a stick. The water turned a murky, dark gray. He let it simmer. The heat helped dissolve the potassium carbonate from the wood ash into the water.

  He waited until the mixture reduced, carefully scooping out the floating charcoal bits with a piece of bark. What remained was a caustic, slippery liquid.

  Lye water.

  "Step two," he said, taking out the Animal Fat.

  He dropped the white chunks of fat into the bubbling lye.

  The smell was... distinct. It wasn't the savory smell of roasting meat. It was acrid, sharp, and chemical. It smelled like a laundry house.

  A nearby player, wearing the blue robes of a spellcaster, wrinkled his nose. "Ugh, what are you cooking, dude? Rotten eggs?"

  Yuta didn't look up. "Science."

  He kept stirring. The chemistry engine of Elixir Online was robust. It recognized the molecular interaction. The heat broke down the triglycerides in the fat. The lye reacted with the fatty acids.

  The mixture began to thicken. It turned from a greasy liquid into a pale, opaque sludge. It bubbled sluggishly, like volcanic mud.

  System Alert: Crafting...

  Alchemy Skill Detected.

  Progress: 40%... 60%...

  Yuta wiped sweat from his brow. His Stamina was draining from the continuous stirring action, but he couldn't stop. If he stopped, the emulsion would break.

  "Come on," he hissed. "Trace, trace, trace."

  The mixture reached the "trace" stage—where the trail of the stick remained visible on the surface.

  He pulled the pot off the fire. He didn't have molds, so he poured the thick, hot sludge onto a flat, clean stone near the fountain to cool.

  He waited.

  The cooling process took twenty minutes. The sludge hardened. It turned into a waxy, grayish-white block.

  Yuta picked it up. It was still warm. It felt greasy but firm.

  Item Created.

  Analyzing...

  Item: Rough Ash Soap (Rank F).

  Type: Consumable / Utility.

  Description: A crude cleaning agent made from rendered fat and wood ash. Highly alkaline.

  Effect: Removes "Grimy," "Bloodstained," and "Oily" debuffs from armor and clothing. Restores cosmetic appearance of gear. Neutralizes weak surface acids.

  Durability: 5/5 Uses.

  Yuta let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding.

  "It worked."

  He looked at his own tunic. It was a disaster—stained with soot, deer blood, and mud. He looked like a beggar.

  He took the bar of soap and walked to the fountain. He wet the fabric and rubbed the gray bar against the stains.

  Lather.

  Foam appeared. Dirty, gray bubbles that lifted the grime right out of the digital fibers. He scrubbed, rinsed, and scrubbed again.

  When he stood up, his Novice Tunic wasn't just clean; it looked brand new. The colors were vibrant again. The bloodstains were gone.

  System Alert: Status Cleared: Grimy.

  Yuta looked at his reflection in the water. He didn't look like a high-level hero yet. But he looked professional. He looked like someone who respected his tools.

  He had 4 lbs of fat. He had used 1 lb. He had plenty of ash.

  He cut the large block of soap into five smaller bars using his knife.

  "Five bars per pound," Yuta calculated. "I can make twenty bars tonight."

  He looked around the square. The high-level players were returning from the dungeons. Their armor was caked in monster slime, mud, and black blood. They looked heroic, yes, but they also looked filthy.

  Yuta saw the Ranger from earlier—Hawkeye. He was sitting on a bench, trying to wipe slime off his enchanted bow with a rag, but he was just smearing it around.

  Yuta picked up one of the fresh bars of soap. He walked over.

  "Rough night?" Yuta asked.

  Hawkeye looked up. He saw the same player from the fountain, but now the player was spotless. His tunic was bright. His face was clean.

  "Yeah," Hawkeye grunted. "Slime boss. This stuff doesn't come off. It's acidic. It's eating my durability."

  Yuta held out the gray bar.

  "Try this."

  Hawkeye looked at the soap. "What is it?"

  "Ash soap," Yuta said. "It neutralizes the acid. Cleans the pores of the leather."

  Hawkeye took it. He dipped his rag in the fountain, rubbed the soap on it to build a lather, and wiped his bow.

  The green slime dissolved instantly. The wood of the bow gleamed.

  System Alert (Hawkeye's View): Acid Residue Removed. Durability decay stopped.

  Hawkeye stared at the bow. Then he looked at Yuta.

  "How much?"

  Yuta smiled. He had spent 15 Copper on a whetstone. He had hunted for hours. He had inhaled lye fumes.

  "5 Copper a bar," Yuta said. "Five uses per bar."

  "I'll take five," Hawkeye said, opening his trade window without hesitation. "And my guildmates are going to want some too."

  Transaction Complete.

  Received: 25 Copper.

  Yuta walked back to his clay pot.

  He had started the night with 21 Copper.

  He spent 15 on the whetstone. (Balance: 6).

  He made 25 just now.

  Current Funds: 31 Copper.

  And he still had 3 lbs of fat left.

  He sat down by the fire and began to stir the next batch. The rhythm of the spoon against the clay pot was the sound of industry.

  "Saponification," Yuta whispered to the bubbling lye. "Hydrolysis of esters."

  The stars shone brightly above him. For the first time, he wasn't just surviving the game. He was solving it.