I was assigned again to inventory duty, carefully counting the stocks to ensure everything was in order. Nothing unusual seemed to be happening so far. Caden was with me, checking the vials alongside me.
"Anything unusual?" he asked as he scanned the shelves.
I shook my head. "Seems normal to me."
Just then, the door burst open, and Arthur rushed in with a look of urgency.
"Hey, does anyone know how to mix vials?" he asked, holding up two small bottles.
I raised an eyebrow. "What kind of mix are you talking about?"
"I have a patient who needs a combination of Eluvar and Vitlarin," Arthur explained. 
"But I'm not too sure about the right way to mix them. I really don't want to make a mistake.
"Caden and I exchanged a quick glance. "Eluvar and Vitlarin together? That's a tricky combo," Caden said. 
"You have to be careful with the timing and dosage." Caden added. 
"It's true, but I can help you with that. I've studied the process."
The patient must be in a serious condition if Eluvar is needed. Eluvar helps with recovery from severe illness or major surgery. Vitlarin, on the other hand, boosts energy and overall physical health.
When mixed, these two can speed up both internal healing and physical recovery, helping the patient get better faster.
Arthur looked relieved as I stepped forward to assist. We moved to the small workspace within the inventory room, and I started preparing the mixture, carefully measuring the right amounts.
We used protective gear, including eye and mouth masks and sterile gloves. I assisted Arthur in measuring the vials.
"How do you know these complex measurements?" he asked as he handed me a vial.
I paused for a moment. "I have experience," I said, carefully mixing Eluvar with Vitlarin. As the mixture changed color, I slowly shook the vial in circles.
"You mean you've done this before?" he asked.
I nodded. "Here, add half a teaspoon of this powder," I instructed.
He followed my directions and then heated the mixture over a Bunsen burner to melt it quickly.
"These are complex medications," he remarked.
"Maybe the professor expects us to be good at this. I know the ingredients, but I’m not confident about the measurements and process," he admitted.
"I get it. Only vialists are licensed to do this," I replied. "But when I was younger, I was trained to mix vials—just the basics, though."
Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Just the basics? And here you are, helping me with complex measurements?"
I smiled slightly. "It's a coincidence that I used to assist my aunt with this kind of thing."
Arthur quickly turned off the Bunsen burner, allowing the mixture to cool for a minute. Then, he carefully added the melted powder to the vial, completing the process.Just then, Caden entered the room.
"Hey, Arthur, the professor wants an update on the mixture," Caden said.
"It's done. I'll be there in a minute," Arthur replied.Caden glanced at the mixture. 
"Wow, you both really pulled it off?"
"Yep! Thanks to Zaira. I owe you big time, Zai," Arthur said with a grin.I smiled. 
"Glad to help." Arthur left with the vial, and I quickly changed into my clinical uniform.
"You're unbelievable, you know that?" I heard Caden say behind me.
"Experience is the best teacher," I replied with a wink as I headed back to the inventory.
As the day ended, I stayed behind in the inventory while Caden fetched cleaning supplies. I decided to count the vials again since there had been a lot of patient requests for medications today.
"Hey, you done?" Caden called out from behind me.
I smiled. "Yeah, I'm done. "The professor wants us to celebrate," he said with a grin. 
"He bought food."My brows furrowed in surprise. 
"Really? That's nice of him."
"Yeah, they're all waiting. Come on," he urged.I nodded. 
"Alright, I'm coming."As I was about to leave, something caught my eye—a pen lying around in the vial section. 
My brows furrowed. I didn’t recall seeing this pen before…
"Zai!" Caden called again.
"I'm coming!" I yelled back, grabbing the pen and heading out with a lingering sense of unease.
I entered the kitchen, my eyes widening at the sight before me. Everyone was waiting, and the table was laden with various dishes—a whole roasted chicken, assorted meats, fruits, and sweets like strawberry cake. There were also several juices arranged neatly on the table.
"Coffey, join us," Thorne's voice echoed in the room. He was sipping his juice, his raven eyes locked on mine.I made my way over and sat across from him.
 "If you don't mind me asking, professor, what's the occasion?" I inquired.
"Well, Secretary Shin is leaving the clinic soon," he said, glancing at her.
We all looked at her in surprise. She smiled warmly at us.
"Yes, it’s true. It’s been a year working with Doctor Ackerman, but my husband and I decided it's time to leave the city," she explained.
Our eyes widened further.
"Then who'll assist the professor?" Arlo asked, concerned.Thorne remained calm. 
"That won't be a problem. Someone new will be joining me tomorrow, so there’s no need to worry."
Secretary Shin smiled at us. "I’m sure you’ll all do great, and I hope to see you become excellent doctors one day."
We enjoyed ourselves with laughter and chatter, the evening passing pleasantly until it was time to leave. I carefully avoided glancing at him, still vividly recalling what had happened the other night. Boundaries needed to be maintained, and I was determined to uphold them.
We thanked both the professor and Secretary Shin for hosting us. I bowed politely, keeping my composure. "Thank you again, Professor."
He nodded in response, and as I left, I couldn’t ignore the quickened pace of my heartbeat.
As I walked, I remembered I needed to stop by the repair shop. My stethoscope, which I had bought some time ago, had become a bit rusty, and I could barely hear the heartbeats through it anymore.
"Let's go, Zai," Arthur called.
"You guys go ahead, I'll be stopping by the market," I replied.
"But it's getting late. If you need groceries, I can get them for you," Arthur offered.
I chuckled. "No, it's not that. My stethoscope needs repairing—it's gotten a bit rusty."
"Oh, alright. Just be careful. I'm sure there are carriages around. See you later," he said.
I nodded, waving goodbye as they left. 
I quickly found a nearby repair shop, and it didn’t take long to fix the stethoscope. 
As I entered the store, I was immediately struck by its vintage charm. The walls were built with flourishing white bricks, giving the space an aged, classic look. Tables were scattered around, covered with various tools and medical equipment. Life-sized dummies stood in the corners, used by students to identify muscles, and a skeleton dummy was also on display, adding to the academic atmosphere of the shop.
The repairman, who looked to be in his 70s, greeted me with a surprised expression, though I didn’t let it bother me.
"Good evening, young lady—oh," he stammered, clearly taken aback by my appearance.
"Good evening," I replied with a smile, handing him the stethoscope. "I need this repaired."
"What seems to be the problem?" he asked, examining the instrument.
"It’s getting a little rusty. I can’t hear the beats as clearly as before," I explained.
He nodded and took it to his workshop. As he worked, he glanced back at me. "I apologize for my reaction earlier—it’s just—"
"Unusual? I get that a lot," I said, smiling to put him at ease.
He shook his head, smiling kindly. "Unique is the proper word, dear."
"That’s very kind of you," I responded, appreciating his warmth.
It didn’t take long for him to finish the repair. When he called me over, I tried the stethoscope, and it worked perfectly. My eyes lit up as I looked at him in gratitude. "Thank you so much!"
"Please, take this as well," he said, handing me a small tube. Attached to my stethoscope was a name tag, beautifully crafted with my name in elegant calligraphy.
"Oh, that’s beautiful! How much do I owe you for this?" I asked, admiring the craftsmanship.
He shook his head. "It’s free. I shouldn’t have reacted that way when you walked in—"
"No, please, I wasn’t offended at all," I reassured him.
He shook his head again, insisting. "Take it as a gift, for your journey to becoming a doctor."
I smiled warmly. "Thank you so much. I’ll make sure to repay your kindness someday."
After thanking him, I stepped outside and waited for a carriage. As I rummaged through my bag, I realized something was missing—my case study folder. Panic surged through me as I remembered leaving it in the kitchen back at Thorne's clinic.
Since the clinic wasn't too far, I decided to walk there quickly. Upon arrival, I noticed the lights were still on inside. Thorne was still up? I sighed and entered the clinic, heading straight to the kitchen to retrieve the folder.
Just as I was about to leave, I heard the sound of shattering glass coming from the inventory room. My heart raced, and despite the nervousness creeping in, my feet moved on their own, guiding me toward the noise.
When I reached the inventory room, my eyes widened in shock—several vials were missing. Panic set in. I turned to run and call for help, but before I could, everything went black.
                               Thorne 
"Thorne," Blackwell’s eyes locked on mine as he spoke.
I had invited him to join me at the bar, a place filled with the subtle aroma of aged oak and exotic spices. Plush velvet seating surrounded dark mahogany tables, each adorned with delicate crystal glasses. Soft music from an ethereal harp played in the background, adding a layer of calm sophistication to the atmosphere. 
The bar itself was made of polished obsidian with golden accents, reflecting the flickering light of enchanted candles. We ordered Phoenix Flame Whiskey, a favorite in this realm, known for its warm, lingering heat with every sip.
"I’ve found your robber," Blackwell said, setting down his crystal glass.
"I’ll deal with the guy later," I replied casually.
"Not really a guy," he corrected, his eyes narrowing as he requested another drink.
I raised an eyebrow. "It's rare to see you wanting another drink."
"Royals," he muttered, taking a slow sip.
I hid a smirk behind my glass, savoring the whiskey’s burn. "Astrid sent you another update, and you’re leading the team for that village mission I requested?"
"The president informed me, yes," Blackwell said. "I have three weeks to assemble my team. Are you really that desperate to see Owain?"
"Yes," I said flatly. "That guy has debts to pay."
Blackwell studied me for a moment, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass. "And you’re sure you can focus on that, despite distractions?"
"My students aren’t a hindrance," I replied, lifting my glass for another sip.
"Really?" His voice echoed with skepticism. "Not even that albino woman... Zaira?"
My jaw clenched. The sound of her name from his lips boiled my blood. I wasn’t drunk—not even close—but the anger flared up inside me.
"Careful, Ackerman," Blackwell warned. "You don’t want to lose your license before completing your mission, right?"
"It won’t happen," I said flatly.
He smirked. "Sure. But I know you, Ackerman. You nearly threw your life away to save that girl."
"I have my reasons," I replied coolly.
"Catching feelings, Ackerman?" he taunted, raising an eyebrow. "Watch your license."
"Fuck my license, I will complete my mission and that's it" I shot back.
He smiled, taking another sip. The whiskey’s bitterness lingered on my tongue, the burn in my throat a sensation I welcomed. But then, something shifted—a tickling sensation at the back of my neck, a tightening in my gut. My instincts screamed that something was wrong.
"What’s wrong?" Blackwell asked, sensing the change.
"I have to go," I said abruptly, standing.
"What the hell, Ackerman?" he called after me as I headed for the door.
I heard him sigh behind me—he knew the drill. My instincts never lied, and right now, they were telling me that something was very wrong.