Chapter 46

The staff member assigned to search my luggage was a woman.

I unzipped my backpack cleanly and handed it over. I wasn’t nervous at all.

There wasn’t much inside: a few sets of old clothes washed so many times they’d faded white; an old‑fashioned radio; a small whetstone with chipped corners; a stone mortar and pestle; a tightly tied bag of “wood shavings”; and two pairs of cloth shoes worn soft from being stepped on.

She flipped through each item. Her fingers even paused on the fabric for a few seconds, like she couldn’t believe someone would bring luggage this shabby onto a show.

In the end, she checked off on her list and set my backpack aside.

I leaned against the door frame and watched Jevon and Lilith still arguing in the yard.

I couldn’t help curling my lips. Looks like someone wasn’t sleeping tonight.

The woman didn’t leave.

Instead, her eyes stayed on the items on the table, like she was waiting for me to explain myself.

I knew exactly why.

The director wanted “talking points”—something strange, something to spin.

I took my time plugging in the radio, fingers twisting the knob which shone with sweat‑polish.

A crackle of static—then a blast of shrieking brass music exploded into the room.

The staff woman jumped and clapped her hands over her ears. The cameraman jerked, and the footage shook like an earthquake.

I cut the power in time. Silence snapped back.

Looking at their expressions, I let out a low laugh.

“Wake‑up call. Effective, right?”

Her ears were red as she rubbed them, forcing a strained smile.

But of course her gaze slid right back to the mortar and pestle.

“And these… what are they for?”

I traced a finger along the stone rim, voice calm.

“Making medicine. That’s not against the rules, is it?”

Her eyes immediately flicked to my bandaged arm. A look of understanding softened her face.

“Potions would heal faster, you know.”

I only smiled, not bothering to explain. “I prefer herbs.”

Once she left, I didn’t bother putting anything away.

I kept it all on the table.

I opened the bag of “wood shavings” and began grinding with the stone pestle, slow and steady.

The scent seeped out little by little, faint bitterness mixed with mineral dust.

This was for Dwyn.

His taste problem couldn’t be delayed.

Only when it was ground fine enough would the effect be reliable.

Not long after, the director’s voice came through my earpiece:

“Everyone to the rooftop. Dinner and games.”

His tone was deliberately excited, clearly he wanted drama.

I glanced at the powder, poured half into an incense burner, borrowed a lighter, and lit it.

White smoke curled upward, light, lingering, the scent faint but persistent.

The rooftop gradually grew lively.

Goselle hugged a bag of chips.

Yvonne brought a jar of pickled cucumbers.

Dwyn shook a bag of beef jerky.

The moment he arrived; Dwyn noticed the incense burner. His nose twitched.

“Oh? Incense? What are you burning?”

I smiled, deliberately teasing him. “Rare herbs.”

Goselle snorted a laugh and leaned in to smell.

“Huh? Smells kind of like medicine.”

I stopped playing around.

“It is herbal medicine. Help you relax, sleep, steady your mood… and repel bugs.”

I paused on purpose, eyes landing on Dwyn.

“Taken orally, it works the same way. The only downside is it’s extremely bitter.”

“In old legends, even a dead man would taste the bitterness.”

The instant I said that, Dwyn’s eyes lit up.

I poured the ground powder into water.

The bitter smell hit like a wall so strong Goselle backed up.

“God, who could drink that?”

I raised the cup and tasted it first, deliberately frowning, then passed the rest over.

Yvonne hesitated, took a small sip and tears immediately welled up. But she still forced a stubborn smile.

“Not bad.”

Dwyn didn’t hesitate. He drank it in one go.

Then his whole body locked up, gaze empty for a beat.

Goselle panicked and shoved his shoulder.

“Dwyn? Are you okay?”

A long moment later, he finally breathed out two words.

“So bitter.”

Relief loosened in my chest.

If he could taste bitterness, he wasn’t beyond saving.

I handed him the second cup. He took it, but frowned.

“It’s too bitter. Do you have sugar?”

I lifted a brow. “No sugar.”

“Pickled cucumbers? Chips?”

Goselle immediately hugged her snacks protectively.

“Don’t mess around! I don’t want a mouth full of bitter.”

Dwyn’s eyes flashed. He grabbed the beef jerky, about to dip it into the medicine water.

I lunged, stopping him. “Don’t!”

“Mixing it will ruin the effect. Eat it straight.”

He looked confused, but he listened and stuffed the jerky into his mouth.

The next second, his eyes went wide.

He paused, then chewed faster and faster, excitement spilling across his face.

“I can taste,” he mouthed silently. His lips barely moving, but his eyes trembling.

I held his gaze and gave a small nod.

Around us, everyone was still laughing and chatting, completely unaware of the current running beneath the surface.

I spoke up casually.

“You all have snacks. I didn’t bring anything. Should I go downstairs and buy some?”

Dwyn immediately jumped in.

“I’ll go with you. And we can get playing cards.”

He shot me a look, and before anyone could react, he walked down with me quickly.

At the stairwell corner, he stopped, lowered his voice, and told the cameraman,

“Pause filming. We need to talk in private.”