Mao Mao Apothecary Diaries 소설 & 이야기

I hope I don't write it to cliche🤣. Please vote support and follow Your Author RavenB0

But why let a small detail like that stand in the way? An hour later, she stood in front of her mirror, admiring her makeshift disguise: baggy blue pants, a brown belt with a cobra buckle, a collared shirt tucked under a dark vest, black hat, a fake mustache, and boots that had seen better days. "Not bad," she mused. Her reflection was, at best, unconvincing, but desperate times called for questionable outfits.

David's snoring in the bed beside me, oblivious to what had happened. His arm slung over the pillow where my head should be. But I'm here, in the dim glow of my phone screen, scribbling this out in my diary, because if I don't, it'll eat me alive. Today wasn't just a slip; it was a dive, headfirst into something I've been circling for months. Or years, if I'm honest. ***** At Zephyra Art Gallery, I didn't just let it happen. I started it. Me. Poppy. The good wife, the one who packs David's lunch with snacks, fruit and love notes. What the hell is wrong with me?

It was a common thing, nobody would even be surprised, given the line of work that the madame was into. We had just murdered a well known person in society and questions would be asked. Luckily for us, I paid attention in chemistry classes and did some extra researches on my own. The answer to our problem was a mixture of sodium hydroxide with water, also known as lye. When this mixture is heated to boiling point, it dissolves tissue in a matter of hours. The body is reduced to a brownish slime, leaving only crisp bones that can be easily disposed.

"We’ll keep him secured." I was already running. The apothecary was tucked between a pawn shop and a tattoo parlor. It was a cramped, dimly lit space that smelled heavily of dried sage, sulfur, and old parchment. Floor-to-ceiling wooden shelves were packed with amber glass jars, hand-labeled tins, and ceramic crocks containing rare roots and preserved organs. Bundles of herbs hung from the rafters, and a thick coating of dust covered everything except for a heavy brass scale on the marble counter.

I let out a slow breath and placed the heavy, soot-stained ledger into his palm. Kai Feng turned the book over. The edges were badly singed, the smell of burnt glue and old paper rising from the binding. He flipped it open to the center pages, his sharp eyes scanning the neat, archaic handwriting of his mother’s former physician. As his eyes moved down the column of daily medicinal entries, I watched the muscles in his jaw tighten until the bone looked like it might snap through his skin. He reached the bottom of the page, where a specific chemical compound—a rare root extract used to suppress wolf fevers, but lethal in high, continuous doses—was documented alongside a signature seal.

Dear Diary, I’ve decided to keep a book recording all my days here at High Hill, should make pleasant reading in the future! Well, let’s start with the basics. I’m Gabriel; surname’s irrelevant as I’d rather not link myself to my parents. I’m 15; average height, wavy mousey brown hair, hazel brown eyes, and I’ve just arrived on my first day here. My parents sent me here because apparently public school isn’t good enough for me. But the reason they don’t know is that my parents would rather not have a son like me around them, snobbish twats. I’m just not good enough for them because I’m gay... Oh yes, did I not mention, I’m gay...and single... and full of a house with lots of boys in it. Oh b

His face went still. "Ken tracked him down. Got him to confirm the sale." I pointed to the relevant lines. "Moonpetal. False root. Shadowmoss. Enough to maintain a fake pregnancy for eight months." Karson's eyes moved across the page. Reading. Absorbing. "And this." I handed him the second document. Excerpts from my mother's diary, carefully copied onto fresh paper. "My mother documented these herbs as a warning. She wrote about the symptoms they create. The swelling. The scent changes. Everything that fooled us."

Quinn opened the sachet of Apothecary Stomach Pill, which contained only 1.3 grams of powder. As soon as she tore the sachet open, she could smell a very strong scent of medicine. Although similar medications such as the Kobayashi Stomach Pill and the Ottasan Stomach Pill also had relatively strong medicinal aromas, Quinn felt that the scent of the other two medications were far less pleasant and comforting compared to the scent of the Apothecary Stomach Pill.