After Surviving the Apocalypse, I Built a City in Another World novel Chapter 1239

Because… at this rate, the old man might really die.

He had been working endlessly for decades. He had seen some success and had discovered new things, but it was never enough for the old man.

Because his focus was never on training, the old man was only level 52 even at his age. He also used a few aether crystals, but refused to be dependent on them knowing the disadvantages.

This meant that the old man was already at the latter stage of his life.

How could Gregor—his son for nearly 70 years—feel comfortable with what he was doing?

"Well, it is high time for a break anyway," Gregor just said in the end, heading down to order the kitchen to cook lighter food. "A lot of people have been looking for you."

Hoffen sneered. "Che," he said, spitting on the floor without care. "Shoo them away. Tell them I'd spit on their faces if I see them."

"..."

Hoffen was also known for his extremely antisocial nature. He very rarely went outside his lab, let alone outside the house.

Even when he was a kid and Hoffen wasn't as big of a name as he was now, there would be some kindhearted neighbors who would ask if he had an adult in the house.

At the time, when he said there had always been an adult inside, they looked at him weirdly and with eyes full of pity.

Later, he realized they believed he was imagining things.

His words were only proven true when the Grandmaster made an even bigger name for himself, and only then did people realize who was living in their humble house.

When the old man reached Class B and eventually Class A of the profession, there had been hundreds of people begging to be his apprentice. They offered massive rewards, and someone even promised to buy him a Village Token.

There were also plenty of people who begged for his potions, but he always produced according to his mood, and he would never be pressured to create potions he wasn't in the mood to create.

The old man had very little patience with the living population. How many times people got humiliated in front of his doorsteps, Gregor could not count.

If Hoffen wasn't so talented and wasn't the only one who could make some of his potions, it was estimated he'd have been hunted down by some noble families due to how hateful he was.

The only exemptions were probably the few who were acclaimed talents in the field. For those types, he might listen a bit and test them out, but no one had ever passed his mysterious tests.

Some didn't even feel like tests. For example, how they arranged their materials, how they drank their tea, or how they held their books somehow determined whether they could be apprentices.

This went on for years until, eventually, people just gave up for the sake of face. _{freewebnovel.cσ๓}

Hoffen only adopted Gregor from a young age because he had some talent for distinguishing plants and was a good errand boy.

He was also very very reticent, like a wall that no one noticed, which was just what Hoffen wanted.

Sadly he had no talent in alchemy itself. Even when he was revealed to be a rare elementalist, he knew the old man would've been happier if he had become an alchemist instead.

It was one of the saddest things in Gregor's life. After all, Hoffen was like his father, whether or not the latter thought the same.

Of course, he did not become lax and trained harder than others. With effort and talent, he quickly rose the ranks, and became a force to be reckoned with even before he reached 30 years old.

He received various good offers for his talent, but he never left the old man's side. One had to note that the old man wasn't so famous back then, and in comparison, the offers he received really were good even by City standards.

In the end, he chose to live the rest of his life as the old man's personal guard and assistant instead.

"There have indeed been many letters that came in the past few months…" Gregor said. "Would you like to open a few for a change of pace?"

Anything to distract the Master from his experiments would be welcome.

"Meh," Hoffen said, waving his hand, just finishing off his food for the sake of it.

Gregor was disappointed but unsurprised. The old man usually ignored letters in general; it was nothing personal.

At this, Gregor and Saffron exchanged looks before they started clearing out the letters on the table.

Unexpectedly—

"Wait."

The old man looked at the pile, extending his frail arms to pull one.

One particular envelope seemed to have caught his eye. It was much thinner than the others and had a pretty flower on the seal. His eyebrows rose.

Gregor looked at it. "It's sent by the Golds, if I remember correctly," he said, not that it would matter because even the Lord himself could get ignored.

Hoffen just kept staring at it though, which surprised the other people in the room.

"I… have never seen this plant before," Hoffen mumbled before turning the letter to see what was written on the back.

"From: A fellow curious mind, Althea Witt…"