"Mmm, what do we have here?" Tapper mused. His voice, slowed like the rest of his movements, carried an odd warble in the constant humming. His fingers danced over the options as Tapper's imagination ran free over all the possibilities, but his hand instead snaked down to snatch the jerry can. "Something easy first. Something eager to burn." Tapper heard chairs scraping as his compatriots scooted further away, but they didn't stop him.

  He poured half of the jerry can's biodiesel into the cauldron and mentally lowered its temperature to a low simmer. He plucked another bottle without looking and jostled its contents in the firelight, examining the thick black motor oil for a second before he upturned everything into the pot. Tapper rocked the cauldron slightly to swirl it and attempted to examine the ingredients by their feel, rather than their visual cues. Biofuel drank up the cauldron's offered heat, its want for release kept ticking just below the fire line, while oil rebuffed everything. It could carry the fire further, if only Tapper could overcome the slickness.

  "Mmm, something that ticks and something that slicks. All that's missing is… something that sticks. Kakisi."

  Tapper could feel everything right now, including the connection to his familiar. It resonated so clearly with his humming that he could reach out and tug the vibrating thread, and without another word the dutiful octolusk squiggled over and climbed up Tapper's leg. Kakisi plopped down on Tapper's outstretched hand, his little tentacles dangling over the simmering sludge, and Tapper scritched him all the way down Kakisi's misshapen shell. "Good boy. Now, Spray."

  The word of power spun effortlessly into a spell, just as smoothly as if Tapper had cast it on his own body. He didn't stop to think whether this was due to his trance-like emotional state or because he cast it on his familiar, as such things are the concern of stuffy analytics. This was his true craft at work.

  Kakisi swelled slightly, as if taking a deep breath, before he suddenly expelled a full pint of jelly directly into the cauldron. Tapper knew that the spell hadn't harmed Kakisi, but he still felt the strain and exhaustion through their connection, so he gently placed his familiar down on the table to rest.

  "Hold up, is Kakisi okay?" a voice asked. Phanya's voice, although she sounded foggy and out of focus. Kakisi whistled in response, waving a sleepy tentacle in the air. Then Ricky started explaining how they normally harvest jelly, and Tapper tuned out the unnecessary distractions. He couldn't look away from his craft now.

  "And jam of a baron to jelly the burn," he whispered.

  Lumps formed as both gas and oil stuck to the jelly, so close but not quite complete, so Tapper reached down to evenly mix everything together with his hand. Even after numbing his limb Tapper still felt the heat, but that paled in comparison to the cauldron's intensifying magic as the reagents started to swirl and harmonize, egging him forward. Tapper opened up his own reserves and poured mana into the cauldron, the final ingredient to build a crescendo, and then it clicked. All ingredients merged into a tacky pitch, black with blue highlights and thick enough that Tapper easily scooped the contents into a jar with his hand.

  [New crafting recipe found: Dirty Molotov Cocktail! +1 XP (Bartender)

  Light on fire to burn for 1d4 minutes, covering the area in a column of noxious smoke. Entering the smoke grants partial cover, but breathing it requires a DC 10 Constitution save each round to avoid being stunned with a coughing fit. Direct contact with the sticky substance requires a full round action to remove and causes 1 point of fire damage per round while burning, but excessive impurities prevent significant damage.]

  A small amount of pitch still clung to his fingers, so without any hesitation Tapper flipped open his lighter and lit his hand on fire. True to its description, the concoction crackled with thick, oily smoke that quickly vanished into the thick, humid night sky. The burn barely felt any hotter than touching the cauldron.

  "Fascinating. Marred by filth, but no less promising," Tapper noted, curiosity bubbling in his warbling voice. This was just the beginning!

  Tapper set the smoke bomb aside and grabbed the rest of the bottles. He hadn't managed to properly separate the liquids, so everything went into the cauldron at once. The bright, almost neon yellow antifreeze danced with rainbow hues from the battery acid, a beautiful display that Tapper could watch for hours.

  And yet, looking past the dazzle he felt that this wasn't enough to brew a potion. Antifreeze ate the heat, but unlike an engine's lifeblood this element felt no desire to explode. Meanwhile the iridescent acid existed to carry a different type of energy, and it wished to sparkle once again. He needed another ingredient to bridge the gap, something more substantial than Kakisi's jelly. Something to force the disparate elements together.

  The perfect excuse to further push the cauldron's capabilities! Tapper clapped the lid down and placed both hands on the cauldron, taking a closer feel for its thrumming internal energy. Most of the external magical that Tapper had encountered so far was blank and neutral, formless until he gave it form, but ever since he first touched it Tapper could feel a distinct layer to the cauldron's magic. This layer felt like the echo of a spell hidden within its mortal coil, one that Tapper couldn't identify without first destroying his precious equipment.

  Just like how he tore into Drillbert's mind and soul, consuming his secrets until nothing remained.

  But he didn't have to. An echo leaves an impression in the aether, and after a few failed starts Tapper carefully poured his own mana into the spell's memory. Once he filled its shape the spell came to life and the cauldron reacted, its contents instantly shooting to a roiling boil. Yet the spell itself could not fully manifest while still nestled within the cauldron's iron folds and it refused to separate without an increased effort of will, so Tapper opened up his dictionary to help the magic along.

  "Wrought in iron, peeled of vesture

  Grant me this aggrandized Pressure!"

  A simple spell, but Tapper didn't need a complex pattern to use preexisting magic; he just needed to work a sliver of his will underneath the shape to pry it free. And it was so close! Tapper's burning excitement wanted to tear the spell out, but his throttled CPU forced him to work slowly and deliberately. Humming a resonance frequency with the cauldron's vibrations helped keep Tapper focused, and he felt the essence of pure Pressure gradually peel away from the cauldron.

  Once the last thread severed the spell component was immediately reabsorbed into the cauldron, but now as an ingredient. Pressure swelled within the cauldron at an alarming rate, forcing Tapper to clamber on top and hold the rattling lid down with his full body weight while steam whistled out of any opening it could find. Through his direct contact Tapper felt the wave of Pressure build, break, and recede as all ingredients condensed into a complete potion.

  He almost felt afraid to lift the lid. Thankfully the cauldron still had a small emergency release valve at the bottom, from its days as a boiler, and Tapper held a glass bottle beneath the opening. At the valve's barest twist a gout of brilliant yellow-green liquid shot into the bottle, so bright that it sparkled with potential, and Tapper held it up like a beacon in the night.

  Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

  [New crafting recipe and variant found: Pressurized Frostbite Reflux! +2 XP (Bartender)

  Explodes into a cloud with a 5 meter radius, which lasts for 1d6 rounds and causes 1d3 acid damage each round. This damage increases by 1d3 if your eyes are exposed, and another 1d3 if your lungs are exposed to the acidic fumes. The cloud is also highly conductive to both electricity and frost elements; both forms of damage increase by one step, electric attacks are guaranteed to jump targets at least once, and saves against freezing are taken at disadvantage.]

  Quiet laughter started to crackle from Tapper's speaker, completely unbidden. This was amazing! Not only did he brew a potent weapon, but it felt like he was holding a bottle of the highest-quality absinthe. Both his witchy instincts and bartender metrics purred with delight, the latter kicking in to deliver some flourishes as Tapper flipped the bottle over and set it on the table. It vibrated slightly where it sat.

  "Hey buddy, how're you feeling?"

  Tapper nearly jumped out of his servos. When did Ricky sneak up on him? But his momentum couldn't slow now, and Tapper rallied. "Ricky my friend, I feel excellent! Exuberant, even! The possibilities are positively exhilarating!"

  "I bet they are!" Ricky smiled, but it didn't feel genuine. "Might be a good time to take a break, though. How's your mana looking?"

  Tapper stopped, taking a long second to bring up his status. Interacting with the system like this was always so cumbersome when he could just feel it out instead, but he knew Ricky wanted specifics. "Two points of MP remain nestled within my bosom. And here's another number to tickle your ticker: I am merely one discovery away from ranking up my Bartending!"

  Confusion and concern flashed across Ricky's face before he plastered on another smile. "Okay, that's great! But you used up almost all of your mana on those two potions. Why don't we call it a night, and we'll work on that last hurdle tomorrow?"

  Tapper imitated a gasp, but with his slowed voice it sounded closer to a raspy groan. "Cease now? Codswallop! This is the cusp! The climax! The crème de la sorcellerie! I merely require outside credit for the craft."

  Without waiting for further arguments, Tapper shuffled over to the jitney and dug into its small icebox. The two ears of enchanted corn still sat undisturbed, with Tapper too cautious to experiment on them. Too fearful. But now was not the time for half-measures, and he scooted past Phanya and Ricky while they bickered about something unimportant. Tapper held the two ears over the cauldron, and for a split second he thought that it opened a bit wider. As if in eager anticipation to consume more magic.

  Probably just because his capacity for imagination was running hotter than ever before, but Tapper didn't question it. Instead he used his drill hand to grind every bit of frozen corn, cobs and all, into sparkling snowfall. The ice shards started to melt as soon as they settled in the basin, but Tapper knew he'd need more liquid for a full potion. Especially since he wasn't sure how to best use the glow corn's Light.

  "Mmm. Jeweled ears dazzle under the Moon, what else to pay for this fine boon?"

  It wasn't a spell, but the effect that rhyming had on his witchy instincts was just as magical and filled him with confidence. He knew he could figure this out! And only one option for the liquid base remained on hand, so without a second thought Tapper dumped the rest of the biodiesel in. But why stop there?

  Tapper reached into his chest cavity and pulled out the speaker box that he looted from the gremlin nearly a week ago, taking a moment to feel out the strangely organic metal cylinder. He sent a touch of mana into the speaker box to test it and found that, unlike the cauldron's Pressure, this construct did not hold a spell shape that required careful filing. This was a more direct application that would scream out everything Tapper fed it, as soon as he fed it. Surely the quasi-organ was just as hardy as everything else created of that monster, so Tapper dropped the speaker box into the cauldron and replaced the lid.

  "Burning fire and a specter's wail, married together without fail!" Tapper giggled. He couldn't stop himself now, not while he was on a roll, and he never wanted to stop rolling. Half of his remaining mana flowed through the cauldron to seek out the speaker box and it instantly screamed into the slurry of corn and diesel. Frothing liquids muffled the sound, but the cauldron shuddered and all background bickering stopped. Tapper poured the rest of his mana into the imprint for Pressure, and he started to repeat the same spell to bring everything together.

  He felt the magic collapse before he finished speaking. There were simply too many opposing concepts to build any sort of cohesion without any rhyme or reason. It would take a tremendous, stupendous amount of magic to force all the reagents together like this, probably more than Tapper's entire mana supply. Now he was running on fumes and couldn't stop the energy from cannibalizing itself in a runaway chain reaction, helpless to do anything but feel it sputter and peter out.

  [Crafting check failed!]

  [Potion Brewing has fizzled]

  Any remaining magic escaped the cauldron in a wave of visual distortion, as if the great pot sighed and slumped in defeat. Or Tapper was subconsciously reflecting his own emotional state.

  "The heck was that?" Phanya asked. Her voice sounded much more clear now, and clearly carried concern. "It felt… wrong."

  "Cool, you felt it too?" Ricky scratched into his notepad.

  Shame. Tapper's emotions wanted to remain quiet if it meant not admitting to his mistake, but his programming interpreted it as a direct question from his proprietor and compelled him to answer. "That was my folly that you felt. I overspent and failed utterly to craft that potion, losing all reagents to pay my tab." Tapper quickly resumed his normal CPU speeds and raised his emotional firewalls to their baseline state, but he still felt the bruise to his ego. "I am sorry, my friends."

  "I thought you were talking more nonsense than usual at the end. Why didn't you stop him, Ricky?"

  "Oh it's fine, I was watching him the whole time!" Ricky dismissed Phanya's concern by jostling Tapper's shoulder. "Besides, I think with how this system works any skill is bound to fizzle out sooner or later, better it happen now and not in the middle of a fight. Now we know what happens when potions fail!" He cracked open the cauldron's lid and instantly reeled back, blinking away tears from the smoke assaulting his eyes. "Holy s–wow, that is nasty! Alright Tapper, now we know and you don't ever need to do that again."

  Tapper managed to numb his sense of smell before the smoke hit him, but his sensors still registered carbon monoxide and aromatic hydrocarbons. All the markings of burned food, except for the implausibly high concentration of volatile organic compounds. Even Kakisi, never one to turn away from unwanted food, gagged at the smell.

  "It is almost remarkable how thoroughly, completely useless a failure of this magnitude is," Tapper said to himself. "I will dispose of the evidence and ponder my shortcomings."

  "Stop beating yourself up, Taps. No one got hurt, and Ms. Uxral always says that accidents are only mistakes if you don't learn anything from them." Phanya walked up to console Tapper, but quickly retreated upwind from the smell. "If you're so close to a breakthrough, then just try again."

  Tapper rocked his cauldron slightly in thought, and a faint rattling interrupted his contemplation. Now that he wasn't focusing on the failure he felt something else amidst the sludge — specifically, he felt a pocket of nothing at all. His hand snaked down and plucked the pocket out, striking too quickly for self-doubt to gnaw at his second thoughts, and Tapper raised his prize. Ricky reeled back as some sludge splattered in his direction.

  "My speakerbox! It's utterly devoid of mana, but it survived!"

  Phanya clapped, further backing a safe distance away. "Told you! Heck, maybe we can just buy some more magic corn from CoPE Station? It's been a few days and we need to try talking to them again, anyways."

  Ricky winced. "Uh yeah, so about that…"

  Phanya froze in place, her back turned to them with one foot hovering through the jitney's open door. She knew the sound of Ricky wincing anywhere, and her voice turned cold. "Boys, what did you do?"