Part 1

Nighttime, we all gather at Master Kong’s place, silently seated in a circle to report the success we had in our mission and to talk about issues concerning the future. Cool and gentle breeze blows from the half-opened windows and flames vigorously burn in the fireplace, gently illuminating our darkened faces in weakened shades of red and orange.

The revered master gives me a stern look. His pupils glow brightly, reflecting the fluttering flames. He asks in a low pitched voice, “Certainly, you defeating the villain is an outstanding achievement, but we have thousands of hooligans at large. They will cause us trouble in the long run. How will you deal with this situation?”

Only if everything went according to my original plan, I’d have Artemis rally the band of hooligans much like how I dealt with Rocky. Now… ugh! It pains me, but controlling the group is not a walk in the park.

I turn to our good knight, Albert. Arms crossed, his eyes glisten, listening intently to the discussion. “Sir Albert, can you please bring Artemis here?”

“Alright…” He slides the door open and walks out to the yard. He comes back a little while later, gently escorting the uncooperative Artemis in, unrestrained.

I admit, the lass is a beauty, but shame, I can’t help but feel pity and disgust. Soot and snot smears her face, a thick network of tiny veins reddens her eyes as if they would bleed, and black sticky mud covers her entire body – her hair, skin, and clothes.

Head held low, she unwillingly drags her heavy feet against the wooden floor and carpet, staining them with dirt. She runs her hand against the wall and furniture, smearing them too with dirt. She dirties everything she touches, including Albert, whose clothes are stamped gray in the lass’ handprint.

Gently led by Albert, she obediently sits down in front of me.

Should I do this? I feel this is too drastic, but I have much experience to leverage on. I pioneered Scientia.

The repercussions may be tremendous if the situation is not properly handled. I risk losing face to the revered master.

And I talked too much and boasted about my abilities during the debate. Did I bite off more than I can chew? There’s one way to find out, but before that…

I closed my eyes, clasping my hands tightly. Although I didn’t believe in any god in particular, I pray earnestly to the River god.

I know that there are some things in the world beyond scientific explanation, like my reincarnation. Should I get divine intervention, better it be now.

I hope to get good luck and guidance.

I steel myself. Upon opening my eyes, I address the revered master, who at the moment looks unimpressed. “We already talked about the solution. It’s straightforward, but not easy. First, I need men who we can trust to guard the area. For now, I guess, Artemis, I appoint you as Scientia’s guard captain of Exteris.”

Artemis’ reddened eyes lock sights at me, scornfully leering. She breaks her long held silence. “Brat, don’t think I’ll help you.”

“You will. You’ll be paid, and how much you will be paid depends on the quality of your work. I heard you have a family. Wasn’t that brat who stole my pouch a few days ago your brother? If you have a proper job, you can help them well. All you have to do is riot control, for the moment.”

“Hmph! You don’t even have money.” She turns her face away and spits.

“But I have great plans and these. It’s a new and abundant fuel source. It’s called, crude oil.” I point to the kegs filled with the mysterious black fluid, inviting curious looks from everyone in the room, the revered master, especially.

“Really? Give it to me, Kid. Let’s test it.” Excited, Ricardo hurriedly grabs a rag, ties it to a stick, dips it in the substance, and sets it ablaze. The flame bursts violent red and orange accompanied with thick black and noxious smoke. The idiot, imagine my shock!

“Lynn!” The master screams and coughs, covering his mouth with his long draping sleeves.

Lynn, the assistant, hurriedly snatches the makeshift torch away from Ricardo, throws it outside, and extinguishes it. Like lightning, the super assistant dashes, tying up the curtains and opening all the windows to spare us some fresh air to breathe.

Cough! “Are you crazy, kid? Those aren’t even worth a stone coin! OUCH!!” Nina drops a solid boot in the man’s toes, making him jump, roll, and grimace while holding the sore toes.

Cough! “You’re the one’s crazy, lighting that thing up. Oh, my writing!” WOOH! From the widely opened windows, a welcome stream of cool wind enters the scene abruptly, whistling, blowing away the noxious odor as well as Nina’s sheets of parchment. As a result, the lass runs around the room, chasing and gathering the sheets of parchment scattered by accident.

Ricardo sneaks a laugh, while the revered master quietly watches, sipping tea.

Relieved, Albert slowly removes his hand from his nose. “Good heavens! Definitely, nobody in the right mind would buy such a noxious smelling product. I don’t think people would replace their common lamp oils with this ridiculously foul black fluid.”

“Exactly! That’s why it’s called crude. It needs be refined. Worry not. I have the method of extracting the parts of it that burns cleanly. The extracted kerosene is cheap to produce, burns brighter than most oils, and burns cleanly.”

Eyebrows furrowed, the master suddenly slams his teacup down the table, asking “Interesting, perhaps you would like to carry out the process of extracting this kerosene with me. My disciples will surely be thrilled with this new discovery. ”

“Absolutely. Your help is more than welcome. It requires a lot of labor to produce the product, so I’ll need your help. In the nearest future, I’ll reveal more of the oil’s applications.”

With the hype over paraffin, the discussion carries on. I spend several hours and more than a dozen cups of tea, explaining to the master the process of oil extraction, fractional distillation – a process that is unheard of in the River Kingdom.

Luckily, he has most of the equipment needed, thanks to his alchemy lab. And impressively, he immediately gets down to work, jotting down lengthy notes and absorbing the new concepts like a sponge.

I admire his comprehension, considering that the concentration of his works revolves mostly in the area of history. A jack of all trades and a master of one, I believe he is.

He puts his charcoal pencil down on the table. “Good, we can extract this paraffin in no time. But don’t distract me. Don’t think I have forgotten. How is this related to the issue?” He snorts, stroking of his frizzy beard.

Over a few more cups of tea, I disclose to the master my plan.

I’ll have Artemis and Ricardo suppress the lawless violence in the area. There I’ll set an oil refinery, where the people of Exteris can earn a living by refining and selling oil. Hopefully, the demand grows so we can hire more people. That way, the people will learn how to make a decent living without causing trouble to other people.

Pokerfaced, the master looks unmoved even after hearing the explanation. He accepts the plan, although his tone of voice isn’t very reassuring.

Meanwhile, our good knight listens intently to the conversation. He raises his hand and speaks that he didn’t want to be left out, so he asks of ways he could help.

However, I fear that I’m taking advantage of his naïve heart. He has already contributed much to the progress of this journey.

“Here, take this. I’d like to borrow enough money to pay Artemis and Ricardo their salaries.” I hand to the knight my massive spiked club of death as collateral.

“I can’t accept this. What if you get into fights?” The knight pushes the club back to me.

I explain that from this point on, the weapon would see less action, so I didn’t really need it. But no matter how much I nag him into accepting, he won’t budge. He insists that he would lend me money even without collateral.

“I will feel bad without giving you anything in return. Can you wait till tomorrow? I’ll give you some lamp oil in exchange.”

After much persuasion, I get him at least to accept a proposal in exchange of 6 gold coins, enough money to pay Ricardo and Artemis for three months’ worth of duty. I wipe the sweat off my forehead and gladly shake his hand, sealing the agreement.

Then I look at Artemis who earlier was deep in thought about the proposal. Once more I ask her, and with a warm and gentle smile, she shyly reaches my hand, signifying her acceptance of the deal.

I grab and shake the hand to return the favor. Her sweat sticks to my palm.

And oddly, I’m drawn to inspect her hand.

Her palm is warm yet rough, and her fingers, slender, long, and supple. Dirt gathers under the tip of her long slightly chipped nails, darkening them.

Shame these hands, she needs them manicured.

“Isn’t that enough squeezing? Why you… you’re interested in my hand. Don’t tell me?” Ear to ear, her warm smile turns into an evil grin. Her face darkens, and her eyes glow, casting long bright golden rays like a star in a summer night sky would. Her body emits a trembling ghostly purplish aura, which flutters, trembles, and dances to the stream of wind.

In a heartbeat, I pull my hand away, backing away a step. “Naah ahh. It’s not what you think. Why would a kid be interested? Haa… haaa… haa..”

“Haa… haa… haa…” Breathing heavily, she pants and drools, adding to her already strange, creepy, and scary facial expression. Like a zombie, she slowly rises up, gradually raising both arms forward.

She lunges at me, and in a blitz, I get caught in her arms. She rubs her dirty cheek to mine, transferring some of the drool, soot, and snot. Tighter, the maniac squeezes me in a hug, accelerating her awful cheek to cheek rub, screaming “You’re soooo cuuuutttee! Kyaa!”

I push her away and her venomous drool splatters on the carpet, floor, and furniture, sizzling and vaporizing into a white steam, staining the woodwork black.

Albert, DON’T LAUGH!

“HELP!” I reach to the knight.

Albert comes in between, pushing the witch away from me.

Sounding and looking firm, he tells Artemis off. “Hold it. That’s enough, Artemis.”

Albert, you idiot. That’s all wrong! Those aren’t… those are!

The knight’s hand pulsates. The oriental witch tightly clasps with both hands the offending hand, burying it deeper into her chest. Her breathing becomes rougher and harder, her cheeks flush red, her facial muscles twitch, and her trembling pupils lock at the knight, glowing even brighter.

She then vigorously flings and coils against Albert’s arm, screaming “MARRY ME!” Her corrosive spit flies towards the knight’s face.

“Stay away!” Reflexively, the poor knight pulls his arm away from the witch’s grasp. He jumps back and runs around the living room, chased around by the zombie-witch, dog-in-heat, Artemis, whose uncontrollable dripping drool soils and stains the wooden floor and carpet.

“HEY! Stay away from Sir Albert!” Nina joins in, chasing the witch in circles. Her eyes glow, flaring bright red.

I grab Nina’s hand in an attempt to stop her, but rage, she won’t - she drags me on the carpet, the floor, running after the two.

Like kids, the three run around the master’s living room in circles, only to be stopped by exhaustion a little later on. Returning to her seat, Nina halts first, followed by Artemis. Tongues out, the girls pant like dogs, resting.

And before we noticed it, it is already early in the morning.

Already tired, Nina falls asleep in her seat, holding in her hand some sheets of parchment, her unfinished story. And same can be said of Ricardo whose loud snore reverberates in the woodwork.

Witnessing all the craziness that happened, the master lightens up, laughing warmly whilst stroking his long frizzy white beard. “Late. It’s already late. Spend the night here.”

Since I have no other options, I accept the master’s warm offer.

On the other hand, the good knight refused the offer. Hurriedly, he straps himself to his TAU and heads home, running – his massive metallic greaves pound the earth heavily, disturbing the silence.

After seeing the guest off, the master retires to his quarters, and finally we are left alone in the living room.

Nina sleeps uncomfortably in her seat, neck bent.

It can’t be helped. I lift her off her awkward posture and lay her down on the carpet. Ricardo too… but who cares, he can deal with some neck pain.

Next, I draw an imaginary line on the floor, pointing to the maniac witch, Artemis, “You may not cross this. I’ll seriously fire you.”

Puppy eyed, she retreats to sulk in the corner, rolling into a ball. Pitiful thing, but pitiful me should I allow her.

Part 2

Immediately after eating breakfast, the master and I head straight to his alchemy laboratory, talking about how we will carry out the paraffin extraction. After the exchange of words, the master orders his disciples to get the needed materials.

One at a time, the disciples come and go, bringing in all the needed alchemic equipment, namely ceramic flasks, crucibles, copper pipes, basins, buckets, leather, cork, and etcetera.

For the proof of concept, I show the master and his disciples the charcoal sketch of the distillation equipment. And immediately, the master tasks the disciples for the assembly of the setup.

One of them disciples dumps coal into the stove to prepare it for the operation, while others busily prepares the parts of the apparatus for assembly. Some hammer, chisel, and saw wood for the platform stand; and some cut, bend, and join the copper pipes together.

Half of the day is consumed to finish the assembly, resulting in a crude fractional distiller, an apparatus that towers taller than a kid like me.

The simple apparatus consists only of three major parts, the ceramic boiler or flask, the copper fractionating column, and the copper condenser coil column. In theory, it works by applying heat to the boiler, thus vaporizing the crude oil, which then shall pass through the fractionating column and condenser to be condensed into purer substances.

To cut the story short, the newly invented equipment should extract the much needed petroleum products from the crude.

Since we do not have precision instruments, like a thermometer and digital timers, we proceed with the experiment armed with our notepads. We jot down the variables like the amount of fuel, time spent, amount of crude oil, products distilled, and so on.

The process of recording everything is necessary to replicate the experiment. Science after all is not science if its principles are not repeatable.

The disciples fire up the stove and set a period for collection of the distilled fluid with an hourglass. As the period expires, one of them disciples removes the cork stopper from the tap. A clear and steamy fluid flows down to the crucible with a familiar noxious smell, gasoline.

Over the next period, the same clear fluid comes out of the tap. And to the next one, the same. It’s a redundant process, but safe – it does not mix up the distilled products. Some crucibles contain same substances as the others. We end up collecting eleven batches of them from the experimental distillation.

The master then leads the flammability test of the distilled oils. I warn him of the volatility of the products, gasoline especially, thus in the test, he distances himself from the products as a safety precaution.

The master starts the test. He pinches sawdust with a pair of long tongs, lights it, and drops it on the first crucible. The fuel flash ignites into a hot jet of bright and explosive yellow flame, producing much black smoke. The downside, it burns too quick due to its volatile nature, leaving little to no residue in the crucibles.

The disciples chatter, seeing the violent burning of the volatile fluid, and the master looks unimpressed by it, commenting about the dangers.

I explain to them, “Indeed. There are better applications for this liquid fuel. Should we start distilling these, I suggest we save them for future use.”

The master coughs. “Let’s see the other ones.”

Same results is seen with the next four crucibles, but for the fifth and sixth crucibles, those don’t burn at all with the sawdust. So the master soaks a wick in the crucibles instead and lights them, and they started burning moderately in a controlled bright yellow and orange flame, emitting little smoke and leaving some soot in the crucibles.

He assesses the product and remarks, “These ones qualify as high grade lamp oil.”

As for the seventh, eight, and ninth crucibles, the same scenario. It needs a wick to light up at all. They do burn brightly, but with thicker smoke and little smell, making them a little less suitable as lamp fuel. I suspect it’s the sulfur content that’s producing the effect. The consumed fuel oils leave the crucibles with much residue, painting them black with soot.

“These ones pass as medium grade lamp oil.”

For the tenth and eleventh crucibles, they do burn with a wick soaked to them, but with a thicker black smoke and a noxious smell. Like the last ones, the ignition of these oils left much black residue on the crucible. These ones are dirty oil.

“These ones are a little too dense, but burns well. I’d have to say, these ones are oils of the lowest grade.”

I’d like to say they’re more suited as lubricant oils, but if the master says they can be profitable as low grade oil, why not, although I point to him that those can be refined into lubricating oil, grease, petroleum jelly, soap, candle sticks and the like with an addition of a few chemicals. The usual reaction, the master just strokes his long frizzy beard, listening to whatever I say.

With the success of the experiment, the master gives his approval to distill the remaining buckets of crude oil. A disciple swaps the spent flask boiler with a bigger ceramic container, filled with a gallon or more of the crude substance. Then he shovels more coal to the stove, an amount proportional to the crude oil to be distilled. Next, he proceeds to clean the flask, dumping its contents out, but fails.

“Wait, apply heat to it.” I give him the instruction.

The disciple heats the flask. For the second time, he pounds the flask in an attempt to dump the waste product. Slowly, a goopy dark-brown substance flows out of the flask and mixes with the dirt upon contact.

“Let me try something.” I pour and mix a scoop of stone beads and dirt into the dark brown substance. The mixture cools down and solidifies into a rock-like object roughly the size of my small palm; that familiar thing that paves the roads of the 21st century, asphalt.

“Master, this waste product isn’t a waste product at all. In large quantities, it can be used to glue together gravel, making it an excellent material for paving down good flat roads. They’ll make rides smoother.”

Pokerfaced, the master just nods to my suggested use of the newly discovered material. Nevertheless, I can tell he is interested. He is all gung-ho, yelling orders at his disciples to complete the day’s work.

And as more hours pass by, the disciples become more proficient in the art, refining the method further by reducing the number of steps. We end up dividing the substances into four categories; gasoline, paraffin, diesel, and heavy dirty oil, which the master labels as explosive oil, high grade oil, medium grade oil, and low grade oil.

As the sun sets, we end up distilling five out of seven buckets of crude oil, producing 10 gallons of gasoline, 3 gallons of paraffin, 6 gallons of diesel, 2 gallons of heavy oil, and half a bucket of rough asphalt. Pretty rough, considering the technology, these are the only products we were able to produce out of the rough distillation procedure. Indeed, the process has to be refined further.

Part 3

Breakfast, Ricardo rudely devours the meal served at the table, while the rest of us eat our meal, quietly.

Nina cautiously watches and mimics the manner I eat and interact with the people on the table, although, the master doesn’t look particularly concerned about our table manners. Instead he, for his age, energetically reports the progress of his disciples’ work.

He says that they distilled the remaining buckets of oil, producing an additional 2 gallons of gasoline, half a gallon of paraffin and heavy oils, and a gallon of diesel.

I address the master, “Aren’t you worried, I’m taking advantage of you?”

He replies, “Not at all. It’s for my own benefit. Look, my disciples are more than happy to help you get as much of the products. They learn well, and forget not, I promised that I’ll help you transform Exteris. I’m not doing it for you alone, but for myself, for the people, and for the future of the kingdom.” The good old patriot never fail to inspire me of his nationalism, country before self.

“Very well. But I won’t be able to sleep at night should I treat you and your disciples unfairly. For such, I’m ready to pay due compensation when the venture becomes profitable. But be wary, you’re taking a risk.”

“The disciples will be happy to hear that.” I shake the master’s hand to settle the matter. In response, the master smiles warmly, which indeed is different compared to how he usually is when we are in his laboratory, working. His behavior is difficult to predict.

After breakfast and the conversation, we pack up. The master lends us a cart for the purpose of transporting the gallons of fuel oils. To penalize Ricardo for his gluttony, I task him pull the cart all the way to Hotel la Constance, where our good knight stays.

And off to Sir Albert’s we go. The roughness of the gravel paved road mercilessly pounds and shakes the cart and its cargo. Fortunately, the gallons have a tight cork seal on them to avoid spillage. For security, I have Artemis trailing Ricardo to monitor if the gallons are alright.

Just a few leagues after, Ricardo pants, breathing heavily as he drags the cart along, complaining. “Cut me some slack, kid!”

“You don’t deserve one. Beeeh!!” Nina sticks her tongue out, insulting the old man.

The old dog barks back at her, “*ugly, flat-chested, no-charm, tomboy!” Their eyes meet suddenly, shooting bolts of lightning that arcs back and forth between them.

Nina gives the old man a boot to the shin. “OUCH!” BAGGH! He drops the cart and jumps, fuming over the abuse. The ceramic gallons gets knocked and rolls to the side. Good thing, nothing breaks.

“Nina, Ricardo, please, knock it off. We have a job to do.” Nina turns her face away.

“HAHAHAHA! I didn’t know you have talent for circus. A monkey and a dog?” Artemis laughs hysterically.

“Shut up, ugly witch!” The two reply in unison. It becomes rowdy as the three fight with fiery and abusive words.

I may have bad eyes for recruiting people. These three have bad compatibility.

Finally, we reach Hotel la Constance. I proceed to meet the knight, Albert, in order to deliver to him the promised lamp oil. Along with another knight, the slick ones called Richard (was it?), he meets me at the entrance.

Jaws dropped, the two are in a daze seeing the cart load of lamp oil.

“The promise sum. You agreed, 6 gold coins.” I put my hand out.

The knights inspect the gallons and their content. Richard immediately runs to his room and comes back, holding a brass oil lamp. The knight pours paraffin in it and lights the wick. The flame burns brightly and cleanly, highly visible even in broad daylight.

Albert whispers, “Uhmm… Linus, I do not intend to deal with deceit. This much lamp oil costs more than we originally agreed.” He pulls a pouch from his coat and puts it in my hands. I receive 15 gold coins, 6 coins for the paraffin and 9 for the diesel.

“If this is how much you value these, then let me take advantage.” For now. Eventually, prices will drop due to the increase of supply. This is lamp oil for the commons.

Happy with the gains, we head back to our temporary residence here in Mercantium, Master Kong’s place. I give Ricardo and Artemis their advance, a gold coin each, and Nina gets a commission of a gold coin for her writing duty.

“Fools, don’t spend money recklessly, especially you, Ricardo.” The man scratches the back of his head upon hearing the warning.

Next, we stop by a money trader to change gold to silver coins. With a commission of two silvers plus one as tax, I gain 477 coins by trading the two gold coins in. And carefully carrying the bags of money, we head back to the master’s place.

I give the master a commission of one gold coin and distribute the 240 silver coins fairly to his disciples. The old house go wild with the sudden flood of money. Lesson learned, crude oil is black gold.

********************

Journey Day 7

Coalition defeats Crimson; Nina rescued

Western outskirts of Mercantium, the heroic coalition of the Young Master Linus and the gallant knight, Sir Albert Reginald set a raid in Crimson’s hideout with the help of Master Kong and his disciples, evening.

The young master employed his newly developed fire weapons called bombs and rockets to outwit the villain Crimson.

To give signals to the rest of the team, he launched the rockets up in the air. They exploded brilliantly, lighting the dark night sky with beautiful fire flowers.

While Sir Albert answered the call by detonating the explosives, which knocked important structures down, causing chaos and panic within the villain’s ranks.

Following the confusion, the knight snuck inside the villain’s fortress, rescuing Nina Fahrenheit, while the young master is left to deal with the villain.

He courageously fought the villain head on, nullifying its raging fire attacks with the miniaturized version of the bombs.

The explosion of the bombs canceled the waves of fire launched by the villain.

Defeated, the villain ran back to his fortress only to be blown up to bits by the bombs Sir Albert left in the cellars.

Journey Day 8

Young Master Linus refines crude Oil

East Mercantium, the Young Master Linus developed a method of extracting high grade oils from crude oil in cooperation of Master Kong and his disciples.

He commissioned the master and his disciples to build a fractional distiller, an apparatus that extracts oils from the crude oil by boiling, and tested it.

The experiment succeeded, extracting gallons high grade oil, medium grade oil, and low grade oils.

The young master wished that the discovery would provide jobs for the people of Exteris.