The Eccentric Entomologist is Now a Queen's Consort-Chapter 285 The Monster Cosmetic

The soft hum of Rodion's analysis filled Mikhailis's ears as he leaned over his makeshift alchemical setup, the sound a steady counterpoint to the crackle of the campfire behind him. The firelight flickered, casting long, shifting shadows over the array of vials, flasks, and crude equipment spread before him. Each piece gleamed faintly, a testament to his skill in salvaging what others might dismiss as useless junk. His hands moved with practiced precision, the calloused fingers of someone equally at home dissecting a rare insect or crafting something wholly unexpected.

His glasses glinted faintly, their lenses alive with faint data streams that only he could see. With a smirk, he adjusted the angle of a small flask, watching the liquid swirl inside with an iridescent shimmer.

<Viscosity optimal. Thermal stabilization achieved. Recommend proceeding with integration of botanical extract for scent and texture refinement.>

"Yeah, yeah, I got it," Mikhailis muttered under his breath, his tone light but tinged with the faintest hint of amusement. He reached for a small pouch of dried herbs, pinching out just enough to scatter into the bubbling mixture. The steam rose, carrying a subtle fragrance that softened the sharp, acrid notes lingering from earlier experiments.

The tension in his shoulders eased slightly as he fell into the familiar rhythm. Alchemy, like his insect studies, required patience and a keen eye for detail. The world around him faded into the background, replaced by the quiet satisfaction of creating something entirely his own.

This might be the closest I've come to peace all day.

He tilted his head, watching as the mixture darkened to a rich, almost metallic hue. A faint hiss escaped as the liquid settled into a steady simmer. His brow furrowed slightly, though the faint grin tugging at his lips betrayed his satisfaction.

<Temperature regulation within acceptable range. Monitor consistency; separation threshold nearing.>

"Don't need to nag," Mikhailis muttered again, flicking a glance toward his glasses as though Rodion could see the gesture. He grabbed a small spoon, stirring the mixture with gentle, deliberate movements. The swirling colors caught the firelight, creating a mesmerizing play of hues that seemed almost magical.

He stepped back briefly, letting the mixture settle as he prepared the next phase. His gaze drifted to the other containers—a translucent gel with a pale blue tint and another flask filled with shimmering cream. Both stood ready for their final touches, the culmination of his idle curiosity and restless energy.

Not bad for a guy killing time in the middle of nowhere.

<Next step: Extraction of bioluminescent residue for reflective enhancement. Ensure precision to avoid destabilization.>

"Got it," Mikhailis murmured, reaching for a set of tweezers and a small jar containing a faintly glowing substance he'd collected earlier. His movements were meticulous, each motion deliberate as he transferred a tiny amount of the residue into the mixture. The liquid brightened immediately, its glow soft but steady, like the light of distant stars.

He let out a low whistle, his grin widening. "Would you look at that? Almost makes me forget this stuff came from corrupted monsters."

<Reminder: The bioluminescence is a result of metabolic adaptation in the corrupted tissues. Primary function unknown, though aesthetic appeal is evident.>

"Aesthetic appeal, huh? Didn't know you had an eye for beauty, Rodion," Mikhailis quipped, his tone teasing as he adjusted the flame beneath the setup.

<Functionality over form. A sentiment you might benefit from adopting.>

Mikhailis barked a short laugh, shaking his head. "Touché."

He leaned closer, inspecting the mixture as it began to thicken. The cream's texture smoothed out, its surface catching the light in a way that made it seem almost otherworldly. It shimmered faintly, not overpowering but subtle enough to draw the eye.

Perfect.

With a satisfied nod, he moved to the translucent gel, repeating the process with the same care and precision. This one required a slightly different approach—less flair, more practicality. He adjusted the flame, stirring carefully to maintain the balance of ingredients. A faint herbal scent wafted upward, blending with the sharper notes of the cream to create something almost soothing.

<Consistency achieved. Scent and texture parameters optimal. Further refinement unnecessary.>

"Unnecessary, huh?" Mikhailis murmured, lifting the flask to eye level. He tilted it slightly, watching the gel's smooth, matte finish ripple like liquid silk. "Guess even you can't argue with perfection."

<Argument implies emotional investment. My assessment is purely objective.>

"Keep telling yourself that," he said, his grin softening as he carefully capped the flask and set it aside. The two finished products sat side by side, a testament to his ingenuity and, perhaps, a touch of his eccentricity.

He leaned back, his hands braced against the table as he surveyed his work. The soft glow of the cream and the cool elegance of the gel brought a rare sense of accomplishment.

It's not like I'm planning to sell any of this. Just something to pass the time… and maybe watch them squirm with curiosity.

<Reaction stable. Mixture achieving desired viscosity. Recommend adding .02 grams of mineral extract to balance the absorption rate.>

"Noted," Mikhailis murmured, reaching for the small pouch of powdered minerals. He measured out a precise amount and sprinkled it into the shimmering liquid, watching as it swirled into a soft, pearlescent glow.

He glanced at the second vial, the translucent gel he had been perfecting alongside the cream. Each served a different purpose—one to enhance natural beauty and another for practical protection against harsh elements.

"Balance is everything," he said under his breath, his voice carrying a playful tone even though his focus was sharp.

Mikhailis smirked.

Even Rodion's getting cheeky. Guess I'm rubbing off on it.

The cream began to stabilize, its glow becoming uniform as he stirred it gently. He held it up to the light, tilting the container to observe the viscosity.

"That's the glow-up formula," he muttered, placing it carefully onto a stand before turning his attention to the gel.

<Adjust pH balance by 0.3. Current acidity may cause mild irritation upon application.>

"Oh, can't have that," Mikhailis said, a chuckle escaping his lips. He adjusted the mixture, his movements fluid as if performing an intricate dance. With every step, he offered explanations—some directed at himself, others simply out of habit.

"See, the cream works by reflecting light in micro-layers. A little shimmer here, a soft highlight there… subtle but effective. As for this gel," he continued, pouring the viscous liquid into a flask, "it's about creating a barrier. Keeps moisture in, keeps toxins out. Perfect for harsh conditions. Or, you know, if you're being sprayed by monster ichor. A real selling point, don't you think?"

<You're aware no one is buying this, correct?>

Mikhailis chuckled. Of course, but they don't need to know that.

The gel finally reached the right consistency, its surface shimmering faintly under the firelight. Mikhailis leaned back, admiring his work. Two finished products sat before him—a testament to his boredom and ingenuity.

He turned to the group, who had been watching with varying degrees of skepticism and curiosity. Holding up both vials, he grinned.

"All right, who wants to be my first volunteer?"

For a moment, silence hung in the air. The women exchanged glances, their expressions ranging from incredulity to mild amusement. The crackling firelight illuminated their faces, painting a picture of skepticism, curiosity, and subtle camaraderie.

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"You're joking," Lira said, her voice calm and collected, the faintest arch of her brow betraying her doubt.

"Not at all," Mikhailis replied, his grin widening with a mischievous edge. He leaned slightly against his alchemical setup, holding the shimmering cream aloft like a prize. "You've seen me turn monster stew into a gourmet dish. This is practically the same thing—just, you know, for your face."

"That's not reassuring," Cerys muttered from her seat, arms crossed over her armor. Her piercing green eyes flicked between Mikhailis and the glowing concoction with a look that said she'd seen enough madness to know better than to volunteer.

Rhea, standing slightly apart from the group, tilted her head. Her calm demeanor masked a flicker of curiosity. "I'll do it," she said simply, stepping forward with measured grace.

"A brave soul," Mikhailis said with a dramatic flourish, gesturing to a makeshift seat he'd fashioned earlier. "Come, sit. Let's see if this glow-up cream really delivers."

Rhea settled onto the stool, her posture relaxed but her sharp eyes fixed on Mikhailis's hands. He took a small dab of the cream with his fingertips, its pearlescent sheen catching the firelight. The texture glided effortlessly, its smoothness almost hypnotic as he began to apply it to her face.

"This cream is no ordinary concoction," he began, his voice adopting the mock-serious tone of a merchant hawking rare wares. "It works by subtly reflecting light, creating micro-highlights that enhance your natural features. Think of it as a gentle glow-up—polished, radiant, but never overdone."

Rhea snorted softly, her lips curving into the faintest smirk. "I'll believe it when I see it."

Mikhailis worked with careful precision, his movements deliberate and almost tender as he smoothed the cream over her skin. It was a rare moment of seriousness for him, though the occasional quip kept the air light. "This stuff is so good, it might even make me look charming," he muttered under his breath.

As the cream set, a transformation began. A faint shimmer emerged, not garish but soft and ethereal. The highlights danced across Rhea's cheekbones and brow, subtly accentuating her features. Her skin took on a flawless quality, its natural tones amplified into something extraordinary yet believable.

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"Done," Mikhailis announced with a flourish, stepping back to admire his work. "Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you… the new and improved Rhea."

Rhea turned to face the group, her expression as calm as ever. But as the firelight illuminated her now-radiant face, the reactions were instant and unrestrained.

Estella's jaw dropped, her wide eyes fixed on Rhea. "Oh my gods," she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. "You look… amazing."

Lira's usually composed demeanor cracked as her eyes widened, her hand instinctively brushing her own cheek as though to compare. "That's… unexpected," she admitted, her voice tinged with reluctant admiration.

Even Cerys, the ever-stoic Lone Wolf, blinked in astonishment. She leaned forward slightly, her green eyes narrowing as though trying to spot the trick. "It's just cream," she said, her voice carrying a hint of skepticism. But the faint quirk of her lips suggested she wasn't entirely unaffected.

Mikhailis, ever the showman, spread his arms wide. "See? I told you. Now, who's next?"

Estella, practically bouncing on her toes, shot her hand into the air. "Me! I want to try the other one—the gel! What does it do?"

Mikhailis smirked, picking up the translucent gel and holding it up like a prize. "This one's all about practicality. It's a protective barrier, perfect for keeping your skin hydrated, safe from harsh elements, and maybe even a little resistant to monster ichor. A must-have for any adventurer or merchant."

He gestured for her to come closer, applying a small amount to her hands. The gel absorbed instantly, leaving behind a smooth, matte finish that seemed to defy the grit and grime of their surroundings.

Estella's eyes lit up as she rubbed her fingers together. "It feels… incredible. Soft, but not sticky. And it smells good, too!"

"Exactly," Mikhailis said, his tone triumphant. "The gel works on a molecular level to lock in moisture and repel toxins. Practical and luxurious—perfect for anyone who values both survival and style."

Lira, intrigued despite herself, stepped forward. "I'd like to see that for myself."

Mikhailis obliged, applying a small dab of gel to her hands. Lira's dark eyes softened slightly as she inspected the finish. "It's… effective," she admitted, her voice calm but with a faint edge of approval.

Cerys, who had been watching in silence, finally spoke. "It's practical," she said, her voice measured. "I could use something like this."

"Even the Lone Wolf has a soft side," Mikhailis teased, earning a sharp glare from Cerys. But the slight tilt of her head betrayed her interest.

Vyrelda scoffed, crossing her arms. "This is ridiculous," she said, though her subtle glances toward the products didn't go unnoticed.

Mikhailis smirked. "Ridiculous or revolutionary? You tell me."

The women began experimenting with the products, applying them to each other and marveling at the results. Estella and Lira shared delighted laughs as they admired their glowing complexions, while Cerys and Rhea exchanged bemused remarks about their unexpected transformations.

Mikhailis leaned back, watching the scene with a faint smile tugging at his lips. It was a rare moment of levity, the group's shared excitement breaking through the usual tension of their journey.

<Morale levels elevated. Group cohesion improved. Predictable outcome, considering your audience.>

Mikhailis chuckled softly, adjusting his glasses.

"I guess it's time," he murmured, his tone shifting to something more serious. He began packing the products carefully, his mind already turning to the next steps.