Grim Howlett's Arc

Chapter 3 of 5

Grim locked the shack and headed toward the old chemist's shop at the edge of town. His notes had shown him how to brew stronger coffee, but they hadn't explained why it worked on his body. He needed someone who understood compounds, reactions—the science behind it all. The shop's door hung crooked on its hinges. Inside, glass vials lined the walls, each one filled with powders or liquids in different colors. He spotted a scale on the counter, the kind used for measuring precise amounts. If he could break down what was in coffee—isolate the exact chemical that calmed the monster—he might finally understand it. Grim grabbed three empty vials from a shelf and filled them with ground beans from his coat pocket. Dark roast in one, medium in another, light in the third. He set them on the scale one at a time and watched the needle shift. The weight was different for each. That meant the roasting changed the bean's composition, not just the flavor. He needed to test what was left behind after brewing—see what dissolved into the water and what stayed in the grounds. This place had what he needed. He could run real experiments here, track the monster's reaction to isolated compounds instead of whole cups. The answer was chemical, and now he had the tools to find it. He left the shop with the vials tucked in his coat and walked through town. A skull sign jutted from the dirt ahead, its eye sockets glowing faint green. Moss covered the bone, and one bony finger pointed down a side path. The museum. Grim had been there before for old books, but maybe they had more—records of other creatures, other cures. He followed the sign's direction and pushed through the heavy door. The main hall held display cases filled with teeth, claws, and preserved organs. But in the back corner stood something different—a statue of a creature holding a steaming cup, its features bright and exaggerated. A plaque beneath it read about researchers who first learned how plants could control darkness. Coffee wasn't his discovery. Others had figured this out long before him. Grim stared at the statue and felt his chest tighten. If someone had already solved this, where were their notes? He searched the shelves nearby and found nothing useful—just old stories and legends, no real science. The statue mocked him with its frozen grin. He turned and left, his claws scraping against the doorframe. Outside, the skull sign pointed back toward the center of town. He followed it without thinking, his mind still on the researchers. They must have gathered somewhere to share what they learned. Somewhere people talked about this. He found it two streets over—a small building with crooked walls and mismatched furniture inside. Creatures sat at tables with cups in front of them, talking in low voices. This was where coffee drinkers met, where they shared brewing methods and compared blends. Grim walked in and nobody looked twice at him. He sat at an empty table and listened. One creature described a blend that kept their scales from shedding. Another mentioned a roast that stopped their night terrors. Everyone here had their own reason for drinking, their own monster to quiet. Grim pulled out his notebook and wrote down everything he heard. The answer wasn't just chemical—it was specific to each monster. He needed to stop looking for a universal truth and start mapping his own body's reaction. The chemist's shop had the tools. This place had the proof that others were asking the same questions. He finally had a direction forward.