Just as I came in contact with the goop, things seemed to flip upside down. To be precise, I was the thing now upside down and falling... up?


    I splatted against the open ceiling supports and now had the full attention of the alchemists.


    "Uhh, Jack... it feels so weird calling a slime, Jack... Did you by any chance eat some anti-grounding potion?" The notably annoyed voice carried up in my direction.


    ''If it was pink and open, perhaps I have.'' Having reversed gravity was extremely disorienting. As a slime, I had some other weird sense of "uprightness" that wasn''t based on gravitational orientation, and my up was my down and vice versa at the same time. Really, I couldn''t calm my slimy body down at all; I thrashed a bit around, fighting my body''s almost convulsing warbling before the effect very abruptly ended and I splatted back onto the counter with a familiar plap that sounded like wet dough getting tossed onto a counter.


    ''I don''t think I want to do that again.'' I mutter to my audience, who seem to watch on in a bit of an amused manner from my antics.


    I manage to regain my calm state after a bit and take note of the slightly lighter mood. Perhaps my wild and clueless nature served to relieve a bit of stress from the alchemist''s minds. The vial I had taken a taste of had been reduced by almost none at all, and several other vials were also open. It''s here where I also see a vial filled with an impossibly violet dust that is upside down, differentiating it from any of the others in my view.


    Deciding not to take another risk with myself as collateral, I asked, ''What is this vial filled with?''


    I was promptly ignored... Kind of rude...


    I was going to make a fuss about it until the four separated and the three who arrived after my painful awakening departed. The man who had been slicing me to ribbons walked over and leaned in to inspect my now night-and-day transformation from opaque and dirty to clean and readily transparent. Nodding at my recovery, he went about his activities whilst speaking to me and answering questions, which were bottomless.


    "That vial is containing the tainted bone marrow from an essence-based overlord. Its properties make it react negatively to mana, and thus it floats. The vial it''s in is also made of mana-insulated glass; otherwise, it''d scatter everywhere and anywhere that there was the slightest amount less mana." He''d taken on answering questions more fully to reduce the number of questions I asked, and much to my pleasure, it worked.


    ''How many potions are here? Are they easy to make? How are you supplied? Could I make one? Does mana impact the result? What is the most difficult potion to craft? Do potions react poorly with one another? What happens if you mix fire resistance with a fire potion? What''s up with the mixed potions? What is the base for a potion? Is there something like potion sickness? What''s your name? What''s up with the sickness outside? I also overheard mention of an antidote. Why-''


    "PAUSE! Pause..." He scratched his head, taking a seat on a stool he pulled out from the island. "There are some things I will refrain from sharing with you. Personally, I didn''t know what you were, but my supervisor, Chriss, understood and clued the rest of us in. While you were messing around with an open vial earlier—which we highly disapprove of and only haven''t taken reprisal action against you because of your apparent built goodwill—Chriss spoke of a note that came with your acquisition listing what an amazing tool you were, your previous owners, and several other details. She also mentioned that it stated the first person who exchanged hands with you supposedly described you as a reincarnation, and, after extensive testing, it was deemed false. Now, obviously, that isn''t true. And on the topic of your acquisition, you were apparently handed around through several owners before ending up here after your supposed use became gradually more and more nonexistent."


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    Wow, what an info dump this chem-boy just dropped on me. Was I just a useful tool? Best get what''s important, asked, I guess.


    ''Does the note tell how long I was handed down for?''


    "You''ll need to talk to Chriss tomorrow; she''s the only person who could both know what can and can not be shared with you and what the full contents of the note are. However, my name, on the other hand, is of course mine to speak." He chuckled a bit. "My name''s also Jack."


    We chuckled together a bit, and awkward silence ensued. Breaking the weird tension that came from the revelation, I reached a tendril out and hoped he''d understand the gesture. It took a moment and as he reached to shake my tendril I said, ''Nice to meet you, Jack.''


    Jack 2 said something, but I only heard it as gibberish until a little later his voice came after his lips had moved, "Touche." My guess was the translation struggled a bit with whatever the equivalent was for the saying.


    ''So, uh, come here often?'' I smiled internally as he chuckled a bit more.


    "Only every day."


    Retracting my noodle arm, I inquired, ''I''m a bit curious about what precisely your job position is. From what I understand, you are an alchemist, but maybe there is something along the lines of researcher, scientist, or some other title that would suit your position better.''


    He thought for a moment before replying, "These... "words" you''ve thrown into my mind don''t hold any specific definition in my language, but as far as the three concepts you''ve provided, I think maybe a combination of "Researcher" and "Alchemist" would accurately describe what I am." He gave some pause for more thought before continuing, "What I find most fascinating though is that I could speak "Researcher" and "Alchemist" despite not knowing the words or their precise meanings; something is doing that for me!"


    ''Very interesting indeed, I did not know my skill would allow for others to use words from English in whatever temporary state this is. For that matter, I''d like you to try and remember those two words and how they''re said and attempt to repeat them tomorrow.''


    "Ok." He nodded. "I''ll be heading off to the bunks now; see you in the morning!"


    Before I could even project my situation of being alone for several hours or that I had nothing to do or what I should and shouldn''t do, he scuttled off and out the door with surprising speed.


    As it turns out rather obviously, having nothing to do is in fact very boring, and thus I found myself doing the very thing I could imagine my "tool form" being. An overglorified mop. I hopped and plopped right onto the floor to slide and roll about, eating the dust bunnies and other miscellaneous debris. As a bit of an addition to my task of cleaning the floors, I also suctioned onto some lost jars and vials below the bottom shelves. Some of them were even full and only left unspilled because of the corks securing their contents.


    I deposited the various containers at one of the inner corners of an elbow protrusion in the lab. These counter-height workspaces seemed to extend for ages, but eventually I ended up with two piles of lost goods at each end of the lab. I swear it looked like it was 1,000 feet long, but my calculated size and number of rotations from one end to the other clued me in on it only being about 90 feet.