“Hand me your pill," the judge commanded, his tone grave.

“Y-Yes... Yes. Here you are, please,” Isla stammered nervously.

It was common knowledge that she had once been the lowliest servant in the Jenkins household, completely devoid of the qualifications to pursue the ancient martial arts.

The judge cast a cursory glance at the tray holding the Concentration Pill, dismissing it without much thought.

After all, he had just inspected the pills crafted by Barbara and Vivian. Barbara's performance had been astonishing, with her Concentration Pill boasting an efficacy rate of 89% compared to perfection. She could be hailed as a prodigy!

Vivian's performance was also commendable, especially considering her relatively short tenure in the field of alchemy. To produce a standard Concentration Pill with an efficacy rate of 69%, nearing perfection, showcased her great potential.

“Just give it a casual check," the judge murmured to himself. Swiftly, the scanner delved into the analysis of Isla's Concentration Pill, emitting an immediate and crisp "ding" sound.

“Isla has created a standard version of the Concentration Pill. Its efficacy is... Well... The efficacy..."

The judge was on the verge of announcing the outcome of the efficacy analysis when the words caught in his throat.

“What's the matter, Mr. Figueroa?" inquired Reuben with curiosity. Finnegan Figueroa, this particular judge, had been hired by the Jenkins family from the esteemed Pill Alchemist Association, commanding a lofty salary to ensure the fairness of the competition.

Within the Pill Alchemist Association, Finnegan held the responsibility of evaluating the capabilities of intermediate and lower-level pill alchemists, entailing rigorous tests and analyses of Concentration Pill efficacy hundreds of times a year.

Under normal circumstances, Finnegan would never make an error when utilizing the professional tools of the esteemed Pill Alchemist Association to analyze the pill's effectiveness.

Yet, in this very moment, he found himself engulfed in profound self-doubt.

“Wait a moment. I must reboot the scanner and reevaluate the efficacy." Reuben grew perplexed and muttered to himself, “Are you playing games at the cybercafe? If there's an issue with the device, you can simply reboot it, can't you?"

However, given Finnegan's professional standing, Reuben didn't dare to speak out of turn.

Once the scanner was rebooted, Finnegan commenced the meticulous analysis of the Concentration Pill crafted by Isla, proceeding with utmost caution.

As time ticked by, Finnegan's eyes widened, beads of sweat forming on his brow and his hands even trembled ever so slightly.

Nevertheless, in the end, he appeared to have arrived at a definitive conclusion.

"Mr. Figueroa, please expedite the process," implored Reuben with impatience, before realizing that something was amiss.

“Oh... Oh..."

Prompted by Reuben, Finnegan did not grow irate.

He swallowed hard and took several deep breaths to restore his composure.

“Isla has produced a standard rendition of the Concentration Pill. Its efficacy stands at an impressive 85% of perfection."

A collective gasp swept through the room as everyone was struck with astonishment upon hearing this revelation.