The tall green-haired pharmacist sits in his office, bent over his desk as he writes vigorously. The sun has long been gone and the moon shines brightly, cascading through the window and casting light on his frail form. He scribbles notes in his journal, noting ingredients and writing hypotheses. His eyes have dark eyebags underneath and his hands are slightly shaky, making his handwriting untidy. He's exhausted, hardly staying awake as he continues writing. He's overworking himself, again.