Dreaming Mushroom, Ruger thought.
He naturally still had some of those adorable little mushrooms. Back in the Nightmare World, he, Layden, and Vito had each received a share, but when he mentioned wanting more to brew potions, Vito had given him all of his. In the end, Layden had only taken a few to use as ingredients for that night's meal.
He composed himself and took inventory with his mental power. There were still eight little mushrooms of varying sizes.
He planned to keep six of them and follow in Old Lunse's footsteps by attempting to cultivate them. The other two would be used to brew fighter potions. Old Lunse's potion-brewing process replayed over and over in his mind. He was confident that two mushrooms would be enough—there might even be one left over.
With his hands behind his back, Ruger wandered through the crowded shelves of Old Lunse Potion Shop. In this small place, whenever he was watching the shop and got bored or tired of sitting, he would stroll around, examining the jumbled goods on the shelves. Old Lunse had never scolded him for it. He already had a rough idea of where some things were kept; of course, one could also say he did it to provide better service to customers.
His swaying stride suddenly changed. He turned sideways and slipped between the two narrowest shelves, then rounded another corner and selected several useful items from the lower shelves.
Then he ambled over to the old Counter, which only took in and never paid out, and tossed in exactly the right amount of magic stones according to the shelf prices.
Another wonderful day of shopkeeping begins, Ruger thought.
He went behind the Counter but did not sit down immediately. Instead, he stood straight and began today's full-body