Winning the Order at Full Price

"I've read it. It's required reading for beginners. Why?"

Flora gave him a strange look.

Lance clutched his chest in agony, feeling as though his heart was bleeding.

That was a full twenty silver coins!

If he'd known there was a mobile library here, why had he wasted that money?

"It's nothing... It just hurts a little."

After recovering for a moment, Lance shamelessly said,

"Then, could I borrow those books you mentioned to read later?"

"Of course. Aren't we friends?"

Flora agreed without hesitation.

In her view, books were meant to be read after being bought. Lending them to friends saved money and allowed for discussion—what was not to like?

"But speaking of that."

Flora pulled the topic back.

"While taking on a side profession is theoretically possible, very few people actually do it."

"Even combinations with vastly different fields, like a Swordsman also becoming a singer, still cause slight soul wear."

"And most importantly, side professions cannot provide growth in basic attributes."

To help Lance understand more intuitively, Flora picked up an empty wooden cup from the table.

"This cup is your body."

"Improving your main profession is like not only pouring water into it, but also constantly stretching the cup's walls, making it bigger so it can hold more water."

"As for a side profession..."

She pointed inside the cup.

"It's more like dye dripped into the water."

"It can change the water's color, giving you more functions and methods, but it won't increase the cup's capacity."

The analogy was extremely vivid.

Lance understood completely.

A main profession determined the upper limit of one's attributes and the foundation of one's growth. A side profession merely broadened the skill tree.

"Is there really no way to avoid soul wear?"

Lance pressed on.

If he wanted to make the most of the system's functions in the future, taking on side professions was practically inevitable.

Flora had already finished the chocolate ball and was using a handkerchief to wipe the traces from the corner of her mouth.

She thought seriously for a moment before answering,

"Of course there is a solution."

"Though I don't know the specific method."

"I've only read rumors in books that certain special professions are naturally immune to these penalties, or that some legendary alchemical potions might be able to do it."

Special professions...

Lance nodded thoughtfully.

Whether it was [Potion Research] or [Biological Research], these two system modules were like talent plugins additionally installed on him.

If he could make use of them through side professions, the resulting chemical reaction would undoubtedly be enormous.

As long as the so-called wear remained within an acceptable range, the deal would be worth it even with some penalties.

Just as he was still weighing the pros and cons,

the potion shop's front door was forcefully pushed open from outside.

The brass bell above the door rang urgently.

Lance instinctively turned to look.

A woman around forty strode in with great haste.

She had a striking mane of deep purple hair. Though faint lines of age had appeared at the corners of her eyes, it was still clear that she had been a great beauty in her youth.

She wore a sharply tailored dark brown leather vest over a white linen shirt, its sleeves rolled high to reveal fair yet powerful forearms.

This outfit made her look less like an alchemist who spent all day in a laboratory and more like an adventurer ready to draw her sword and start cutting people down at any moment.

The newcomer was Morwenna, the owner of this shop.

"Flora! I'm back!"

Morwenna's booming voice made the glass bottles on the counter tremble slightly.

She casually tossed the documents in her hand aside before noticing Lance sitting by the counter.

"Why are you here?"

Morwenna narrowed her eyes suspiciously, her gaze sweeping back and forth between Lance and Flora.

Her stare was as sharp as though she were examining some bad boy trying to abduct her little white rabbit.

But soon, as if she had thought of something, the scrutinizing expression on her face instantly melted away.

"Oh, you're here to ask about the results of that potion, right?"

Morwenna smiled, her grin so frank and warm that it made people feel like they were basking in a spring breeze.

"Yes, Aunt Morwenna."

Lance nodded obediently.

The next second,

an arm as sturdy as an iron pincer hooked directly around his neck.

An irresistible force followed. Lance was dragged over uncontrollably, his head immediately trapped beneath Morwenna's armpit.

Lance felt his cervical vertebrae crack, and his whole mind went blank.

Was this the strength of a professional?

Was this really the arm strength an alchemist should have?

Morwenna did not think there was anything inappropriate about her actions. With Lance tucked under her arm, she dragged him before Flora as if displaying a trophy, boasting proudly,

"This time, it was all thanks to this kid's potion!"

"In the category of wound-treatment medicines, the largest portion of the procurement list, we beat those bastards from the Silver Bottle Alchemy Firm!"

"And we reached the deal at the original price you told me yesterday—twenty-five copper coins. We didn't lower it by a single coin!"

"Really?!"

Although he was still trapped in Morwenna's arm and in a rather embarrassing position, Lance could not stop himself from crying out in delight.

He had won the bid at full price!

That was twenty-five copper coins!

After costs, he could painfully rake in seventeen and a half copper coins per jar!

"Of course it's true!"

Morwenna loosened her hold somewhat, but her arm remained draped over Lance's shoulder as though she were putting an arm around a good buddy.

"Though I didn't take a commission on your order. Consider it a favor."

"But riding the momentum of your Hemostatic Ointment, I also signed the orders for the remaining antidote and purification potions, status recovery potions, and the like."

"Those accompanying orders alone are enough for me to make a killing."

Morwenna smiled happily.

This was not just about money. It was also a chance to vent years of frustration from being suppressed by her old rival.

But just then,

the smile on Lance's face suddenly froze.

He remembered a crucial question.

"Um... Aunt Morwenna."

Lance asked carefully, his voice carrying an almost imperceptible tremble.

"Since it's the largest wound-treatment medicine order... how many orders did you negotiate in total?"

The maximum production capacity he had calculated last night surfaced in his mind.

Twelve hours—at the absolute limit, he could only make 144 jars.

Hearing this, Morwenna slowly released him from the crook of her arm.

She placed both hands on Lance's shoulders, and her once-smiling face gradually drew closer.

Though her lips still curved in a smile, Lance somehow felt a chill.

"Since you dared have Flora submit your sample for the bid, you must already have a large stockpile at home, right?"