New Potion (Part 1)

The morning air was exceptionally fresh. A heavy rain had just fallen, and the moment one pushed open the door, that chilly breath of air immediately woke them up.

What was somewhat vexing, however, was that the rain had brought wind with it. Though the wind was not strong, when it whipped raindrops into one's face, it hurt as if knives were scraping across the skin.

What filled the sky was hardly rain at all. Mixed with the wind, it was practically a shower of little blades.

Thus, the pedestrians on Rika Town's streets were all hurrying along today. Even those who occasionally came out to work moved several times faster than usual, rushing through their tasks before heading back. No one wanted to remain outside in such dreadful weather for even a moment longer.

Romon watched thoughtfully.

Under normal circumstances, in weather this terrible, even powerful Magic Beasts and Bear Goblins would hide deep away rather than go searching for food. Adventurers tasked with hunting them naturally would not make trouble for themselves by entering the forest to waste their effort.

Yet some adventurers still continued to leave town for reasons unknown. They had wrapped themselves up tightly and hurried down the roads.

Looking toward Thorn Forest, Romon had always found it strange—what was there? What made it so alluring? Or did it hold mysteries he did not understand?

Of course, most adventurers remained in town. Today, they had all gathered at the Motte Inn to drink and indulge themselves.

The Motte Inn was destined to be exceptionally lively today.

Even Romon had broken habit and not gone into the forest to practice martial skills. Instead, he stayed curled up in his room, propping his chin on his hand as he stared blankly into space.

At that moment, an old ledger lay open on the wooden table before him. The few sparse lines of writing upon it constantly reminded him just how bleak the potion shop's business had become.

These were the potion shop's income records for the past several days. What depressed Romon was that, although quite a few adventurers had been injured lately, his shop had actually sold fewer potions than it had before.

From what Nick had said, the root of it all was the potion shop across the street.

After operating at low profits for a time, that potion shop had lowered its prices even further. Many of its special-effect potions were even about ten percent cheaper than Romon's.

Ten percent was not merely a number. A bottle of potion with the effect of Cure Minor Wounds cost around ten silver coins and lasted for a month.

A ten percent reduction meant nine silver coins. Do not underestimate that single silver coin—it was enough to tempt most adventurers. After all, who would pick a fight with money? Potions were often used while adventuring, and over time, that added up to no small expense!

Besides, a single silver coin was enough to stay at the Motte Inn for a day. Thus, apart from a mere handful of adventurers, everyone else had flocked to buy from the shop across the street.

"Are they trying to start a price war with me?" Though such things were common among competing merchants on Earth, Romon's expression still darkened.

This shop meant far too much to Romon. It was the first shop he had opened, carrying his hopes and dreams.

He truly wanted to build this potion shop up. Therefore, even if others did not drive it out of business, he still had to quickly come up with a new solution—one that could reverse his current disadvantage.

But that was easier said than done.

Not to mention that he was only a Second-Level Druid. There was already a vast gap in strength between him and Jefa, a Fifth Level Druid. As a Druid's level rose, they mastered more spells and techniques, and Jefa far surpassed him in potion-making and knowledge of medicinal properties.

Jefa could use his power more efficiently, making his potion costs roughly ten percent lower than Romon's. Moreover, Romon's success rate when brewing potions was certainly nowhere near as high as Jefa's.

Even Jefa's female apprentice, under Jefa's guidance, was likely not much less skilled than Romon at brewing potions. She might even be better.

Furthermore, they were merely practicing and familiarizing themselves with medicinal properties, while he had to worry about the potion shop's operations, train his martial skills, and study the Temple's books.

More frightening still, that Fifth Level Druid had already established greenhouses and a laboratory, keeping production costs extremely low.

When all these factors were compared, the superior and inferior sides became obvious at a glance. If Romon had not possessed the Shennong Horn Space, allowing him to produce raw materials at virtually no cost, he would not even have been qualified to compete.

Though the costs were low, there would be no profit if he could not sell anything!

"What can I do to reverse this disadvantage?" Romon closed his eyes and carefully recalled everything he had seen and heard in his previous life.

What policy should he adopt? That was an enormous problem. He absolutely could not follow them into a price war, but if he did not, how was he supposed to fight?

Recalling the things he had witnessed in his previous life, Romon opened his eyes and made up his mind.

He still had to reduce costs!

But he needed to find a plausible way to reduce potion-brewing costs. He had to use fewer ingredients to make more effective potions. That way, he could not only win customers, but also avoid weakening himself in the competition with his opponent.

"Then that's what I'll do!" Although he did not yet have a specific method, once he had a goal and was no longer lost, his spirits naturally improved considerably.

Only then did Romon realize he was hungry. Patting his stomach helplessly, he casually picked up a pastry and put it into his mouth.

It tasted delicious. Mrs. Motte's cooking was truly beyond reproach. Nick and the others had brought it back for him when they went shopping that morning, and it was still warm when he ate it.

Romon swallowed it in a few bites, and his spirits immediately rose.

Suddenly, a burst of commotion caught his attention.

"Your shop's potions are obviously no good! They were supposedly brewed by a Druid too! If you ask me, it's all a scam!" A man stood at the entrance of Romon's potion shop, shouting loudly.

His booming voice immediately drew a large crowd of onlookers.

"What's going on?"

"What happened?"

"I don't know either. I just got here myself!"

Gossip truly was human nature. In such freezing weather, quite a few people still braved the knife-like wind to come watch.

Seeing that people were watching, the young man became even bolder. He casually tossed a bag of medicine onto the potion shop's counter, then loudly declared, "What are you going to do about this? My brother took your medicine yesterday, and not only did he not get better, his condition worsened! How is this medicine meant to save people? It's clearly poison!"

As he spoke, he pointed beside him. Sure enough, someone wrapped up tightly stood there. When the young man pointed at him, he coughed several times, proving that his condition had indeed worsened.

The townspeople immediately erupted in an uproar.

"You're talking nonsense!" Nick stood at the shop entrance. Facing the accusations and the crowd's puzzled gazes, his face had reddened with anger. "The potions in my shop are all carefully prepared. No one else has had any problems, so why is your brother the only one?"

After thinking it over, he remembered that he was now the shop manager and had to consider the bigger picture. He suppressed his anger and said, "How about this? I'll invite your brother inside and have Romon examine him, so everyone present can see for themselves. If the examination proves that his condition truly worsened because of our shop's potion, then our shop is willing to compensate for all losses. But if that is not the case..."

"Th-this..." The man immediately hesitated. He had thought a young boy would be easy to bully, but he had not expected him to be so troublesome. He and that other man had both been paid to make trouble. How could either of them actually be sick?

Thus, he glanced toward the crowd. Someone in the crowd gave him a look, and he immediately understood. He burst into laughter.

"Don't try that with me. If we go into your shop, won't we be at your mercy? Romon himself is the owner of this shop, so how am I supposed to trust him? Everyone!" He turned and shouted at the crowd, "This shop is ripping people off! They sell nothing but fake medicine, so don't be fooled again!"

The onlookers began discussing it after hearing those words. Just as Nick was so angry he could not speak, a middle-aged man suddenly walked in from outside the crowd.

"What is going on here?" Fifth Level Druid Jefa stared at the farce before him, his face as dark as water, and asked coldly.

"My lord, it's like this..." The moment the young man saw Jefa, he immediately shrank back. Jefa was not like Romon. Romon was merely a Second-Level Druid with no background whatsoever, while Jefa was already a Fifth Level Druid.

Once any profession reached the Fifth Level, one gained considerable privileges. This was a world ruled by strength.

After the young man repeated what he had said to Jefa, the Druid whom he had expected to take his side and oppose Romon instead turned a sharp gaze toward the "patient."

"He is not sick at all." Jefa made his judgment after only one glance.

Unlike doctors on Earth, Druids possessed extraordinary sensitivity to the aura of life. Merely sensing someone from a distance was enough to determine whether that person was ill.

Of course, the strength of that judgment was directly related to the Druid's level.

Since Fifth Level Druid Jefa had said so, that person was certainly not ill. Besides, in everyone's eyes, Jefa and Romon were rivals, so there was no question of Jefa making excuses for Romon.

Thus, the final result was naturally that those people slunk away in disgrace.

"Master Jefa, thank you for your help." Romon, who had hurried over from the back courtyard and learned of the matter, sincerely thanked Jefa.

Jefa merely snorted softly. He did not even respond, leaving with an indifferent expression.

"This man really is..." Romon shook his head and could not help giving a bitter smile.

Yet as he turned to enter the shop, a figure in the distance made him furrow his brow.

"So it was him..." The tax officer was mixed among the crowd, walking away into the distance.

His appearance at this moment truly set Romon thinking. Bakar, it seems I really cannot keep you alive. I must deal with you quickly. Otherwise, if you come make trouble every time, it will be quite a nuisance...

If his previous solution had not necessarily required killing Bakar, now Romon's heart had turned in that direction.

A dim flame rose in his eyes. After pondering for a moment, a cold smile appeared.

I'll let you live a few more days.

!!