Master and Apprentices: Rise of the Cheat Potion Maker #2
Master and Apprentices: Chapter 3

Iexamined the place, but it wasn’t a magician-exclusive den or anything. The restaurant didn’t look too special with a standard, if not Edo period décor. The city itself had a mix of perhaps Chinese and Victorian-style buildings with a reddish color scheme likely to honor their Red Star. However, what set this place apart was its people. A table of loud dwarves swallowed down mugs of ale while discussing blacksmithing, making jokes about their wives and sometimes even looking over their shoulders to make sure said wife hadn’t suddenly walked through the door. Another table had what I assumed were dark elves, male and female. Black hair of numerous hairstyles, dark brown skin, eye colors ranging from weird purple to pale gray. Also, the mana felt weird in their direction. Another table sat a mix of human, elf, dwarf, and what appeared to be a blue-skinned man wearing a robe. The others of that table had varying armor. The place was mostly human, but there were the occasional part-beast or beastkin person that walked through every now and then. Even a wolf girl, a woman with wolf ears, a wolf tail, light leather armor, and various daggers strapped to her side.

If the hints didn’t make it obvious enough, then I’d just go back to the town and hide in a hole.

“This is some kind of adventurer hangout spot,” I stated, voice almost in awe.

“Sure is,” Milia said. “It just happens to have my favorite orange spirit plum wine. It’s been a while since I had it.”

“What are you staring at, loser?” a buff man in golden armor snapped. It took me a moment to realize he was talking to me.

Rather than be the cause of a commotion, I turned back to my food, shaking my head. I didn’t even see the guy until just now, but he was one of those.

I grabbed my own wine cup, preparing to take a gulp, when the sense of danger engulfed me. I leapt backward just in time for a fucking mace to crash onto my side of the table. Wood exploded into all directions.

“Hey, what the hell is your problem?” I snapped at the golden-armored fuck. Now, everyone saw me dodge that attack. The only reason why I didn’t block it was because one, a fucking mace, but two, I tried to be a little incognito while minding my own business, spend time with my betrothed, that sort of thing. This guy essentially attacked me for no reason.

However, the waitress appeared, eyes cold as she looked at the half-destroyed table and then the golden-armored fuck that I realized was drunk out of his mind.

A ridiculously powerful killing intent covered the restaurant, followed by a monstrous blue-white aura. The next thing I witnessed was a man who had to be at least three hundred pounds and more with the armor, get flung out the door at rocket speed with just one palm.

“The Lotus Palm,” someone said. “He’s going to be feeling that even a week from now.”

“Serves him right, getting drunk like that,” another person said.

The waitress’s aura vanished as she turned to me, her expression bland again. Long black hair, brown eyes, and a height of five feet made up her general appearance. She also wore what appeared to be some kind of maid outfit.

I didn’t stare at her too long, not wanting to be the target of that attack, but one quick stealthy analyze surprised me. It surprised me because I couldn’t analyze her! It could be a special skill or an item responsible for the shielding, or she was simply the first person that I ran into far beyond my current realm.

“Apologies,” she said, deadpan. Her eyes briefly widened at me, she even went pale, which could only mean one thing, but the flustering lasted just a brief moment as she cleared her throat. “Please allow us to replace your table. Every now and then, adventurers drink too much. Including S-ranked adventurers. But tossing them out like filthy rags is what I live for.”

Did I really just replace the sadistic maid?

She took us to a different table, gave us some food and drink on the house, and soon Milia and I were back to having a good time. No one paid us any attention nor mentioned my reflexes, probably because any adventurer with heightened survival instincts would dodge a mace that moved much faster than physically possible. They ate various dishes, drank, and left. One thing I noticed was that absolutely no one, regardless of how drunk they got this early, caused further trouble.

The waitress lady scanning me for some reason did put me on guard, but she returned to doing her job as if I didn’t exist. And soon, Milia and I paid for our meals and left.

“Those prices were way lower than the food stalls in Kyushu,” I told Milia as we turned down another lively street.

“It shows we’ve got quite the battle ahead of us to bring down the prices,” Milia said. “I’m still in the process of investigating the few minor nobles in Kyushu. It doesn’t seem like a place ripe for corruption, but if they’re the reason why honey is more than five times the price in Kyushu compared to anywhere else, well.” She patted a fist against her hand. “Let’s just say, exposing them will involve just a little pain.”

I chuckled. “Try not to go all dominatrix with your vine whips.”

“Domi-what?” Milia said, tilting her head.

“Nothing,” I said quickly, not wanting to give my fiancée any funny ideas. I changed the subject. “So where should we go next? Should we start scoping out our competition?”

“Probably,” Milia replied. “In fact, there’s a shop right there.”

“Sounds like a plan, let’s go.”

When we entered, the scent of burned… something, hit me like the feeling of getting punched in the nose. The small shop seemed to be made of pure concrete or stone with wooden shelves lined up with a plethora of potions. Red, green, blue, pink, you name it. In terms of organization, it was far less organized than mine. There were no labels on the bottles, not even the shelves. Despite the mess, there waited a decent line of adventurers looking to pay for their items. From potions, to random potted shrubs, to what looked like well-endowed red cucumber-like plants. A red-haired elf girl looked to her left and right before picking up a pot and getting in line. The system took this sweet ass time to rub this shop’s success right in my face, by revealing my own mediocrity.

[Your potion shop’s rank is currently E, with the lowest rank being F. You gained a rank for having daily customers, but by limiting yourself to Kyushu and not capitulating to the town’s inflation, you failed to rise higher. A shame, really. This shop’s rank is C, far superior to yours.]

My eye twitched at the audacity of the prompt, but I kept my expression neutral. An E-ranked shop, ouch. Fuck, I felt like I’d been doing a great job so far for a new shop owner, but apparently this wasn’t good enough for the system.

“Should we buy anything?” Milia asked, completely oblivious to the system’s comment of this unorganized mess of a shop being far superior to ours. But I did see the subtext of what it meant. There were numerous potions and even ingredients for sale, likely for either rookie potion makers or alchemists. The customers were adventurers, at that.

Sure, we had earned ourselves the fucking hero’s party as customers, which was a start if anything, but it wouldn’t be enough. Normally, I’d toss it to the old age wisdom of giving a fuck costing too much energy. However, the viciousness, the condescension of that prompt struck a nerve and ignited the pride within. If I was going to be a potion maker and a shopkeeper, I needed to be competitive. And most importantly, I needed to become an S-ranked shop.

What the hell was the point of having ridiculously high-quality and high-ranked potions if the dickish system gave my entire home a low grade?

“Let’s go,” I told Milia. “I think we’ve got more competition to check out. If you don’t mind, of course.”

“We’re in this together,” she said, surprising me with the flame of determination in her eyes. Apparently she sensed the prosperity of this place as well. Or so I assumed.

[Wingston is a C-ranked small city. Kyushu is an F-ranked small town. But upgrading a town may be beyond your capabilities right now, especially while you’re manning a measly E-ranked shop.]

That… that prompt dropped by the system was everything I needed to solve the inflation problem. Or at least it’d contribute heavily. No… perhaps I’d have to make the first move. Check out all of the buildings available on the cube, purchase the essentials, and upgrade those. Maybe an option for upgrading the town would come later. Hopefully it didn’t require me to become lord of the town or mayor. City lord life was not for me.

[What you believe is not for you does not matter. It is okay to bend fate and use it to your advantage at the same time.]

I almost flinched, having the system directly respond to a stray thought, but when I tried to inquire about anything, it remained silent. However, the new goal was set. To improve conditions in Kyushu or at least push it toward prosperity, replace a way to upgrade it. The prompt surely wouldn’t try to push city lord shit onto me. I’ve had way too much of a handful just learning potions. After replaceing out shops were ranked and mine, despite all of the hard work, was just a fucking E-rank.

I had to get just a bit greedy for the first time since I found myself in this world. I wanted a peaceful life, but also my hard work to be the best that it could be. If E-rank was a reflection of an unfinished project, then I’d push for completion. I’d add to it.

Hopefully it didn’t do something ridiculous as rank my apprentices. I waited for the stray thought to trigger something, but to my relief, that didn’t happen. Realms were already bad enough. I did not need to see them as grades due to the system.

“By the way, what’s the name of that waitress?” I asked.

“Waitress?”

“You know, back at the restaurant,” I said. “I’m actually still amused at how she tossed the gold giant like it was just another day.”

Milia laughed. “Oh, you mean the serving girl who is no mere serving girl, but the actual owner of the establishment. She’s Anzu, but everyone calls her Lady Reaperess.”

My eyes widened before I burst into laughter. Milia only shrugged, grinning.

“I like it,” I said. “She reaps the souls of any idiots disturbing the peace.”

We ended up visiting every potion shop in the city, all five of them, and each time, I grew more depressed. They were each very different, though only one used labels and it was just a C-ranker. The ranks were all C or B, nothing close to my shame of being a mere E. But as I thought about my situation, I realized I seriously needed to upgrade my setup. I used basic cauldrons bought from an F-ranked town. The special cauldron incoming was due to a favor, but now… I’d have to put in a lot more orders. Nia, the badass blacksmith, would see a serious payday. I’d send Lucas to help her out for further practice until I got the half-dwarf his own forge. Hopefully it wouldn’t cost me too many spirit coins.

Fuck. The thought of spirit coins annoyed me. Either I get them from other magicians by selling something worth a fortune, or run powerful dungeons. I considered maybe a B-ranker, but deep down, I just knew only an A-rank or above would provide the necessary spirit coins to afford any expensive purchase.

I was about to suggest going to the Wingston manor—plenty of overheard conversations revealed their location—when a group of performers caught my attention. I gently grabbed Milia’s hand and led her to the gathering. We joined the growing crowd. A dwarf man began to play a lute, while his companions danced and collected coppers people tossed with hats or jars.

Needless to say, the song he sang was both hilarious, lewd, and involved orcs dancing on a giant version of Wanda’s butt, with long-chinned men doing… You know what, I didn’t understand half of the things the dwarf sang. I wondered for a second if someone fed him fairy sprinkles.

And I thought I cursed a lot. I had nothing on the dwarves who used words that probably translated to things that would make even the demons in hell blush. To think I had to put up with nagging from my ex’s grandma and her sugar daddy named Arizonutt over such a thing. The guy hated profanity, especially with young females. Someone needed to pull the 1950s stick out of his crack.

Anyway, after buying a few things for Milia and me, a lot of things actually, we stored the goods in our storage rings and finally started to the Wingston manor.

Gaston glared at his butler, frustrated with the latest news of disappointment coming from the main branch. His request to seek an audience with even just a scribe of the emperor continued to be ignored. As if that wasn’t enough, his betrothed’s mother, the Red Star, brownnosed him to the point he just wanted to do things to her.

Unfortunately, Gaston was absolutely terrified of her. He still asked the others weekly why his father decided to move to this annoying small city and then tie him to the daughter of a magician that could roast him alive.

Then there were the rumors of Gaston being one of the biggest slimeballs of the night. Well of course he’d sleep around. His so-called betrothed and the Red Star, actually all of the women of that wretched family, followed some idiotic nonsensical tradition in regard to maintaining their purity until marriage. Honestly, he didn’t give a damn anyway. Mandi was cute, but almost flat. If it weren’t for the Red Star dictating this politically arrange marriage between the families, Gaston would’ve fled, perhaps taking a lonely lass with him.

Fed up with the endless stream of bad news, he decided he needed to take that frustration out on someone. As long as they weren’t a part of the Wingston family, nothing would happen.

He stepped out of his home and just several meters away, he noticed a white-haired man and an incredibly beautiful green-haired woman walking leisurely down the street. They appeared to be heading in the direction of the Wingston manner. If that was all, Gaston wouldn’t have given a rat’s ass. Many people walked this street, after all.

He wasn’t a magician or anything, but something felt off about the two. Ah well, they would be perfect targets to make his men beat up. The man, that was. He’d take the woman, offer her a night of luxury and bliss. Maybe he’d take her right in front of the man she’d dump. This wouldn’t be the first time he exposed a woman’s greed. And he doubted it’d be the last.

“I wouldn’t if I were you,” his butler warned, but Gaston waved off his comment.

“They’re just commoners, perhaps peasants,” Gaston snapped. “I feel like having some fun and that woman’s got everything I’m looking for. The man may be buff, but he cannot handle twelve guards.” He stepped outside and shouted, “Guards, let’s go. Just a small group. You’re about to entertain me. If you do well enough, I may let you take a turn with… playing with someone beautiful.”

The guards laughed, eyes filled with debauchery, delight, and thoughts of sweet perfume and sweat. Less than a few meters away, Gaston stopped, because the man and the woman turned around to look at them.

And in those red eyes, Gaston saw an endless plain of doom. He was offering the young noble front row tickets to the carnage, despite having a lackadaisical smile on his face. The noble had to fake meekness or die. There would be nothing else for him except perishing beneath a stare that almost made him think of the Peace Spawner.

But this guy would probably be the Peace Spawner without the pure evil. Or maybe he was, because Gaston felt more terrified of him than even the Red Star. It would be the ones that seemed peaceful and harmless that could smite unsuspecting observers, knife to throat in an instant, and disappearing without a trace.

“Pardon me, good sir,” Gaston said in a fake meek voice. “I thought you were someone else. Don’t mind me.”

He turned around, moving fast, almost running. He needed to get as far the hell away from that guy as possible, lock the doors, and hide. Hide from the world. Maybe he really should start believing in Wanda or whatever the church wanted people to worship.

“Sir, wait,” a guard called. “Wanda’s ass, why did he…?” He sighed. “My apologies, sir, I believe he was headed to, I guess, stand up to the Red Star, then came to his senses.”

The mystery man simply shrugged, then turned around to walk with his wife. The guard shuddered. Magicians were a scary bunch. But these two… they were on another level, especially that man.

I shook my head, just slightly curious about the noble and his guards.

“I guess he realized that it’s pretty much suicide to voice a complaint to the Red Star while completely powerless,” I said.

“I admire your optimism,” Milia quipped.

I laughed. “It’d be awkward to jump to conclusions when I don’t know anyone. There’s no way that guy had a reason to attack me.”

“Yet you turned around, completely ready,” Milia said, grinning.

Soon, we found ourselves approaching the large, fancy, red-topped manor that was the home of Mandi’s family.