By the end of my first full day running the stall, I had made two full gold coins.
For a first day in a new city, it was nothing short of a miracle. Most of the profit came from potions and potion pouches, which turned out to be an instant hit with the adventurers who prowled the labyrinth district.
Apparently, the going rate for a basic potion was between five and eight silver coins, depending on quality and who you bought from. When I sold mine for only two silver, people thought I was either insane or a scam artist, until they tried one.
The results spoke for themselves.
One wolfkin warrior practically barked with laughter after testing it. "By the gods! That went straight to my veins! You're sure this isn't top-grade stock?"
"Only standard quality," I replied with a smile. "Just brewed properly."
She bought five bottles on the spot, and within an hour, her entire party came back for more. Word spread quickly after that. My stock vanished by mid-afternoon, with several adventurers asking if I could reserve some for tomorrow.
Unfortunately, I'd sold out completely. With my crates empty, I packed up my stall and went hunting for an apothecary that sold fresh herbs.
The one I found was a modest shop tucked into a narrow stone alley, its wooden sign carved with a mortar and pestle. The scent of dried herbs, ground roots, and faint alchemical residue filled the air.
Behind the counter, a catkin girl with bright amber eyes greeted me warmly. "Welcome, traveler! Looking for medicine, reagents, or remedies?"
"Reagents," I said, leaning on the counter. "Basic ingredients for stamina and healing potions. Fresh if possible."
She tilted her head. "Ah, an alchemist?"
"Something like that."
We haggled for a while, she was sharp but fair, and I left with several large bundles of herbs for about twenty silver coins. Enough to double yesterday's production.
That night, I treated myself to a better inn. The Golden Flagon was far more comfortable than the dingy place I'd used before, with warm lighting, solid furniture, and food that didn't taste like reheated leftovers.
Ten silver coins got me a cozy private room, dinner, and breakfast. After eating my fill, I set up my alchemy station by the window and began brewing late into the night. The faint green glow of bubbling liquid reflected off the glass, casting shifting patterns across the walls.
By dawn, I'd doubled my potion stock.
The next morning started strong. My stall drew immediate attention from returning customers and curious newcomers alike. Adventurers exchanged gossip as they shopped, remarking that a "male merchant selling miracle potions" had to be seen to be believed.
It was almost noon when the mood shifted.
The crowd parted as a woman in an elegant crimson dress approached, flanked by two enormous bodyguards. She had the kind of presence that made the air feel heavier, a noble, or someone used to commanding power. A long-stemmed pipe dangled from her fingers, trailing faintly sweet smoke.
"Good morning," I greeted politely. "Interested in potions?"
Her gaze swept over my wares, then up to my face. "So you're the alchemist everyone's been talking about. Quite the little stir you've caused."
"I do my best," I said evenly.
Without responding, she gestured. One of her guards picked up a potion bottle and handed it to her. She uncorked it, took a delicate sniff, then a sip. For a moment, her expression betrayed surprise, then quickly returned to cold composure.
"This quality…" she murmured, tapping her lip. "Far superior to what our members are selling. Which master apothecary taught you this recipe?"
"No one," I replied. "It's self-developed. I'm a crafter by trade."
That earned me a frown of pure disdain. "Self-developed?" she repeated, her tone incredulous. "So you're not a guild member?"
"I'm registered with the Merchant's Association," I said calmly. "That's all I need to operate a stall."
Her eyes narrowed. "Incorrect. You are interfering with the Apothecary Guild's regulated market. Selling at such low prices is predatory behavior. I represent the guild, Lady Nelis. I am willing to offer you twenty-five gold coins to hand over your recipe and cease potion production permanently."
I stared at her. "I appreciate the offer, Lady Nelis, but I'm not selling my recipes or shutting down my stall."
She smiled thinly. "Then you leave me no choice."
At her signal, one of the armored female guards grabbed my stall and began to tip it over.
I reacted instantly, mentally triggering my inventory. In a blink, the entire stall disappeared. The guard lost balance and crashed backward in a clatter of armor, landing flat on her back.
The sudden noise startled everyone in the area. I pulled out my crossbow, leveled it at the fallen guard, and spoke in a steady voice loud enough for everyone to hear.
"I've paid every fee required by law to sell here. If you destroy my property or threaten my livelihood again, I will defend myself. This crossbow can punch through plate armor. Don't test me."
Gasps rippled through the nearby merchants. Even Nelis froze for a moment, her pipe lowering slightly. Then, slowly, her smirk returned.
"You have spirit," she said coolly. "I almost admire that. But spirit doesn't last long in this city. If you continue selling without guild approval…" She exhaled a plume of smoke. "…you may find yourself meeting with an unfortunate accident."
With that, she turned on her heel and left, her four guards following.
I kept the crossbow ready until they disappeared down the street. Only then did I let out a quiet sigh. My hands were steady, but my chest felt tight.
"Guess corruption really does transcend worlds," I muttered.
It reminded me too much of home, the debt collectors who had hounded me for my parents' mistakes. The same smug faces, the same veiled threats. Only this time, I had the power to push back.
Still, I wasn't naïve. The Apothecary Guild clearly had influence, and I'd just made myself a target.
I packed up early and headed straight for the Merchant's Guild.
The same bunny-eared receptionist who had registered me before looked up and smiled as I approached. "Ah, Mr. Abel! Back already? How's business?"
"Profitable," I said dryly. "Until the Apothecary Guild tried to destroy my stall."
Her ears twitched. "Oh my. That's… concerning. What exactly happened?"
I summarized the encounter, keeping it factual. When I finished, she folded her hands on the counter and frowned slightly.
"You haven't broken any laws," she said. "You're fully within your rights to sell what you create. But Lady Nelis is powerful, and the Apothecary Guild controls much of the city's potion trade."
"So what do you recommend?" I asked. "Because I'm not planning to stop."
She hesitated, then leaned in slightly and whispered, "Get a slave."
I blinked. "Excuse me?"
Her tone was matter-of-fact. "A bonded combatant, someone skilled, loyal, and legally tied to your ownership. Many merchants in dangerous trades keep one as a personal bodyguard. It's the only thing that makes guild thugs think twice before trying anything."
"So you're saying I need a guard strong enough to make them hesitate," I said, frowning.
"Exactly," she replied softly. "You don't have to treat them poorly. Some merchants even free their guards after earning enough trust. But without one, you're vulnerable."
I leaned back, mulling it over. I'd been hoping to avoid the whole "slave ownership" system, but I couldn't deny that the logic made sense.
If this world's laws were going to be twisted against me, I'd have to learn how to play the game, and maybe, just maybe, bend it to my own advantage.
"Alright," I said finally. "Then I guess I'd better find myself a guard."