Chapter 11 - The Start of a Solo Run (2)

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-Zombie, do you know what matters most when you take private lessons?

"For starters, I'd like you to stop calling me Zombie."

-The tuition fee.

We left the Union headquarters after finishing everything we had to do.

It was broad daylight. With lunchtime approaching, the streets were bustling. Hunters who had retired from the front lines had opened restaurants, general stores, and the like, and were busily calling out to potential customers.

Of course, plenty of those shops had nothing but flies for customers. Their owners invariably sat by the door, staring blankly with their mouths hanging open. Winners keep winning. Losers keep losing. Cruel as it was, that truth never changed, whether in the outside world or Babylon.

-And you've just secured your tuition. Now, what else do you need?

"Hmm, a good tutor?"

-Now, now. He's already standing right in front of you.

The attendant spirit said it shamelessly, without so much as a change in expression.

-Good reference books! You need textbooks to speed up your growth.

"Textbooks..."

-Yep. Things like secret manuals and elixirs. But even if you read a secret manual, there's no way you'd understand it at your current level, right? That leaves us no choice but to stock up on some fucking expensive elixirs.

Even when he was right, this guy had to say it in the most irritating way possible.

-And for the record, I don't deal in cheap elixirs. What was it called, the Alchemy Ministry? There's a guild for doctors and pharmacists. Get only the elixirs made by their finest artisans.

"Yikes."

-Don't worry, I know where the shop is. There's a place old Markus visits regularly. If we go there and buy up all their elixirs...

"W-wait a minute."

-Huh? Why?

I lowered my voice as pedestrians passed nearby.

"... Aren't those elixirs ridiculously expensive?"

-Of course they're ridiculously expensive. They can charge whatever they want. You'll probably choke when you hear the price.

The attendant spirit grinned.

-Want me to tell you roughly how much?

"... Let's hear it."

The attendant spirit whispered in my ear. My eyes flew open at the price. It was more expensive than anything I'd imagined.

"Even if I spend everything I have left, I can only buy about four!"

-Heh heh. Buy them all at once and you can probably get a discount and order five. Those guys know how to do business. That's why doctors who've gotten a taste for money are the scariest people in the world.

"Th-that's too expensive..."

Good lord. At this rate, I'd be poor again. I'd thought winning the lottery jackpot meant I could live comfortably.

-Well, it might sting to see the money you finally earned disappear so easily, but what can you do? It's a tragedy brought on by your lack of talent. Just think of it all as your lot in life... Hmm!

The attendant spirit's face hardened.

-Gongja, hide.

"What?"

-Now.

His voice was serious. Before I knew it, I had ducked behind a nearby tin garbage can. A sour, rank smell hit me. The restaurant used this can to dispose of food scraps. I furrowed my brow.

"What's going on? Why are you suddenly telling me to hide?"

-Careful. It's old Markus.

"..."

I held my breath and carefully peeked over the garbage can at the street. An old man with his white hair tied back was walking in the distance. The Sword Saint, currently ranked number one, and the owner of [Detective's Insight].

'It'll be trouble if he spots me.'

My heart pounded. Perhaps my tension had rubbed off on him. The attendant spirit abandoned his chatterbox ways and kept his mouth shut for a while. We hid side by side behind the garbage can, following the Sword Saint with our eyes.

"... Again, so loud..."

Fortunately, the Sword Saint didn't seem to have noticed us. He headed somewhere, muttering to himself as usual.

-Ah, shit.

The attendant spirit scowled as he watched the Sword Saint enter a building.

-Tsk! There goes that plan. That's the best shop.

"The best shop?"

-For elixirs. Elixirs! The apothecary who makes them best has a shop there. Ah, seriously! Everyone but that one is a lousy quack. We really ought to buy them there if we can...!

The attendant spirit stamped his feet. It was the first time I'd seen this ghost genuinely upset. Beside him, I sank deep into thought.

'Shopping at the same place as the Sword Saint is too risky. Still, an apothecary who knows how to make good elixirs...'

I searched for the top-ranked hunters on my smartphone.

A list appeared, starting with number one.

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1. Sword Saint / Affiliation: None.

2. Black Witch / Affiliation: Black Dragon (Guild Leader).

3. Count / Affiliation: Merchants' Union (Guild Leader).

4. Inquisitor / Affiliation: Pantheon (Guild Leader).

5. Viper / Affiliation: Heavenly Martial School (Guild Leader).

6. Linguist of Babel / Affiliation: Academy of All Learning (Deputy Guild Leader).

7. Wide-Area Communicator / Affiliation: Illusory Gate Newspaper (Deputy Guild Leader).

8. Paladin / Affiliation: Neighborhood Watch (Deputy Guild Leader).

.

.

.

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"Not there."

I casually muttered the words.

The attendant spirit, still stamping his feet, reacted to my muttering.

-Huh? What's not there? Your luck?

"No. It's actually the exact opposite."

Far from lacking luck, I was overflowing with it.

"This might cost less than I thought."

-What?

"I think I can get the finest elixirs for pocket change."

I grinned.

"I happen to know an incredibly good apothecary."

We left the busy shopping district and entered a secluded alley.

A poor neighborhood. People who couldn't make enough money had no choice but to live in these run-down surroundings. In short, it was practically a slum. The looks the hunters gave us from the dark alleys were unsettling.

-... You're saying a genuinely skilled apothecary lives here?

The attendant spirit looked openly skeptical.

"Not just someone who's ordinarily good. An apothecary with talent for the ages."

-Cut the bullshit. Why would anyone with that kind of talent live in a dump like this?

"Well, don't believe me if you don't want to."

I heard tongues clicking farther down the alley. The hunters who had been watching me turned away.

Seeing me talking to myself, they must have mistaken me for a lunatic. Public safety was abysmal in slums like this, but people generally left lunatics alone.

I chuckled inwardly.

'What would happen if they knew my wallet was full of gold coins right now?'

It was obvious. They'd go wild and pounce on me like beasts.

Of course, I was under no obligation to kindly disclose the contents of my wallet to them. Smelling a corpse rotting somewhere, I ventured deeper into the alleys.

That was when I heard a voice that sounded as though it were tearing apart.

"P-please, just don't touch my laboratory equipment!"

A young person's voice.

Rough voices followed it.

"How many times has this happened now? And you're still saying that crap!"

"It's already been half a year since the payment deadline. Time to pay the price."

I headed toward the voices. Where the alleys intersected like the center of a spiderweb, a shabby shop stood in a slightly open space.

That was where the argument was taking place.

"Ugh. If... if you take all my equipment too... I really won't be able to make a living..."

"Enough. We've seen all we need to. Take everything!"

Burly thugs briskly loaded machines onto a handcart. A woman who looked to be in her late twenties, apparently the owner of the old shop, clung desperately to the cart and pleaded.

"A week! Just give me one more week. No, even five more days..."

"That week turned into a month, and that month turned into half a year!"

THUD!

The thugs shoved the cart forward, and the shopkeeper fell face-first onto the street without putting up any real resistance. Even with her knees scraped raw, she reached for the cart.

"Ah... there's a potion I haven't finished yet...!"

"Ugh. Can't believe I got stuck with some crazy apothecary. Miss! This is my honest advice: don't ever go anywhere near potion-making again!"

The handcart creaked away into an alley.

All that remained were the shopkeeper kneeling in despair and the neighbors, myself included, who had crawled out to watch the mess. The spectators murmured among themselves.

"Tsk, tsk. I knew that shop would go under sooner or later."

"Her potions are way too expensive. Forty gold for one health potion?"

"She's young. She thought running a business was easy..."

Had she heard the spectators talking?

The shopkeeper, who had been staring at the ground in a daze, abruptly jerked her head up.

"E-expensive? I barely charge more than cost!"

She looked quite a wreck. Her long hair was greasy and matted, as though she hadn't washed it in days. Even her glasses were worn out like old antiques. Her voice was shrill, too—less the musical clink of jade than the sound of jade shattering.

"Mine is the only shop in Babylon that offers potions this good at these prices! I-if anything, you should be thanking me for opening a shop in a lousy neighborhood like this! Yes!"

"Good grief. She still hasn't learned her lesson."

"Let's go. Honestly. Who does she think she is, shouting at us like that...?"

The spectators shook their heads and dispersed.

Unlikable!

There sat a shopkeeper who seemed impossible to like, no matter how you looked at her.

"Ah... w-wait. Everyone, since you've already come all this way, couldn't you buy even one health potion...? One dose of my special potion will have even a dying hunter bouncing back."

"No, we're not buying! Not buying!"

The shopkeeper belatedly tried to stop the spectators, but it was no use. That ship had sailed long ago. Trading curses among themselves, the spectators quickly disappeared.

"They really do work... I'm not lying..."

At last, the shopkeeper slumped onto the ground.

-Hey.

Having watched the entire sorry spectacle unfold, the attendant spirit muttered,

-Don't tell me that 'apothecary with talent for the ages' you mentioned... is that loser?

"What if I say she is?"

-Then I'll seriously worry about your mental state. I'll think, 'This kid's died more than four thousand times, and now his brain's gone wrong too.' Then I'll introduce you to the best therapist in Babylon.

I snorted.

"You should already be worried about my mental state, considering I can see ghosts. That shopkeeper really is an apothecary with talent for the ages, so don't worry."

-Not an apothecary for the ages—a loser for the ages! You lunatic!

The attendant spirit kept making a racket, but I ignored him. I strode toward the shopkeeper sitting on the ground.

"Excuse me."

"Huh...?"

The shopkeeper looked up at me. Up close, she looked even shabbier. Had she picked her clothes up somewhere? Both her top and her trousers were too long. Only the white coat she wore made it just barely possible to think, 'Oh, she must be an apothecary, not a beggar.'

"Are you still open for business, ma'am?"

Of course, this woman wasn't a beggar.

Much less an ordinary apothecary.

"If you're still open, I'd like to order some potions."

The Alchemy Ministry Head.

The apothecary who would one day rise to fifth place in the rankings.

She wasn't ranked at this point, but she was certain to achieve great success.

"They're fairly expensive potions. Would that be all right?"

"Ah, yes. Yes! Of course! I can make anything for you!"

The apothecary's face lit up. Just moments ago, her shop had been on the brink of ruin, and now, by a stroke of luck, a customer had arrived wanting to order expensive potions. It was only natural that she would feel she'd been brought back from the dead.

"Um, but when you say expensive, how expensive do you mean...?"

"Well."

In the future, I wouldn't have dared place an order with this apothecary no matter how much money I had, but this time was different.

"For starters, I'd like to buy about twenty thousand gold's worth."

"..."

The apothecary's mouth fell open.

So what if she looked a little wretched? To me, the apothecary before my eyes looked like nothing but a goose that laid golden eggs. Golden eggs made of one hundred percent pure gold, at that!

I smiled.

"What are you waiting for? You should take my order, ma'am."

I'd become her loyal customer, right down to my bones.