Husayn's declaration left the maiden speechless, utterly bewildered. Her gaze, riveted on him, lingered, seeking confirmation. His solemn nod triggered an immediate, frantic response. She darted back into her chamber, a whirlwind of motion, retrieving one ornate wooden coffer after another. Each time she emerged, her eyes sought his approval, each time, he offered a silent, confirming gesture. He strove to maintain a fa?ade of impassivity, yet the growing mountain of potion filled boxes, a testament to her zealous obedience brought an involuntary, tender smile to his lips.
After a brief interval, the young woman, her breath ragged, delivered to Husayn the grim tally of the low-quality potions and their total price. Seeking a solution for the low-quality potion's conveyance, Husayn inquired of the young woman whether any nearby establishment offered such a service. With a decisive bob of her head, the youthful female bolted from the room, her departure immediate and resolute.
"Sara," Husayn breathed, his gaze lingering on the nameplate, confirming the identity of the academy's sole, notoriously avaricious alchemist. Approaching the rough-hewn wooden crates, he meticulously examined each vial of low-quality potion, his proximity allowing his newly discovered skill to assess their worth. A potent ability, unearthed during his exploration, enabled him to not only appraise the potions but also to precisely calculate their resale value via his "Central Market" skill is a lucrative prospect indeed.
Shortly thereafter, Sara, known as the academy's, notoriously avaricious alchemist, of course only to Husayn, returned in a carriage. The coachman, eyeing the eight hefty crates with a practiced appraisal, exchanged a curt greeting with Husayn. Confirming the consignment's completeness, the coachman, a man whose weathered face spoke of countless journeys, effortlessly hefted one crate onto his broad shoulders. A single, knowing nod sealed the transaction, the job was his. With practiced efficiency, he loaded the remaining containers into his conveyance.
Husayn, his gaze lingering on Sara's sparsely furnished quarters, made a decisive announcement. "Sara," he began, a glint in his eye, "with your prodigious talent for concocting potent elixirs, I propose a lucrative proposition. The academy, currently lacking alchemical expertise, desperately needs your skills. Are you willing to accept a position as our resident alchemist?" The implication of a substantially increased income hung heavy in the air, a tempting lure for Sara's well-known avarice.
Sara, sat tongue-tied, her restless fingers betraying a turmoil of emotions.
Husayn's smile was a beacon of relief as he confirmed, "Naturally, your residence will henceforth be confined to the academy grounds, further visits here are unnecessary."
Sara sharply inquired whether the provision of components and formulas for diverse concoctions was forthcoming. Sara made a request so uncharacteristic that it caused Husayn's eyes to dilate. He hadn't envisioned the Sara he knew from the game, the same Sara who, in the virtual world, had demonstrated an insatiable appetite for luxury and wealth, soliciting such modest assistance. A thoughtful nod signified Husayn's agreement. He pledged to furnish Sara with every ingredient and formula accessible within the academy's extensive resources. In return, he only asked for the potions the academy urgently needed for its students. A simple exchange for a remarkably unassuming alchemist.
Husayn suspected a profound shift in Sara's demeanor, a metamorphosis that hinted at some unseen, perhaps traumatic, event. This timid alchemist, whose heart burned with a fervent passion for potion-crafting, had inexplicably transformed. Had Sara confined her altered personality to the confines of the game, the academy would have reaped significant benefits, and she would have avoided alienating the students requesting for aid.
Sara possessed only three worn cloaks. Her meager finances, dedicated entirely to procuring alchemical ingredients, left her with nothing else. Husayn, moved by her plight, purchased an assortment of serviceable garments from a nearby apparel store. The shopkeeper, however, wary of Sara's unkempt appearance, refused to allow her to try anything on. Instead, relying solely on measurements, Husayn selected simple, modest clothes as a provisional solution. Upon their arrival at the Academy, Husayn immediately guided the grateful Sara to the lavatory, where she could at last cleanse herself before donning her new acquisitions.
Sara refrained from expressing her judicial opinions, her heart instead leaping with unrestrained glee at the sight of her new laboratory overflowing with an extravagant array of ingredients and concoctions. Husayn, quite astonished by the dean's extraordinary generosity, had anticipated a far more arduous process, picturing himself humbly requesting each component upon his arrival. A heavy sigh escaped Husayn's lips as he observed Sara's uncharacteristic cheerfulness, her new attire lay untouched, discarded in favor of her familiar, well-worn cloak. Lost in a whirlwind of ecstatic tears, Sara meticulously examined each ingredient, the dean's bountiful provision triggering an overwhelming wave of joyful gratitude.
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Sara watched as Husayn dismissed her with a careless shrug. He disappeared into the pristine two-story concrete edifice, its immaculate state a stark contrast to his expectations. The building's spotless condition filled him with incredulity, he mused, half-jokingly, on whether the dean possessed some magical secret, a perpetual enchantment of cleanliness. A chuckle escaped his lips as he formulated a plan, a cleaning staff would maintain the building's impeccable order and various bodyguards against the unpredictable dangers that threatened both him and Sara.
~
Seven days had elapsed since Husayn's arrival in this world. A week ago, he'd materialized, and now, with a bright smile and a cheerful wave, he bid farewell to the adventurers' supply team, their order of moderately potent potions completed. Meanwhile, Sara, a shy but fiercely dedicated alchemist, diligently continued her potion-crafting, the formulas Husayn had bequeathed her proving invaluable. To bolster his fledgling enterprise, Husayn had engaged three slave men as assistants, a decision born of necessity but tinged with a complexity he preferred to ignore.
Husayn's presence at the academy had brought about significant changes. On this particular day, a student arrived at Husayn's store, bearing a letter from Corvus Grant, the esteemed dean of the academy. The student, with a respectful bow, presented the letter to Husayn, who accepted it with a gracious nod. Opening the letter, Husayn's eyes skimmed the contents, his expression growing pensive. The dean requested a list of potions that would be required for an upcoming outdoor activity, scheduled to take place in two weeks' time.
| An annual, open-air event is planned for the third playing field. Your crucial support is required. I need you to supply the necessary emergency potions. |
- 200 Low Health Potion
- 50 Medium Health Potion
- 40 Low Mana Potion
- 30 Medium Mana Potion
The activity, a grand-scale endeavor, would involve a significant number of students and staff, and the dean wished to ensure their safety and well-being with an ample supply of healing potions.
Husayn, his face impassive, sighed inwardly. It wasn't the list of potions that concerned him, but rather, a foreboding sense of dread that something terrible would occur during this event. In the game world, there had been no skilled alchemist to provide the academy with the necessary potions, resulting in numerous critical injuries and a devastatingly high casualty count. Now, with Husayn's newfound ability to appraise and procure potions, he knew that the outcome could be vastly different. Aware of the potential consequences, Husayn promptly began compiling a comprehensive list of potions, his mind working swiftly to ensure the academy's needs were met.
Utilizing his 'Central Market' skill, Husayn efficiently procured an abundance of ingredients, ensuring that Sara had more than enough resources to craft the requested potions. With his vast funds, he was unconcerned about the time constraint, confident that he could purchase any additional potions if needed. The following day, Husayn embarked on a tour of the academy, greeting each merchant with warmth and generosity. He presented them with a selection of fine potions, earning their gratitude and respect. This gesture not only fostered goodwill but also served as a subtle demonstration of his influence and resources. As the days progressed, Sara diligently worked through the list of potions, her passion for alchemy reignited by the abundance of ingredients and the trust placed in her by Husayn and the academy. The once shy and reclusive alchemist emerged from her shell, her dedication and skill earning her a newfound respect from Husayn.
"It's time." Husayn's voice held a mixture of determination and apprehension as he addressed the three male slaves. "Help me to carry all of these potions to the dean." The slaves sprang into action, carefully gathering the meticulously crafted potions that would ensure the safety of the academy's students and staff during the upcoming outdoor activity.
As they prepared to depart, Husayn's gaze lifted towards the sky, his expression a mixture of hope and trepidation. He knew of the potential dangers that lay ahead, dangers that no one else seemed to be aware of. In the game world, this event had resulted in countless injuries and a tragic loss of life. Now, in this new reality, he was powerless to prevent the event from unfolding, for no one would believe his warnings. Even if they did, they might suspect him of orchestrating the calamity.
The weight of this knowledge bore heavily upon him, yet he maintained his composure. With a nod, he signaled for the slaves to follow, and together, they made their way towards the third playing field, their arms laden with the life-saving potions that Husayn hoped would make a difference.
It had been a busy week for Husayn, and now, as he stood on the outskirts of the outdoor training grounds, he felt a sense of apprehension. The hat shaded his face, providing a measure of anonymity as he surveyed the sea of students gathered before him. Among them, he recognized familiar faces from the game, and he found himself hoping that their fate would remain unchanged. It was crucial that they all survived. The future depended on it. Husayn wasted no time, directing his slaves to place the potions with the academy supply team before reporting to the nearest professor.
As he turned to leave, he sensed a pair of eyes on him and spotted Cecilia, her gaze fixed upon him. Unsettled by her stare, Husayn pulled his hat lower and swiftly walked away from the field. Back at his store, Husayn's mind raced as he considered the implications of Cecilia's stare. Had she recognized him? And if so, what did she intend to do about it? He knew that his presence here, his knowledge of future events, could be seen as a threat by some. Perhaps it was time to lie low for a while, he didn't want his early existence to affect the relationship between the main character and his party.