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Chapter 9: The Alchemist of Florin (5)
[Well, this is basically a workshop on its own.]
Though it sounded like a smile, the Black Spirit’s voice was dry, as if already fed up.
And it wasn’t without reason. For the past month, the shadow had been used in this cave like a factory that mass-produced materials—continuously “washing” herbs and mushrooms without pause.
“Take a break if you’re tired, you know?”
As Rotem spoke while pouring yet another heap of herbs onto a rock already piled high with scale-flowers and mushrooms, the Black Spirit spun lightly in the air, performing a somersault as if to show it was perfectly fine.
[No, it’s not like I’m actually exerting myself.]
The words were casual, but Rotem looked genuinely surprised.
“Huh? You’re not the one doing it?”
[To be precise, I’m just acting as a channel and converter that refines the organs and mana accumulated inside this cave into something usable. My power is only minimally involved in the process.]
“So you are still using your power, though.”
Watching the Black Spirit directly infuse vitality into the materials without any unnecessary gestures or “performances” now, Rotem thought for a moment before speaking again.
“Hey, I’ve got a question.”
[What.]
“Why do you keep helping me?”
The flow of mana stopped. The shadow turned around, looking at Rotem with a stunned expression.
[…What? Why are you asking this all of a sudden?]
“I told you when we first met, didn’t I? I didn’t intend to release your seal, so there was no need for repayment.”
“And yet you insisted on staying and helping me get rich.”
[Whether that was your intention or not, I’m just repaying a favor my own way. What’s wrong with that?]
The Black Spirit couldn’t understand why the giant was suddenly bringing this up, but Rotem continued without giving up.
“It’s not that there’s anything wrong with it. It’s just that from your perspective, there’s no benefit at all.”
“You’ve been sticking next to me for months doing nothing but acting like a herb-washing machine even though I told you it was fine.”
“What’s the real reason you’re helping me this devotedly?”
“If you’re really saying it’s just repayment for breaking your seal, then I won’t argue.”
[…]
It was clear from Rotem’s eyes that this wasn’t suspicion or interrogation. He was simply curious.
[If I told you it really is just repayment for breaking my seal… would you accept that?]
“Well, I’d accept it. Whether it’s true or not is secondary.”
[Then just accept it as it is. And like I said before—nothing like taking over your body will ever happen, so you can relax about that.]
Only then did Rotem seem to recall something, nodding as he touched his chin.
“Oh, right. You said that before too. That you’re different from the others. Do your kind usually take over bodies as payment for wishes?”
[Usually, yes.]
“Why aren’t you doing it?”
A perfectly rational question.
But the answer was disappointingly flat.
[I have my reasons. The same reason I’m staying here and helping you.]
“Hmm.”
The tone clearly suggested he didn’t want to elaborate further, and Rotem decided not to press any deeper.
That was partly out of consideration for the mysterious shadow—but also because a young girl’s voice came from the cave entrance at just that moment.
“Hey! Rotem! Are you in there?”
“Ah, wait a sec. I’m coming out.”
When he stepped outside, the bright sun of a cloudless day gently washed over the damp darkness that had clung to his face.
Standing a little distance from the cave entrance was Juno, raising a hand.
For her, who had not come near this place since the attack by a Possession Entity inside the cave, this was already as close as she was willing to get.
“Were you in the middle of ‘work’?”
“Yeah. What’s going on?”
“The Cian Merchant Guild has arrived.”
Already?
Rotem’s face brightened immediately.
“Oh, already? Where’s Uncle Tulcas?”
“I met him. But he said you need to hear this directly too.”
As if already knowing what question would follow, Juno got straight to the point.
Her tone and expression were not usually gentle, but even accounting for that, the bluntness in her voice and face made Rotem instinctively realize something had gone wrong.
“Hey, Rotem! Man, I’m really sorry about this!”
“…I get more anxious when someone apologizes without explaining anything.”
Tulcas, the dwarf, greeted him with a rough voice that mixed apology and relief the moment he saw him.
Shaking hands in front of the workshop, Rotem first checked whether anyone else was listening nearby.
“You mean there’s a problem?”
“Yeah. Let’s go inside first.”
…
“I heard something at the merchant guild headquarters before submitting the bid documents.”
“For this auction—especially the healing potion category we were targeting—there’s a new workshop I’ve never seen before participating.”
“A new workshop?”
Rotem handed Tulcas a mug of beer as the dwarf dried his throat from rushing over.
“You said large workshops usually don’t bid on low-profit things like healing potions.”
“I told you, it’s a ‘new workshop’. They’re the same as us. Their goal isn’t immediate profit—it’s raising recognition through success in imperial supply contracts.”
“I see… but why is that a problem?”
Tulcas emptied the beer in one go.
Rotem gestured if he wanted more, but the dwarf waved it off.
“When workshops or guilds like that jump into low-margin mass bids, individual craftsmen and alchemists get a smaller share. Most of them just back out.”
“And then what do you think happens?”
Only then did Rotem understand.
“…The workload we have to cover increases.”
The imperial supply contract was about distributing a fixed production quota.
If a workshop absorbed a large portion of that quota, the remaining bidders had two options:
Either give up due to low profit and wasted effort,
Or aggressively absorb the remaining quota to secure the contract.
“…How much more do we need to produce?”
Rotem’s question struck at the core.
Tulcas let out a long sigh before answering.
“…To be safe, at least 150 boxes.”
“150 boxes…”
In the past month, Rotem and Juno had produced 50 boxes together.
Even that required cutting into sleep and dedicating all their spare time.
And now they had to produce another 100 boxes in just one week?
“Even with a new workshop involved, 50 boxes isn’t impossible to win with. But the problem is—we’re still unknown in this field.”
“So we have to compete with volume to be safe.”
To beat ten experienced craftsmen producing ten boxes each, a newcomer had to demonstrate output exceeding their combined total.
That was the law of imperial procurement.
“…Can we even do it? 100 more boxes by next week?”
Tulcas already expected the answer.
He knew better than anyone how hard Rotem and Juno had worked to produce those 50 boxes.
But he still asked, unable to endure the heavy silence.
“Yeah, it’s fine.”
And that was why Tulcas froze.
He stared at Juno, who had casually spoken those words, as if he couldn’t believe his ears.
“What—wait, what?”
“We’re short on hands, not materials, right?”
Juno looked between the dwarf and the giant with her large, round eyes, then sneered with her usual arrogant expression.
“You guys haven’t forgotten where you are, right?”
“Hmm, this is quite an interesting combination.”
Florin Village’s chief, Valentin, spoke his thoughts openly as he looked at the giant, dwarf, and shai who had arrived unannounced at his home.
“Forget the combination. Can you do it, Chief?”
Juno didn’t even glance at the tea he offered, focusing only on his face.
The elderly shai let out a faint sigh through his thick beard.
“So let me get this straight—you want a notice posted on the village board asking people to make healing potions as a side job after their daily work?”
“Yes.”
“With no limit on quantity?”
“Yes. We’ll supply as many materials as needed, and people just have to make the potions and hand them over. We’ll pay them for each one they produce.”
“Hm.”
What Juno had said earlier echoed again:
“You guys haven’t forgotten where you are, right?”
Florin Village.
Her words had struck the core perfectly.
A village where almost every household had at least one alchemy tool.
Especially for healing potions, which didn’t require a professional workshop—anyone with basic knowledge, materials, and tools could make them.
Juno’s idea was to distribute the labor across the entire village.
Tulcas and even Rotem agreed it was the only viable solution.
But there was one thing that still lingered in Rotem’s mind.
“This is a rather amusing idea. Imperial supply contracts for healing potions, hmm?”
Valentin chuckled as he looked at Rotem.
Though he smiled awkwardly in return, Rotem couldn’t shake the faint unease growing inside him—
The feeling that this man might be getting a little too close to his “secret.”
