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< Chapter 8: The Alchemist of Florin (4) >
At the cold tone that followed immediately after the compliment, Rotem froze for a moment.
“…Uh, why is that?”
“As I said, it’s not significantly superior in quality—just equal or only slightly better.”
“But imperial procurement prioritizes quality—”
“That’s exactly the mistake beginners who are only confident in quality tend to make.”
While gulping down cheap wine Rotem had brought to wash away the lingering effects of the potion’s aftertaste, Tulkas continued speaking.
“It’s true that quality is the top priority in imperial procurement evaluations.
But there’s something many people overlook. The true purpose of imperial supply contracts is to secure a fixed quantity of items above a certain quality threshold.
In other words, from the evaluator’s perspective, guaranteeing supply volume is just as important as guaranteeing quality.”
“Supply volume…”
Rotem repeated the words, but his expression still showed little understanding, so Tulkas pulled his chair closer to elaborate properly.
“Alright, I’ll make it simple.
Let’s say the capital of Calpheon needs 100 Insight Potions this quarter through imperial procurement.
Now, say our Cyan Trading Company applies saying we can immediately supply 90 potions of quality level 10.
And you say you can supply 10 potions of quality level 15.
From Calpheon’s perspective, your potion has better quality, so they give you a passing evaluation.
Then they take 90 from Cyan Trading and 10 from you. So far, so good. But what happens next quarter?”
“……”
“What if the required amount increases to 200?
Our company will say we can immediately supply 150 units based on last quarter’s quality.
And another workshop offers 50 units of similar quality.
They need 200 units immediately—so is there any reason for them to again select your 10 units, which haven’t improved at all since last quarter?”
“So you’re saying—quality matters, but meeting the required volume is just as important.”
Rotem’s calm tone made Tulkas nod.
“It’s true that once you succeed even with a small batch, you’re treated as a recognized artisan.
But the catch is that there’s no guarantee you’ll be able to compete with the same quantity and quality in the next bidding cycle.
That’s why many crafters, after succeeding in imperial procurement, don’t continue independent production. Instead, they use that track record to join trading companies or workshops.”
Finally, Rotem understood Tulkas’s “warning.”
“So even if I succeed once, maintaining profit afterward carries a lot of risk.”
“Unfortunately, yes. It’s quite far from the original intent of imperial procurement—but that’s reality.”
“…I understand. Thank you for the advice.”
As Rotem bowed his head, Tulkas stood up, stroking his beard with a complicated expression.
“Sorry if I dampened your enthusiasm with unnecessary words. But take it as the most realistic advice you’ll get.”
“Yes, thank you.”
With Rotem’s farewell, Tulkas left the workshop, and a brief silence filled his absence.
But the silence didn’t last.
[So, to sum it up, you can’t make a huge amount of money right away from this imperial thing you were aiming for, right?]
“That’s about right. Even if I succeed in bidding, as a slave I can’t just join a trade company or workshop freely anyway.”
[So what now? Giving up imperial procurement?]
The Black Spirit’s tone wasn’t mocking—it was more like a blunt conclusion.
But Rotem, calmly clearing away the empty potion bottle, showed no sign of urgency.
“No. I’m not giving up.”
[But didn’t that dwarf guy say—]
“If large-scale production of high-grade potions is difficult…”
Rotem’s gaze shifted to an unopened box.
“…then I’ll differentiate through basic products.”
*****
“W-what the—what is this all of a sudden?!”
Under the dim bluish evening sky, a giant and a dwarf suddenly casting shadows in front of her house made the Shai girl Juno scream before she could think.
But once she recognized Rotem among them, she let out a relieved sigh, holding her chest.
“Oh… it’s you. You startled me.”
“Hello. Do you have a moment?”
“Well… I guess it’s fine, but…”
Her round eyes shifted to the dwarf beside him.
“And who’s that?”
“Ah, apologies. I’m Tulkas, blacksmith of the Cyan Trading Company.”
“The Cyan Trading Company?”
The strange combination of a slave from Florin village and a master craftsman from Calpheon’s largest trading company made Juno tilt her head in confusion.
But Rotem quickly got to the point.
“Did you happen to use up the healing potion I gave you last time?”
“No, I barely needed it. I think I’ve already recovered.”
“You’ve fully recovered?”
Rotem stepped closer to the door, then asked with a completely sincere expression:
“Could you show me your thigh for a moment?”
…
…
…
“What the hell is wrong with you, showing up asking that?”
Juno, flustered by the sudden request, quickly pulled both men into her house to avoid any passing misunderstandings.
Tulkas, being a dwarf, had no issue with the space, but Rotem—like when he visited the village chief’s house—had to move carefully, constantly bumping into things due to his size and the low ceiling.
“Sorry. I needed to show the effect of my healing potion to this guy here, Tulkas.”
“Then just say that! Why are you suddenly asking to see my thigh like some pervert?”
Even with Juno’s blunt tone, Rotem couldn’t respond.
“I told you, the wound healed completely. No fever, nothing. Maybe just a scar left.”
“You got cut by a blade soaked in corrupted mana, and you’re fine?”
Tulkas stroked his rough beard skeptically.
“If I’m fine, I’m fine. Why would I lie?”
At her words, Rotem shrugged toward Tulkas, who nodded in satisfaction.
From Juno’s perspective, the two men who had barged in and reached conclusions on their own were extremely irritating.
“So what is this about? You came all the way here just to look at my injury?”
“Hmm…”
Rotem hesitated.
He had come to show Tulkas the potion’s effectiveness using Juno as the first “test subject,” but he hadn’t actually planned how to explain it to her.
Juno was someone who had once followed him out of suspicion, after all.
Before he could decide what to say, the situation was unexpectedly resolved.
“Oh, that? This kid here is trying to get his healing potion into imperial procurement.”
The dwarf casually revealed everything.
Rotem didn’t think there was any malicious intent—Tulkas simply didn’t know the tension between him and Juno.
Still, Rotem looked at Juno cautiously.
But her reaction was different from what he expected.
“Imperial procurement? Healing potions? Are you trying to throw money away or something? Why would you do that?”
A mix of concern and irritation colored her voice.
Rotem shook his head as if to say “as expected,” while Tulkas shrugged as if to say “I told you so.”
Juno didn’t know it, but they had already discussed the same topic earlier.
“So that’s it? You’re planning to wash cheap materials in that dungeon and make potions for imperial supply?”
“Yes, more or less.”
At Rotem’s answer, Juno frowned as she thought.
“That might turn a short-term profit, but after transport costs and everything else, it’s not exactly efficient. Why not just finish your contract here and make a deal with an external trading company through the village chief? Why go through imperial procurement?”
“For me, imperial procurement is just a middle step. Of course, profit would be nice too.”
“Middle step?”
“It’s still in the planning phase.”
“Oh, really?”
Her expression darkened slightly, as if she suspected he was hiding something.
“But even if you wash materials, if the potion itself stays at that level, it won’t matter.”
“Huh? Didn’t you already prove that yourself?”
Tulkas pointed at Juno’s thigh.
“You said you were cut by a mana-corrupted blade. Yet you recovered with just one potion and no poisoning effects. What do you think that means?”
Juno flinched at the sudden question but tried to stay composed.
“What? That’s normal for healing potions, isn’t it?”
“Hah!”
Tulkas let out a short laugh, which made her cheeks redden in irritation.
But he wasn’t mocking her.
He simply realized something: in a peaceful village where the only “conflict” was encountering a bear while gathering herbs, it was difficult to understand the true value of healing potions.
“Girl, if your thigh gets sliced in battle by an axe, how many healing potions do you think you’d need?”
“…One?”
“You’d need a full medium potion just to stop the bleeding, and then keep pouring a large potion on the wound. Even then, if you’re lucky, you might recover in 2–3 days.”
“….”
“In other words, if what you said is true, you used a high-grade potion usually reserved for officers or nobles—for free.”
Juno fell silent, her expression shifting.
Shame at her ignorance and reassessment of Rotem’s kindness mixed together.
Tulkas sighed again and continued.
“Anyway, the quality is confirmed. Now the problem is volume.”
“Right. To qualify for bidding, we need at least 10% of Calpheon’s required supply.”
“10%… about 50 boxes.”
Tulkas muttered while twisting his beard.
“The notice will probably come out next month. That means you need 50 boxes of potions in one month. Think you can manage that, Rotem?”
“Yes. It’s definitely possible.”
His confidence was unwavering, but Tulkas still wasn’t reassured.
“You’ll still be handling your usual village labor and truffle deliveries too. Are you really okay?”
“Yes. I’ll be fine. I have a partner.”
As he spoke, Rotem naturally looked at Juno.
Juno blinked.
“Me? Partner?”
“Yes. Well, if you don’t want to, I won’t force you.”
“Wait, what—”
Even Juno, Tulkas, and even Rotem himself were slightly surprised.
Because the idea of recruiting Juno had only just occurred to him on the spot.
“You know about the dungeon. And you also know how I work.”
“So you want me as a partner to keep me quiet?”
“I won’t lie. That’s part of it.”
More importantly, Juno hadn’t exposed his secret despite knowing everything.
That alone made Rotem feel a minimum level of trust toward her.
Juno had always been suspicious and hostile toward him, so it was unclear why she hadn’t acted—but regardless, she had kept quiet.
And that mattered.
“….”
It was still a formal proposal.
Juno steadied herself and looked at the giant and dwarf across from her.
They waited without pressure.
Finally, she spoke.
“Then… how do we split the profits?”
