Potions of Power and the Assassin's Bargain
“Don’t overdo it just because of this. It puts on weight faster than you’d think.”
“Yes, sir! I’ll eat it carefully. Thank you so much!”
“Thank you!!!!”
The soldiers nearby, who’d been eavesdropping on our conversation, greeted me with booming voices as if they’d been waiting for this moment.
Whoa… they’re really going all out? This is kinda embarrassing.
I had zero immunity to stuff like this.
That said, my lips curved upward all on their own.
“Alright. Eat up comfortably. I’ve got another schedule to get to.”
Your contribution to resolving the army's food issues has been recognized.
+500p
Countless soldiers now regard you as the greatest commander.
+200p
Specialty 'Cooking' unlocked.
Cooking proficiency of soldiers in your supply specialty has increased.
New food items and recipe books added to the shop.
The System messages made a rare appearance after all this time.
They dumped a hefty gift on me all at once, like unloading a long-hoarded sack.
700 points… insane. What can I even buy with this?
Just imagining it made my mouth water.
“Company commander, you must feel great getting all that praise.”
Ciel, watching me from the side, misunderstood a bit, but there was no need to correct her.
“I’m human too, you know.”
“Same as in the 1st Division. I’ve got a meeting, so I’ll head out.”
“Yes, ma’am. Take care.”
After seeing Ciel off, I headed up to the command post.
No one’s here.
Come to think of it, there was a supply company field inspection today.
“No eyes on me? Time to snag some honey. Shop.”
Current Points: 820p
Adding up the scraps I’d earned before and the fresh haul, my finances were looking pretty flush.
Now I have to click categories to browse.
No plans to become a chef, so I hit Food without hesitation.
“Huh…?”
Items straight out of a game were proudly on display in the shop.
Potions especially. Simple names that grabbed your eyes right away.
“Is this really what I think it is?”
Gripping my trembling hand, I opened the description.
◈ Permanently increases Strength upon consumption. Price doubles with each purchase.
◈ (Pair with intense physical training for even better results.)
Price: 50p
A genuine permanent stat booster.
No need to hesitate on this one.
Payment complete, and a palm-sized vial materialized on the desk.
Inside swirled a blue liquid.
Looks gross as hell.
But now that it cost 100 points for the next one, no point nitpicking the taste. Its value was too high.
Gulp.
I uncorked it and downed the contents. Contrary to the look, it had a tangy vitamin bite—actually pretty drinkable.
“But… is that it?”
I’d expected muscles bulging or something since it boosted strength, but reality stayed dead quiet.
Invisible power-up, maybe?
To test, I grabbed a pencil rolling on the desk and squeezed.
“Hup!”
Trembling.
My two fingers shook.
The pencil? Not even a hint of snapping.
Feels like I got scammed hard.
Good thing I only bought one Strength Potion.
“Dodged a bullet not grabbing all three in a daze.”
Sighing in relief, I browsed the shop a bit more.
Buffs look perfect for emergencies.
Descriptions said they massively boosted specific stats for a duration—ideal for official spars or real combat.
“What else is worth grabbing?”
◈ Hood worn by forest elves for head and face protection during hunts.
◈ Made from vines grown in elven territory—resists most arrows and blades.
Price: 120p
◈ Spoon developed at great cost by the ill-fated Emperor Contra IV, who lived in constant fear of assassination.
◈ Changes color on contact with poisons or harmful substances.
◈ (Yellow = Caution, Purple = Lethal Danger/Poison)
Price: 150p
Every single one was ridiculously pricey.
Tempting to hesitate, but we all know points don’t follow us to the grave.
Doesn’t matter what else—gotta snag that spoon.
My eldest brother Tems Oclo, dropping off ingredients personally every other day.
Quiet so far, but that quiet makes him scarier.
He’s definitely scheming something behind the scenes.
Word is he told Father he’d help his rising star brother revive the family fortunes.
Bullshit.
No way that human trash underwent a personality miracle.
“Yeah. Gotta prepare.”
Steel resolve. I wrapped up shopping with those two buys.
“What’s that?”
I’d pocketed the hood and was eyeing the spoon when Mount returned from the john.
“Huh…? Oh, uh, my spoon.”
“Lieutenant’s personal spoon? You carry that around?”
“Eh, just kinda happened.”
Hard to explain without saying “personal spoon.”
Guess I’m the weird guy now.
But Mount’s reaction was different.
“This that thing? The silver spoon nobles use ’cause they’re scared of poison assassinations.”
What? Did he see the shop too?
He nailed the spoon’s purpose, origin aside.
“Y-yeah, spot on. Incredible insight, sir.”
“You’re a noble, lieutenant, so I figured I could guess. Didn’t think it was real, though. Thought it was just novel stuff.”
“I’m a bit of a coward.”
“Who’d assassinate the lieutenant who miraculously fixed soldier and officer meals? Relax.”
Mount kneaded my shoulder like it was needless worry.
“Hope you’re right.”
I just prayed my damn brother stayed quiet.
“Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!!!”
Back in his branch office, Tems howled in rage, thrashing uncontrollably.
Why the hell is there no opening for me!
Nearly a month since heading west.
Original plan: Blame Palan’s incompetence, naturally snag the credit.
But on arrival? Incompetence my ass—the reported headache was already fixed, and the ingredient ordering was a perfect system.
“At this rate, I’ll just be delivering shit and going home!”
Part of him wanted to hire an assassin guild, but wartime? No guild in the Empire took military hits.
“Gotta find a way to seize control somehow.”
Another flop here, and it was truly over. Tems was more desperate than anyone.
Knock knock!
“Young master, may I come in?”
As Tems gnawed his nails in anxiety, his secretary Emilia’s voice came from outside.
“Come in.”
“Pardon the intrusion.”
The door opened, and a brown-haired woman entered.
Tems beckoned; she naturally approached and offered her shoulder.
“Hah, use your head and come quicker next time. Nearly smashed everything.”
“Sorry.”
His sleazy hands roamed her body freely, but her expression didn’t change.
“Your body’s unreal. You’re from here, right?”
“Yes.”
“After this, come to the capital with me. I’ll set you up rich.”
Tems gripped her hard.
“Understood.”
“Stiff reaction—bet you love it inside. Anyway, what’s up?”
“A guest outside wants to see you.”
“Me? Who?”
“From the Laito Guild. Says they’ll solve your troubles.”
“Hah! Like they know my problems. Scammers like that exist?”
Unheard-of guild name, toying with people—Tems scowled.
“And they asked me to deliver this.”
Emilia pulled a twice-folded paper from her pocket.
“What now?”
Tems snatched and unfolded it irritably—his face froze solid.
“Send him up.”
“Yes, sir.”
As if waiting, Emilia slipped from his grasp and left.
Soon after, a man in a black robe hiding his face entered the branch chief’s office.
“What’s your deal, handing me trash like this?”
Tems shot wary words at the sight of him.
“Forgive the rudeness. We simply wished to meet and speak directly.”
As if anticipating Tems’ attitude, the man replied smoothly.
“Ditch that creepy robe first? If you wanna talk.”
“Ah, sorry. Wore it all day—feels natural. This better?”
He shed the black robe, revealing a face scarred with a long gash.
“Explains the robe.”
“Yeah, barefaced, I get hassled.”
Plausible reason—Tems nodded.
“So what are you, that you can fix my problems? Laito Guild? Never heard of it.”
“A fresh, unknown guild—that’s why we can solve yours.”
“You’re seriously offering to assassinate an Imperial soldier? In this situation?”
No guild took military contracts now for a simple reason.
Wartime soldier hits equaled enemy action—zero survival odds against the whole army.
“We’d have to as a last resort if our plan fails.”
“Plan? Ha! You made a plan to kill Palan without even talking to me? What the hell.”
Tems scoffed genuinely but inwardly upped Laito’s score.
“Let’s hear this grand plan.”
“Regrettably, can’t share details. We worked hard on them.”
“Ha! What?”
Tems scowled at the refusal.
“Instead, we guarantee Palan Oclo’s death. Isn’t that what matters to you?”
“If you won’t share the plan, why should I trust you?”
“No need to trust. We’ll prove it with results.”
Unwavering confidence, no hesitation.
Tems pondered briefly, then spoke.
“What do you want?”
Sneer.
Practically acceptance—the man’s lips curled chillingly.
“A spot for our guild in the Oclo Trading Company’s military food supply deliveries.”