The Alchemist's Bargain
After lying flat on the floor and getting plenty of rest, Maness returned to the Shopping District and quickly scoured the alleys.
Finding the fence had been easy—just follow the main road—but tracking down a shop tucked into the maze-like backstreets was a real chore. Still, with a rough map in his head, he reached the shop's door sooner than expected.
Ding-a-ling— The bell announcing a customer rang out clear and bright. The shopkeeper, slumped over the counter, didn't even lift her head, just rolled her eyes to check out the newcomer.
"Welcome..."
Maness cleared his throat in response to the half-hearted greeting and slowly scanned the walls. From alchemy tools to ingredients for finished products, the small shop was packed tight with a solid selection.
He needed basics. Passing shelves of high-end stuff, he stopped dead in front of one display case.
In alchemy, mana affinity counted as an ingredient too. That limited what each mage could produce, so they'd invented ways to alter it. You couldn't swig an elixir and permanently change your affinity like with a spirit tonic, but overlaying it onto your flowing mana? That was doable.
Attribute Potion. One of the most basic, foundational reagents in modern alchemy.
"Mind if I ask something?"
"Sorry, no jelly that turns you into a griffin when you drop it in water."
"Not that—I want to buy these, but can I use our allocated points?"
With a clear goal stated, the shopkeeper finally straightened up from her slump. Her expression looked like she'd spotted some bizarre creature.
"Those are for alchemy."
"That's why I'm in an alchemy shop."
"You're not a first-year? Blue necktie says you are."
Maness shrugged at the woman's sudden weird question.
"As you can see."
"Huh, you're a strange one. Most kids your age just ask stuff like, 'Got a potion that turns you into a dragon if you drink it?' and leave."
Ah, so that's why she was facedown. It clicked where her weary attitude and hollow eyes came from.
"So, how many can I get?"
"Per item, maybe two."
"Two..."
Way too few. And the Shopping District's system wasn't some pushover you could bully into extras. That left one option.
"Any chance for a haggle?"
Time to show his chops as a trading company sub-leader.
"No."
First try rejected flat-out, as expected.
"Look elsewhere. Attribute potions sell like hotcakes—no discounts."
The school monitored prices and stock tightly, so merchants couldn't just haggle willy-nilly. But it wasn't impossible. Maness knew a savvy manager could swing a deal with a bit of paperwork.
So he just rolled with it, eyes steady.
This should work.
Scanning the shelves again, he pointed to a bundle discount item.
"Can I take this?"
"Hm, plant-gathering toolset bundle. Yeah, that's right at your limit."
"Exactly."
He'd picked the useless plant-gathering kit for a reason: its total unit price matched four bottles of attribute potion. Discount the bundle, and his points would cover it no sweat.
Heading back to the attribute potion shelf, Maness locked eyes with the manager's deadpan face.
"Four bottles of these at bundle discount works, right?"
"You gonna keep saying nonsense?"
"Just bundle 'em like the plant tools, no?"
The manager just snorted at the cocky first-year.
"Kid, bundles are items too. To sell you that as a bundle, I'd have to file an item proposal with the student council—those pains in the ass."
"Then do it."
"Do it? You have no idea how much writing goes into intent, projected sales shifts, all that. And then they audit stock—why should I bust my ass for you?"
Fair point. To anyone watching, this was just a clueless kid throwing a tantrum, ignoring repeated nos and doubling down shamelessly. The manager had to be fuming inside.
"And like I said, why bundle a hot seller? Plant tools are desperate because kids blow points on the black market anyway..."
"Interested in the Magic Tower's magic reagent distribution deal?"
"The price is set that way, what about it?"
The grumbling manager shut up in an instant. Magic Tower and reagent distribution—the hottest topic right now between trading companies and mage merchants.
Maybe too early to play this card, but for the long game, striking first made sense.
"...Yeah, kinda."
"Pictri Trading Company will snag a seat in the Magic Tower's statement on external goods. Not a guess—a promise."
Magic Tower mages were picky about reagents, preferring self-sufficiency. A holdover from ancestors' arrogance, distrusting outsiders' processed goods. But internal issues were cracking that tradition.
Simple: growing mage numbers depleted supplies, sparking conflicts. Demand up, supply flat—classic.
"How can you be sure..."
The manager trailed off, then snatched her glasses from the table and perched them on her nose. Blinking a few times, her face lit up.
"Well, I'll be—didn't recognize you, young sir."
Just the reaction Maness wanted.
"Master Maness coming all the way here."
Everything but that last bit.
*Eirin. An alchemy-specialized mage and renowned merchant in the mage traders' association for her flawless finished products and genius attribute blending. She dreamed of running the continent's top alchemy workshop, but a rival's smear campaign forced her to shelve it. Maness knew her inside out, so dangling bait was easy.
"Info from the sub-leader? Credible enough."
Even sidelined at Snowrobe, Eirin kept her ears open. Trading companies battling for distribution rights. Workshops shoving products in anywhere. Anyone in distribution eyed the Magic Tower as a golden opportunity.
"No surprise. Nobody disputes Pictri as the continent's biggest trading company."
"Namely so."
"So?"
Straight to business. Sub-leader or not, she was a merchant—and so was he. Time for trader talk.
"Why bring up the Magic Tower out of nowhere?"
"They've dragged on distribution talks forever with no progress."
Maness pulled a fire-attribute potion. Sunset glow in a bottle, packed with ingredients.
"Mages act all pure, but they're slaves to time—especially Magic Tower ones."
Eirin nodded, hooked on the first-year's words. A passing student would've laughed, but to her, this was a deal shaping her future. Four potions for intel, obviously.
"Guys like that outsourcing? They'd pick finished products over raw reagents."
"Stubborn bunch."
"Who cares? They're already using outside stuff. Purity obsession goes out the window."
Eirin crossed her arms, frowning in deep thought. Overstated, but spot-on. Magic Tower mages scoured mountains and coasts for purity. Pointless stubbornness, really. With that broken, no reason to shun finished goods.
She'd fixated on reagent shortages, missing this simple logic.
"So the Magic Tower's pushing partnerships beyond distribution—with top workshops for perfect products. Can't shake that pickiness."
It was underway secretly with big traders. Public reveal would rile associations and shake the magic economy.
Maness wasn't spilling for just four potions. Eirin would later lead the workshop handling Magic Tower's reagents and products. Way down the line.
Snowrobe's bubble was the culprit. Self-inflicted—volunteering to babysit magic prodigies and noble heirs meant lagging in info and connections.
Maness was just nudging her onto her path early. While pocketing his wants—and a big favor.
"These backroom deals run on connections, right?"
"Sure. Traders lack magic market ties, so word-of-mouth openings."
"I could write you a recommendation."
A gamble. A sub-leader's note was worthless; needed the boss or company name. But doable. Faith in that first letter he'd seen waking up here. Robert Pictri called his son sharp. Body said the original Maness honored his dad's protection obsession. Father-son trust wouldn't crumble.
"Hm."
Maness watched Eirin mull it.
She was a top-tier alchemist. Get her a meeting, and Pictri would handle the rest. Essential link for him—and the company.
"If you pull strings at Pictri for my rec, it'd be amazing, but..."
"Too much?"
As expected, she nodded. Intel plus rec? Four potions didn't cut it. No merchant—even family—would trade that cheap.
"You know the value of what you're offering?"
"Enough to flip someone's life upside down."
"Yeah. If it pans out, I'd give you the whole shop. But..."
Eirin shrugged.
"Snowrobe doesn't price info. Best I can do: bundle those four potions at discount and file the paperwork with student council."
"Perfect."
Maness swept up fire, water, plant, and wind bottles onto the counter.
"It's all hypothetical anyway, right? If it works out, pay me back later."
"Racking up a debt, huh?"
"That's just how people trade."
Eirin blinked, newly struck. Head spinning before, but this kid oozed unnatural confidence. Heavy topics, yet unfazed.
Bloodlines ran true. Any merchant—or continental—knew Robert Pictri's tale: from nothing to top dog. His son seemed packed with the same potential.
"Oh, right—this too."
She rummaged under the counter, adding two purple-tinted potions.
"My personal stash. Temporary mana boost, but Snowrobe life means simple brews—nothing fancy."
"Thanks. I'll put 'em to good use."
"Only leftovers from personal stock. If anyone asks, say you stole 'em—not from me."
A shared laugh. A line slashed on the first-year shared receipt, ending the long haggle.