My Potions Are a Bit Different
“Good work, Suho. This wrapped up so nicely thanks to you. Take the next month off and rest up. I'll call when it's time to reopen the workshop.”
“Got it, hyungnim. Where's Taehee noona, though?”
After finishing all the herb processing yesterday, we'd had a modest little drinking party with Seo Taeju and his sister Seo Taehee.
It had definitely started modest. The problem was the amount of booze.
Even hunters could hold their liquor better than regular folks, but this was ridiculous. It was some medicinal liquor that Seo Taeju had brewed with herbs, stored in a massive 2,000-liter tank like the kind they use in factories. And the proof? A whopping 70 degrees.
Naturally, I'd blacked out midway, only to snap awake after chugging one of Seo Taehee's sobering potions. We repeated that cycle—pass out, wake up—about a dozen times before the party finally ended.
And during the drinks, we'd sorted out how to address each other. “Boss” gave him the chills, so it was settled: hyungnim and noona.
I'd also learned something big: the siblings' true skills. Seo Taeju was one of the top herb gatherers in Korea, and Seo Taehee was a rare multi-potion maker among potion crafters.
Multi-potion makers could craft superior potions in two or more categories—a truly elite group, few and far between.
I'd nearly died holding back all my questions about potion recipes. I'd choked down the words rising in my throat by slamming more drinks.
For now, this friendly vibe was perfect. Asking about recipes outright might paint me as a spy, and that'd be a real disaster.
“She's probably wrapping up the final processing now. She won't come out anytime soon, so head home. And don't forget to show up when I call in a month.”
“Alright, then. I'll head out.”
With that, I left the Origin Potion Workshop, securing a full month of free time.
Now it was time for some real me-time.
Mana didn't recover in fixed numerical amounts—it regenerated by percentage.
This was standard for most hunters. Only mage-class hunters had the special trait of boosted mana recovery speed, giving them a slight edge.
In a dungeon, regular hunters took 3 hours for full recovery, mages 2 hours.
But out in reality?
Combat hunters rarely used skills outside, but production-class ones needed them often. Dungeons overflowed with mana, but the real world? Not so much.
Bottom line: 12 hours.
Production skills consumed less mana to balance it out.
So, what about me?
“Hah... Full in just two hours?”
For an NPC like me, the whole world was basically one giant dungeon. And I recovered at mage-class speed—full mana in 2 hours.
Twelve days had passed since my first potion purchase at the Potion Shop.
Couldn't buy at the workshop, so twice a day—at home and before work—I stocked up. 192 over 12 days, plus 8 more today for a nice round 200.
“Gotta test my potions' performance before selling. Are they really basic-potion level?”
I stared down the four potions in front of me.
One was mine, one basic, one from Origin Potion Workshop, and the last from Smart Potion, the rising star in healing potions lately.
“Time to find out.”
I gripped the knife from Hunter Management Bureau registration in my right hand and pressed the blade to my left palm.
“Hoo... Hoo.”
Deep breaths. Just pull...
“Ow, damn it!”
I yanked the knife away from my palm, yelling.
No big deal when I was dungeon-bound, but now? Tension hit like a truck.
“What's with the wussing out? You call yourself a man, Kim Suho? Get it together.”
Slap!
I smacked both cheeks hard. The sting and sound steadied my nerves.
Knife back on palm.
Slice.
Blood sprayed as my right hand pulled. “Ugh, feels gross.”
Pain wasn't bad—just the self-inflicted cut vibe.
“Basic potion first.”
I poured it on. Bubbles rose like poison antidote, wound knitting slowly.
“One, two, three... Nine, ten, eleven.”
11 seconds to full heal. I inspected my flawless palm in wonder.
“Not a scar.”
Second time? No hesitation.
Origin Potion: 8 seconds. Smart Potion: a hair faster than 8.
“Smart Potion?”
Impressive, especially knowing the Seo siblings' skills—it made this even more standout.
Now, the moment of truth.
“Please just hit 11 seconds. Not asking for much.”
With superior potions out there, basic-level was fine. Wishing for 11, I cut and poured.
“One, two, three... Eight, nine, ten.”
Wound gone before eleven.
“In-insane.”
My hunch was right. Same ingredients, but perfect ratios and auto-refinement? Could outperform basics.
Crude palm test, sure, but definitely not weaker.
“Good enough. Effect confirmed. Now, sales method...”
Workshop in a month—no time for my own. Plus, avoid misunderstandings with the Seos.
“Even after work resumes, online sales are best.”
I opened a shop on the Hunter Management Bureau's official online market.
Used to be scattered personal sites, but fraud, bad potions, taxes—chaos. Bureau centralized it; all else illegal now.
Sellers and buyers cheered. No scams under bureau watch—safe buys. Small-timers like me got easy outlets.
“Name: NPC Potion.”
Shop named, time for listing—then it hit me.
“Ah... Promo video. Damn!”
Small no-names needed videos to hype goods. Mine too—for proof.
Forgot during testing.
Shaky hands grabbed the knife again.
Video done, sent for bureau certification. Two days later, certified mark on market—sales live.
“Squad chief, we're out of stock on reserve potions. Reported up, but next week at earliest. What now?”
Kim Seokyeong, 119 Rescue Squad chief and firefighter sergeant, scowled at his subordinate's report post-inventory.
“These guys always pull 'next week.' What if shit hits the fan—who takes blame? And why report last-minute? Yi Yeonghak! You got a brain or not?”
Yi Yeonghak shrugged innocently. “Last night's 12-car pileup used up all five reserves. Checked stock first thing on shift and reported.”
Kim scratched his head furiously. “Argh, damn it. Find five ASAP, any that ship now. Forget the receipt again, and I dock your pay.”
“Heh, chief, I was out of it then.”
Not his first rodeo—Yeonghak hit his bookmarked online market.
Fire stations always short on potions. 100k won each? With firefighters buying their own cheap gear, no way brass stocked plenty.
Potions were miracle cures in emergencies. Risking life for rescues? No skimping.
Always short—buy first, reimburse later. Tough approvals, but worth it. Better than watching someone die over pennies.
“Wha—? 50k won? Chief! Chief! This one's 50k per bottle!”
Kim snapped irritably. “Don't hit sketchy sites! One bad potion kills, you take responsibility? It's not your money—quit pinching.”
Yeonghak's shock grew. “Chief! Look—exactly what we need. Official market, check quick!”
Grumbling, Kim peered at the monitor.
“What? Better not be nothing, or you're dead.”
Video showed palm sliced, potions tested: their basic supply, premiums, ending with NPC Potion.
“Ooh, perfect.”
Healing potions for hunters needed strong mana—toxic to normals if overkill. Fire stations stuck to basics.
Slightly better? Ideal, but none existed.
Obvious—crafters prioritized hunters, not low-profit civvie aid.
This? Gold. Exactly right.
“Right? Told ya. Open-house special: 50k. 200 stock—miss it, regret.”
Kim pondered, then dialed. “Chanyul? Yeah. Got spare potions? No borrow—new market gem, 50k each. Buying some. Perfect for us, 10-20% better than basic. Not selling you—check site. Yeah, got it.”
After calls, to Yeonghak: “Grab 100.”
“Uh... Chief.”
“What? Speak after buying. Someone snags 'em?”
“My limit's short. You got limit or 5 mil cash?”
Hyped, he'd rallied four other stations joint-buy.
But cash crunch hit.
No card limit either.
“Hold—grabbing chief's card.”
As Kim dashed to the station chief's office, NPC Potions started selling one by one elsewhere.
To be continued next chapter…