Ch.2The Red-Haired Girl from the Slums (1)

News of the Mad Doctor’s death in Reangso Village had reached us.

Rumors said his head was severed by the blade of an unidentified silver-haired girl.

I smiled faintly upon hearing this news.

So you’ve successfully killed the first boss, Alreina.

Become a great warrior and turn the world upside down!

With a satisfied feeling, I finished the rest of my coffee and got up.

It’s time to open the shop.

* * * * *

It’s been a month since I possessed Jack, the NPC shop owner in Starting Village.

I was confused at first, but now I’ve adapted and am living quite smoothly.

Business isn’t particularly good.

This Starting Village is an extremely poor place.

Most people here have inherited poverty or are failures and destitute people who’ve tumbled down to end up here.

There are some who live with normal economic means, but even they would be considered lower class citizens in other cities.

There is an administrator who serves as the market manager or village head, but apparently he’s given up on running the village and fallen into lethargy.

In other words, it’s a complete mess.

Still, the shop isn’t doing terribly.

Occasionally travelers passing through the village stop by our shop for some shopping.

Our shop is the only one in the village that sells Healing Potions.

Due to the Potion Association’s strict Potion Management Act, for quality control purposes, Healing Potions can only be sold at certified shops in villages or cities.

The number increases depending on the size of the city, but in small places like this, there’s usually just one.

You know how in games, shops that sell potions are limited, right?

In Starting Village, that’s our shop.

We also handle beginner items like potions, fishing hooks, beginner shields, practice wooden swords, and small leather pouches.

They’re humble and plain items, but each one is precious to poor adventurers just starting their journey.

The problem is that the things I sell are specialized for adventurers leaving the village.

So I always have leftover Healing Potion stock, which is a headache.

Actually, Healing Potions aren’t just useful for adventurers.

They restore energy when drunk and quickly heal minor wounds when applied, so ordinary people can keep them at home too.

The price isn’t bad either.

Two silver coins for something that restores 50 health points is cheap.

But most people in our village are so poor that if they have that money, they have to buy food instead of potions.

I thought I could just keep them stocked until they sell out, but there’s the issue of having to comply with expiration dates according to the Potion Management Act.

As the expiration dates for potions that had been in stock since before my possession were approaching, I started to worry.

It would be too wasteful to throw them all away.

But if I sell them cheaply to adventurers and they expire, their effectiveness will decrease exponentially.

Instead of recovering 50 health points, they might only recover 30 or 20, which could be very dangerous.

After pondering what to do, I made a decision.

Since I was going to throw them away anyway, I decided to distribute them to the poor villagers.

Even if they’re past the expiration date, they just lose some recovery power, they don’t spoil or anything.

It’s similar to the concept of convenience store disposals.

From that day on, I packed potions that were a day away from disposal into a box and went out to the streets.

Wondering where to go, I headed toward the slums where the extremely poor lived.

“Hello. These are Healing Potions. Drink them for energy, apply them to heal wounds.”

I gave out one potion to each person I met.

“Hey, kid. Come here and take one. Give this to your mom.”

“I don’t have a mom.”

“Oh… I’m sorry. Then drink it yourself.”

I handed one to a scruffy little kid.

“Hey, don’t run away! I’m not trying to do anything bad! This helps heal scars!”

“Really…?”

“Of course. I made it myself. Apply a little to your scar every day.”

“Thank you!”

I gave one to a woman with a severe burn scar covering half her face.

“Sir Hostante. How’s your knee these days?”

“Every morning when I get up, I scream in pain. That’s my daily routine.”

“Here you go. This is especially for you, sir.”

“Haha, thank you, Jack. Such a precious thing.”

I gave one to an elderly former imperial knight who was discharged due to injury and lost all his retirement money to a scam.

“Congratulations on the birth. But the baby looks a bit small.”

“I couldn’t eat properly during pregnancy…”

“Feed this to the baby little by little. It’s a Healing Potion. If the baby was born with nutritional deficiencies, you should raise it with nutritional abundance.”

“Ah, something like this… Thank you…”

I also gave one to a young couple with a premature baby.

* * * * *

And so I continued to distribute Healing Potions that were about to expire.

In doing so, I gradually became acquainted with the people in the slums and started building rapport.

As I continued giving out potions, I suddenly thought about taking things a step further.

Healing Potions are mysterious elixirs that restore the energy of those who drink them.

They play the role of extending a hand to help up those who have collapsed, unable to endure their bleak situations.

However, for those who have risen to move forward, new strength is needed.

Without someone pulling from the front and pushing from behind, they will soon collapse again.

“Hey, Mirella. Come here.”

I called over a red-haired girl I had become friendly with while distributing potions.

“What?”

“What do you mean ‘what,’ you rascal. Do you know how to read?”

“Read? Of course I can’t.”

“Don’t you want to learn?”

“Why?”

“Huh…?”

“Why should I learn?”

I smiled at Mirella, who was looking up at me in confusion, and explained.

“People need to know how to read. That’s how you escape poverty.”

“Really? If I can read, I’ll become rich? Like Potion Brother?”

“I’m… rich?”

“You have a house and give out potions. Aren’t you rich?”

Right. To this child, I might seem wealthy.

“I suppose so. Anyway, do you want to learn to read?”

“If you teach me, I’ll learn. For free.”

“You little rascal. Would I charge you money?”

And so I began teaching the children of the slums how to read.

The location was my shop after closing business in the evening.

Like all starting village shops in games, it’s a large square space with furniture roughly placed inside, making it perfect for teaching children.

When I went to the village junk dealer, I was able to find a blackboard that had been discarded because its frame was slightly warped.

I asked the junk shop owner, Evan, for some wood, made a new frame, and placed it in a corner of the shop.

It would be nice to have chairs and desks, but I didn’t have enough money to give one to each child.

And since I didn’t have the skills to make them, we decided to just sit on the floor to study.

I bought lots of notebooks and pencils for the kids at the market and returned to the shop humming.

Some adventurers and villagers asked me what all this was for, and I answered that I was going to teach the children to read.

“Why go to such trouble?”

“It’s not trouble. If they can learn for just one year and use it for a lifetime, it’s an extremely profitable business.”

“But it’s not profitable for you, shopkeeper.”

“Who knows? Maybe those kids will succeed greatly someday and give me something in return.”

The adventurers burst into laughter, saying that was quite a joke.

* * * * *

On the first day of class, Mirella and three or four other children from the slums came to the shop.

“Potion Brother!”

“Come in. No, first wash your hands and feet. Hey! Don’t put your fingers in your mouth! How old are you to still be sucking your fingers?”

I took the children to the backyard and had them wash their hands, feet, and faces thoroughly with soap, one by one.

Since it was the first day, I started lightly.

I wrote letters on the blackboard one by one, taught them the pronunciation, and had them read and write.

The children stumbled over the pronunciations and scribbled with their pencils using unfamiliar hand movements.

Some kids lay on their sides, propping up their heads while listening to the lesson.

I think I need to teach them how to hold a pencil properly first.

And basic manners too.

They’ll get better if we keep at it.

* * * * *

One evening as the sun was setting.

After finishing a simple meal, I packed some Healing Potions that were due for disposal that day into a box and left the shop.

Just as I was entering the slums, someone blocked my path.

It was a rough-looking man emitting a terrible stench.

He was holding a club in his hand, suggesting he wasn’t here to ask for directions.

“You’re the potion shop owner in this village, right? I hear you’ve got lots of money.”

The large robber spoke.

“Me?”

The robber showed his clenched teeth in a grin at my question.

Strange. That face looks very familiar.

“I’ve heard rumors that you give out potions for free and teach children for free every night.”

“That’s not because I have a lot of money, it’s just…”

“Shut up!! Hand over your potions and money right now! Then I might spare your life.”

What kind of robber appears in the middle of the village before sunset?

I can’t fight this guy, so it’s probably best to just hand over everything I have.

That’s better than dying…

“Aack!”

Suddenly the robber clutched the back of his head and bent over.

A stone that had flown from somewhere had hit him hard on the back of his head.

Mirella was standing behind the crouched robber.

“Get away from Potion Brother!”

Mirella shouted in a clear voice as she picked up another stone from the ground.

“Get away right now!”

The robber flinched and hunched his body as another stone came flying.

“Mirella! Don’t come! It’s dangerous!”

“That little wench!”

The robber raised his club high, blood flowing from the back of his head.

“Mirella!”

I threw away the box of Healing Potions and rushed toward the robber.

At that moment, several stones suddenly flew in fiercely from elsewhere.

The children who were learning to read from me had gathered and started throwing stones at the robber.

Although thrown by children, stones were still stones, and the robber screamed and ran in the opposite direction.

However, the robber couldn’t go more than a few steps before having to stop.

“This is the person who shared potions with us.”

“We won’t let anyone mess with Potion Man.”

The people from the slums had blocked the alley.

“Get lost! Get lost, I said!”

The robber swung his club threateningly, but the people didn’t back down, and their numbers grew even more.

“Take him down!!”

“For Potion Man!!”

“Waaaaaaah!!”

The people all rushed at the robber at once.