The alchemy pill business was perhaps the most lucrative industry in the entire world.
Alchemy pills were used for many things — healing, rejuvenation, detoxification, and, most importantly, cultivation.
Legend even had it that some mystical alchemy pills could resurrect the dead!
Alchemy pills were divided into different grades, as were the alchemists who made them.
There were eight known grades of alchemists below the royal lands. But in the Lands of Cities, there were hardly any Third-Grade alchemists. Instead, there were only First-Grade alchemists — known as "White Alchemists" — and Second-Grade, or "Green Alchemists," in the low-level lands.
In River-Flower City, there was only one White Alchemist, and he lived like a king in the City Lord's Mansion, in the city's inner region.
Alchemists were treated like rare treasures, since only one in a million people had the talent to become one. Naturally, they were prized like gems — especially in places like the Lands of Cities, where even a White Alchemist was rare.
River-Flower City was only a 2-star city, yet having a White Alchemist alone gave it a standing higher than many 1-star cities.
In the outer region, pills were made by novice alchemists, who were nonetheless treated with respect — which made them a rather arrogant bunch.
A novice could practice alchemy fairly easily, so long as they had a formula for a low-level, or "Half-White Grade," pill and the necessary medicinal herbs.
Selling those low-level pills to alchemy shops could easily earn enough money for more materials — so even failed pills sold for a decent sum. That's why even a novice alchemist looked down on almost everyone.
Ace reached the outer region pill market in haste.
He was gloomy, brooding over Alina's condition and, 'How the hell am I supposed to rob that swindler's shop?!'
He loitered near Fatty's shop, watching him from a distance. He noticed that Fatty treated people differently depending on their clothes, not their faces — judging at a glance whether someone was rich or poor.
If he decided someone was rich, he'd fawn over them like they were his own father. But if someone in plain clothes showed up, Fatty looked at them with contempt — not even bothering to hear what they needed before handing them a black "trash pill," just as he had with Ace.
Watching this, Ace clenched his fists in anger, his heart aching at the thought of having been cheated out of eight gold coins.
Finally, he reined in his rage and thought of a way to test the waters.
He glanced around and spotted a clothes shop nearby. He strode toward it; a young woman stood inside — fair, pretty, with a slim figure.
"Welcome, customer." Clair Aaron was an eighteen-year-old girl who often helped out at her father's clothes shop.
Today was one of those days. When she turned to greet the new customer, she saw a thin, young boy looking around curiously. His face was handsome — if not for his shabby clothes and skinny frame, she would've assumed he came from a wealthy family.
Ace was browsing when he heard her crisp voice. He turned and saw a pretty young woman watching him with a hint of curiosity.
"Are you buying, or just looking around?" Clair asked with a smile. The boy looked at her, embarrassed, and she found it rather amusing.
"I-I want to buy," Ace said tensely.
"What are you looking for?" Clair smiled broadly.
Ace glanced around and spotted a black outfit — simple, with only a little silver embroidery. "I want that black attire," he said, pointing.
Clair followed his finger. "That one is ten silver coins."
"So expensive!" Ace muttered to himself.
He took a deep breath and, half-heartedly, drew a gold coin from his pocket — his last one. His heart ached; he'd never imagined a single outfit could cost ten silvers.
Seeing the gold coin in his trembling hand, Clair giggled as she took it. "There's a changing room in the back if you'd like to wear it out, or would you like it packed instead?"
"I'll change here." There was clear pain in his voice at the money lost.
"Go ahead, then — I'll get your change ready."
Ace grabbed the outfit and headed for the changing room.
A while later, Clair returned with ninety silver coins in a palm-sized pouch. Ace emerged from the changing room in his new black attire just as she arrived.
Seeing him in his new clothes, Clair froze for a moment.
'So handsome,' she thought. He no longer looked anything like a beggar.
Despite his thin frame, he now looked like the scion of some wealthy family, not a poor young boy.
Ace glanced at her, thinking she looked a little dazed. "Is that for me?" he asked, pointing at the pouch in her hand.
His voice snapped her out of her stupor, and she replied quickly, flustered and faintly blushing, "Y-yes!" — handing him the pouch of silver.
Ace took it and hung it at his waist. Now he looked every bit an aristocrat's son. He turned to leave the shop when Clair's voice called after him.
"W-what's your name, little brother?" A deep blush colored her cheeks.
Ace looked at her, puzzled. 'Why's she being so polite all of a sudden?'
Still, he answered, "Ace White," and hurried out of the shop.
Clair murmured under her breath, "Ace, huh? They say clothes make the man. Seems it's true." Her blush deepened.
Ace made his way toward Fatty's shop, hands folded behind his back like some arrogant noble's son — a pose he'd seen enough wealthy young men strike to imitate convincingly.
Billy Bill was well known in the outer region's pill market for his shrewd, calculating nature. He was also one of the wealthiest shop owners in the district.
But the commoners had another name for him: "Billy the Swindler." He didn't have an ounce of integrity — if he judged someone poor, he'd cheat them without hesitation, all while telling himself he was merely charging them for the privilege of dirtying his floor.
Today was a typical day for Billy; business was going smoothly. He'd even swindled a poor woman who'd come in for a healing pill earlier.
He was about to close up for lunch when he spotted a young man in black attire approaching the shop — and, as always, he sized him up by his clothes.
'Hmm, that outfit looks expensive. Walks like a big fish, too.' He immediately abandoned his plan to close and hurried out to greet the boy personally, a fawning smile plastered on his fat face.
"Welcome, young master, to this humble fatty's shop."
Wealthy customers called him "Fatty Billy," and he didn't mind at all — as long as they had money, he didn't care what they called him.
The young man in black was, of course, Ace.
When Fatty Billy greeted him with that oily smile, Ace's anger flared, since Billy didn't even recognize the boy he'd swindled two days earlier. He wanted to smash the man's teeth in, but he held his fury in check.
Playing the rich kid's part, he sniffed, "Fatty, I've heard your shop sells quality pills. I'm here to see if that's true."
Billy's smile widened, the folds of his face nearly swallowing his small eyes. "Young master is too kind — but you heard right. My humble shop's pills are number one in the entire outer region market. I'd stake my life on it." He thumped his chest, and his whole body wobbled.
Ace wanted to murder the shameless man on the spot, but he took a deep breath to steady his boiling anger.
"I'm not here to buy right now. I'm here on behalf of my family. But if your pills are truly good quality, we'll buy in bulk," Ace said, suppressing the urge to kick Billy where it hurt.
Fatty Billy startled, then brightened. 'Could he be from the inner region?'
He didn't dare ask outright — if the boy really was from the inner region, displeasing him could cost Billy his life, and no one would even notice.
Deciding to test the waters, Billy said politely, "Yes, yes, young master, please follow me. Let me show you our finest collection."
He led Ace to the back of the shop — but there was only a bare wall. Ace was about to say something when Billy pulled a thin, rectangular crystal card from his pocket.
It was glossy blue, etched with strange markings.
Billy swept the card in front of the wall. Ace thought the man had lost his mind — until, miraculously, the blank wall vanished, and a white door appeared out of thin air.
Ace froze, stunned. He'd only come to scout the shop and gather information — he hadn't imagined a hidden door like this existed.
Gloomily, he thought of the System's mission: 'The reward's based on performance. If I don't steal something valuable, I'll get nothing but scraps.'
Now he had to find a way through a door he couldn't even see properly. How could he not feel a flicker of despair?
Just then, he heard the System's voice in his mind.
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[Target in range! Would the Host like to scan the target?]
{Cost: 2 Thief Points}
{Yes/No}
=====
'What?' Ace didn't understand what this meant, but seeing the 2 TP cost, he cursed inwardly. 'She's robbing me again! I haven't even earned a single TP, and I'm already being forced to spend them. Who's the real thief here?'
He transmitted his thought through gritted teeth: "Scan the target."
His remaining TP dropped from 14 to 12.
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[Scan initiated... Complete in 10 seconds.]
=====
While Ace and the System conversed, only a second had passed outside. Billy had been watching Ace's reaction the whole time, and when he saw a brief frown flicker across his face, then fade into calm, he grew even more convinced of his earlier guess.
Not daring to delay further, Billy opened the secret door with the crystal card and gestured. "Young master, please."
Ace stepped into the secret room. Two tall, bulky, armed men stood guard inside.
'They've even got guards in here.'
He looked around.
Two large shelves stood in opposite corners of the hidden room, lined with rows of gleaming bottles filled with colorful pills. He'd never seen so many pills in his life — nothing like the black pill this bastard had sold him.
Ace even felt refreshed just breathing the air in here, his mind growing clearer.
'So this is what real alchemy pills look like.' He was genuinely amazed.
"Young master, what do you think of my little collection? All Half-White Grade pills," Fatty Billy said proudly.
Hearing "Half-White Grade," Ace was inwardly stunned — he knew even the cheapest of these pills would sell for at least ten Ruby Coins, and there were hundreds of them here.
'This bastard is filthy rich!'