Ron stood in front of the Blake Exchange, looking at the still precarious, already cracked wooden sign.
The humid air unique to the Black Mist Jungle had covered the edges of the sign with greenish-blue moss, adding a strange atmosphere to this dark place.
"Welcome! Welcome, esteemed Ron!"
The short and stout slave merchant rushed out from the shop with astonishing speed, his round face flushed red, with sweat streaming down his plump cheeks, soaking his collar.
His small eyes, deeply set in folds of flesh, glinted with shrewdness, clearly having anticipated this alchemist's visit.
"Your presence today truly brings radiance to this rundown place!"
The merchant said obsequiously, bowing humbly with exaggerated movements that were almost comical.
Ron keenly noticed that compared to the last time, the merchant's attitude was significantly more respectful.
