After stacking the last potato beside the field, Rowen turned back, wiping the sweat off his forehead. "Alright. Let's get the next batch growing."
He walked over to the patch of soil, ready to plant—but paused.
The basket where he'd kept leftover seeds was empty.
"...I'm out of seeds?"
Fern, still hovering nearby and munching on something invisible, rolled his eyes. "Obviously."
Rowen sighed. "So now I need to go buy more?"
Fern floated upward and made a lazy twirl with his finger. A faint swirl of green energy shimmered in the air, and with a soft pop, a small pouch appeared and gently dropped into Rowen's hands.
Rowen blinked in surprise and quickly opened it. Inside were several small, glowing potato seeds, fresh and pulsing faintly with mana.
He looked up. "These are…?"
Fern nodded. "As long as you plant and nurture crops here, the land will return seeds after harvest. You don't need to keep buying them."
Rowen was speechless for a second. "That's… actually incredible."
He knelt and began planting the next batch of seeds into the tilled soil. One by one, he covered them carefully, patting the dirt down.
Then it hit him.
"Wait," he muttered, standing up, "I haven't recharged the energy yet."
Fern gave him a lazy glance. "Yeah, don't blame me when your crops sprout slower than a turtle. Feed me already."
Rowen fished out two low-grade mana stones from his bag and tossed them toward Fern. "Eat up."
As the sprite caught them mid-air and bit into them like crunchy apples, the air around the field shimmered faintly—warmth, vitality, and a hum of life returning to the soil.
Rowen exhaled slowly.
"That gave us... sixteen points," Fern said after a moment, licking his fingers. "Still a long way to go."
Rowen didn't respond. Those two stones were his entire month's savings.
But now, with thirty glowing potatoes ready to sell, he had a real chance.
He could go out, sell this stuff, and earn mana stones—recharge the land, develop it further, and maybe even get rich.
By the time Rowen stepped out of the portal, the morning sun was already high. He checked the time—8:00 AM.
Back at the shop, he descended the stairs, flipped the sign to "OPEN," and placed the thirty glowing potatoes into a woven basket by the entrance—right where customers could easily spot them. He scribbled the price on a small board and sat behind the counter.
It felt strange.
He had never done anything like this in his entire life. He'd always been at school during shop hours. He had no idea if there was actual foot traffic here or if anyone would even show up.
Minutes passed.
Rowen noticed a few carriages and mana-powered vehicles passing by outside. Curious, he stepped out and leaned against the doorframe.
Adventurers.
Lots of them.
Where were they all going? Was there an event nearby?
Rowen locked the shop briefly and walked over to the neighboring store—a tidy, well-stocked shop with a sign that read "Brown's Scrolls & Arcana." It sold magic scrolls of all kinds: barrier scrolls, low-tier offensive spells, utility enchantments, and even communication slips. The store was owned by the Brown family, a reputable merchant family from the upper district.
Inside, the owner—Velor Brown, a middle-aged man with streaks of silver in his brown hair—looked up, mildly surprised to see Rowen.
"You're the kid running the old shop now?" he asked, then gave a small nod of recognition. "Right, your grandfather's place."
Rowen nodded back. "I was just wondering… Is it always this busy in the morning?"
Velor Brown chuckled. "Of course it is. This street's right near the border. Mornings are prime time—traders, adventurers, supply runners… everyone moves early. The shops around here sell everything from mana potions to taming beasts to enchanted tools. Even magic devices."
Rowen listened closely, absorbing every word.
No wonder the shop was always closed by the time he got home from school. The border shut down at 5:00 PM, and most merchants packed up before then.
Now it all made sense.
This place wasn't dead.
He'd just never seen it come alive.
Velor's eyes lingered on him for a second longer, thoughtful. "Shouldn't you be heading off to school by now?"
Rowen hesitated, then shook his head. "I'm not going back."
Velor raised an eyebrow. "Dropped out?"
"Yeah," Rowen said quietly. "I figured… school wasn't really for me. Not anymore. I've decided to run the shop full-time. Maybe grow and sell vegetables and see where it goes.
There was a brief silence.
Then Velor gave a slow nod, arms crossed. "Bold move. Risky, too. But your grandfather… He always said this shop had potential. Guess it's finally getting an owner again."
Rowen managed a small smile. "Thanks. I'm just figuring things out as I go."
Velor's gaze softened a bit. "Well, if you ever need scrolls—or advice—my door's open."
Rowen nodded gratefully. "I appreciate that, Mister Brown."
"Call me Uncle Velor," the man replied with a faint smile.
"Alright… Uncle Velor. Thanks again."
With that, Rowen turned to leave. As he stepped back onto the street, he gave a small wave over his shoulder. "I'll see you around."
Velor raised a hand in return. "Best of luck, kid."
Rowen made his way back to his shop, the bustle of morning activity buzzing louder around him now that he was truly noticing it—clinks of armor, laughter from passing adventurers, and the sound of mana engines.
He unlocked the door and stepped inside.
After flipping the sign to OPEN, he closed the door and walked over to the counter.
The basket of glowing potatoes was still near the entrance, easy to see from outside.
Rowen sat down behind the counter.
This was it—his first day running the shop instead of going to school.