Alex's spiteful glare alone was enough to send the scammer running. The man scurried away in shame, his face pale, his scam fully exposed for everyone to see.
Alex turned back toward the crowd, his gaze searching before locking onto the girl who had handed him the flowers earlier.
He remembered her help. And he had decided to repay her.
"And I couldn't have done it without her help!" Alex suddenly declared, pointing at the little girl holding her flower basket.
Her eyes widened, face flushing as she froze in place.
"Wha—what!?" she exclaimed, nearly dropping her basket in shock.
The crowd immediately stirred.
"Really?"
"Now that you mention it, he did use some flowers when he mixed that cure…"
Dozens of gazes shifted toward the girl's basket.
The crowd began pressing in, but even though they were beggars and lowlifes from the slums, there were still unspoken rules. No one dared to stoop so low as to steal from a little girl.
So they did what they always did.
They haggled.
They offered the few coins they had, hoping to buy the same flowers Alex had just used. To them, those flowers weren't just petals anymore—they carried the same miracle Alex had shown before their eyes.
"I'll buy what he used!" a man shouted, holding up a pouch with three battered coins inside.
Another, with empty pockets, scratched his head awkwardly. "How about this? I'll help you sell the rest of your flowers in exchange for just one of the ones he mixed in!"
The girl blinked, overwhelmed by the sudden attention. But slowly, a small smile began to form on her lips. For the first time in a long while, she had customers. Real business. A chance to survive another day.
Alex allowed himself a faint smile at the sight. Using the distraction, he quietly slipped away, walking off through the crowd and back toward his shack.
He hoped that this little "show" would spread his name, even just a little, as a healer in the slums. If he was lucky, the debt collector he helped earlier would also recommend him to wealthier patrons.
"That's one problem solved…" Alex muttered, rubbing his chin. "Next should be my supply… I'll need a ton of herbs."
At first, he thought about gathering them himself. But he quickly dismissed the idea. Even with his Eye of Ophiuchus and general knowledge of the land, it wouldn't be efficient.
"I could probably get someone else to do that job for me," he murmured.
Easier said than done.
But he already had a plan forming in the back of his mind.
It would be a simple trade. People could collect herbs for him, and in return, he would offer free healing.
Normally, that kind of deal would ruin someone—healers in this world lived off their fees, after all. But Alex was different. His Eye boosted the effects of anything he made, and his ability acted as an instant crafting station. Offering free healing in exchange for herbs wasn't a loss for him at all.
"The real question is… who would actually be able to work for me?"
His first thought was the slum residents. But with more consideration, he realized they weren't ideal at all.
They were already struggling just to survive. Free healing wouldn't matter if they starved to death. They simply didn't have the time or energy to work for him on top of their daily suffering.
Alex sighed, thinking harder. He needed a solution that actually worked.
And then it clicked.
The herbalist shop.
Located near the town proper, it was a small trade hub for herbs and medicines. A herbalist wouldn't mind trading with him. In fact, a deal where they supplied him with herbs in exchange for guaranteed healing was the most fair, win-win trade he could imagine.
"Good thing the general knowledge I inherited is finally becoming useful," Alex smirked.
Changing direction, he turned away from his shack and instead walked toward the exit of the slums.
Suddenly, a translucent screen popped up in front of his eyes.
[Rewards Granted for Mission Completion]
[Common-Tier Equipment Granted: Apothecary's Satchel]
A flash of light erupted from his chest, shaping itself into a leather satchel that settled against his hip like a slingbag.
[Completely stops herbs or any medicinal items from decomposing or expiring. Storage is bottomless.]
Alex froze, staring at it.
'What…? That sounds way too good to be just common-tier…' His thoughts spun in disbelief.
Bottomless storage. Permanent freshness. That was more like a legendary-tier artifact!
'Makes me wonder what an actual legendary-tier item would look like…'
He tightened his grip on the strap, feeling the satchel's rough leather texture. Outwardly, it looked plain and ordinary. Inwardly, it was priceless.
Another window appeared.
[User: Alex Mercer]
[Race: Human]
[Attributes:]
Vitality: 16 (+2)
Strength: 15 (+2)
Dexterity: 17 (+2)
Mana: 7 (+2)
[Skills:]
Eye of Ophiuchus: Ability (2/10)
Eye of Ophiuchus: Passive (2/10)
Alex's eyes widened at the sudden jump.
'What…? Why did all my stats suddenly rise so high? I thought the reward was only +2 each?'
Then realization dawned on him. The first time he saw his stats, he had been weak, malnourished, and on the verge of collapsing. But when he drank the healing potion earlier, it had restored his body to a normal, healthy condition.
So this wasn't just the system boosting him. It was his body finally catching up to what "normal" actually meant.
"As for the weird 2/10 next to my skills…" He frowned, but shook his head. "No point worrying. I'll figure it out eventually."
He walked on. After a few more minutes through the dirty, uneven streets of the slums, he reached the border.
It wasn't a proper wall—just a shabby wooden gate left wide open, no guards, no checks. Anyone could come and go.
'I thought the divide between rich and poor would be stricter,' Alex mused. 'Guess not.'
He smirked faintly and crossed the threshold into the town.
Immediately, eyes turned toward him.
Not all of them were kind. Some were judging, others dismissive. But most were simply confused.
Here was a man dressed in ragged clothes, with a flask at his side and a satchel on his hip… yet his body looked strong and healthy, nothing like the frail, starving figures they were used to seeing from the slums.
People muttered, but quickly looked away. After all, the slums were vast—surely there were bound to be a few unusual individuals here and there.
Alex ignored their stares, his own eyes widening at the sight before him.
The town was exactly what he had imagined from a fantasy world.
The Adventurers' Guild stood proudly at the center. Food stalls lined the streets, the smell of grilled meat and fresh bread wafting through the air. Stone houses stood tall, medieval in style, and among the crowd, he spotted a few non-human races—elves, beastkin, even a lone lizardman lumbering by.
"Whoa…" Alex whispered, then frowned. "And instead of starting here, I had to start in the slums as a beggar?"
His lips twisted bitterly.
"Did my life of handing out medicine, and even sacrificing myself to save someone, not earn me enough karma to start better in this world?"
He shook his head in disappointment.
"…Never mind."
Lifting his gaze again, Alex steadied himself.
"No use dwelling on it."