Dungeon Item Shop - Chapter 28: Dungeon math

Fresh hums as she works, her pale hands processing the small collection of glass vials. Making these potions uses more mushroom powder than she had thought they would, given their small size. They have eleven more vials in total, after the one Fresh drank before. But there’s still enough powder left for a few more potions than that. Fresh does the math in her head, tightly pressing her eyes closed as she does so.

If mushroom caps are worth five each, then these potions would have to be worth more than that by far. Assuming Jubilee could continue making their glass bottles, perhaps learning how to make them a little more… refined. Then she could grind them down, they could get their flasks basically for free. Some soul points at the very most. So that means they save costs there, right off of the bat. Plus if there’s no middle-man and they somehow manage to sell the potions directly to the people, then they could split the money fifty-fifty.

They would have to buy some caps for the vials, some labels perhaps. Oh, that meant they needed something to write with. Oh, and of course some glue to attach the labels to the flasks. And most importantly, they needed permission to sell things and a location to do so out of. Fresh stops on that thought for a time.

If Jubilee was being truthful in their frenzied whispers about how cutthroat the merchants here in this town were before, then the two of them need to do things by the book. Would they come after them, if they rocked the boat? And what if someone finds out that she’s cursed? What if someone finds out she’s a witch? Would they hurt her? Would they hurt her friend? Would the church come after them?

Fresh only just now realizes that she’s never even seen the church, despite their large presence here in this city. She’s always either only gone down the main street or been tightly glued to Jubilee.

Fresh fidgets, opening her eyes again to look at the filled vials sitting in the box next to her.

The old alchemist woman was selling her minor antidotes for twenty Obols each. But she’s a trusted source in this town, her bottles looked professionally done and labeled. Would anyone even buy their dinky looking potions? They’d have to sell them for a lower price to even have a chance, if they had to establish the people’s trust first. So… fifteen each? Fresh fidgets. From five caps she thinks she can make maybe another dozen more, give or take. Assuming the worst, that would be a total of… the girl thinks… fifteen Obols times twelve potions was…

One-hundred and eighty Obols?

Her eyes light up as she double checks her math. Even if they split that half-way, they would still each get ninety Obols for five orange mushroom caps. Compared to the twelve each from just selling them as is. Fresh’s eyes shine brightly as she shifts around on the floor. Sure, there are some start up costs involved. She looks at her dirty hands, they need more charcoal too. But that’s cheap’ish. Plus food. Water. Clothes and all of the other day to day stuff. She groans, unsure for a moment, but then shakes her head.

No! This can work! Even if a large chunk of those ninety Obols vanishes into costs, they’re still making a profit of at least double. There’s no way that this couldn’t be a lucrative idea, as long as they do it right. Fresh giddily squeezes her hands and continues filling the rest of the bottles.

She still has two other witch-crafting recipes, though she isn’t quite sure what to make of them. Isn’t there some kind of crafting menu? She’ll have to ask Jubilee when they get back.

Her bright smile never leaving her, the girl finishes her work and then covers the box back up with the cloth. The potions don’t have lids, so it would be bad if something fell into them.

Humming to herself, she gets up, wondering what she should do now? She had given most of her money to Jubilee to buy the things for this experiment, so she can’t afford to go and eat anything. And Jubilee’s gone for now, who knows for how long. She looks around the empty room, not sure what it is that she is looking for exactly. Just something to pass the time. Anything. But there’s nothing here save for the table and the bed.

“Ah!” Fresh hits her fist into her open palm, as the idea comes to her. She looks at the collection of potions below. The old alchemist woman had promised to teach her some things about alchemy if she came by again. Maybe this would be a good time to do that? The girl thinks, actually, this might just be the perfect time for that!

Beaming at her good fortune, Fresh walks to the door, eager to set foot out into the sunshine outside.

She stops. Though she’s not sure why.

Her body fidgets as she stands in front of the door. Her feet shuffle uneasily. Something is bothering her.

What if she messes this up too?

What if she says something she shouldn’t? What if the old woman asks to see her menu? What if she… What if she…

Horrified, Fresh looks down at herself, realizing the weight of the mistake she had almost just made. The front of her robe is entirely covered in streaks of bright orange powder from the ground mushrooms. Her hands and arms are smeared black with charcoal dust. Her eyes go wide, her face pale. What did she almost do?

Fearfully, the girl steps back away from the door, pulling her shaking hand away as she realizes that she almost did it again. She almost ruined everything again. This time could have been fatal. If she had walked into the alchemist’s like this, the old woman would have caught on in an instant. Fresh is sure of that. The old woman had a sharp look in her eye. Would they have hurt her?

Fresh’s eyes widen. She would be fine if the worst happened, she could respawn.

But would they have hurt Jubilee too? If they found out? She just doesn’t understand this world at all.

The girl steps back from the door, leaning against the wall behind her and slides down, falling to sit on the floor.

She’s not going to move.

She’s not going to move from this spot, not until Jubilee gets back. She’s not going to ruin it this time, not now that things are starting to come together. The girl promises herself that.