Sylas slipped into an inconspicuous shop. Wares lined the walls, displayed quite crudely. The shelves they sat on looked like they might collapse at any time, but there was a steady flow of customers in and out. There might not be a large number of them, but they were consistent, and each one had a small conversation with the middle-aged woman behind the counter that warmed the atmosphere and made it clear they were repeat visitors.
This was a shop that exuded a quaint sense of peace, a mom-and-pop shop that formed the heart of a neighborhood.
But rather than comfort foods or simple dry cleaning services, this shop sold Elixirs and various consumable items at an extraordinarily competitive market price.
"Oh? I haven't seen you around here. New?" the middle-aged woman smiled.
