As he walked through the bustling streets of the city, he noticed various shops and adventurers busy with their activities.
"Where can I find a potion shop?" he wondered as he searched for directions to the store. Despite his recent success, he felt the pressing need for quick health regeneration.
While walking, he spotted a shop with a sign that read "Regen Shop." As he entered, he was immediately hit by the smell of herbal potions. The inside of the shop was filled with shelves containing various bottles—potions for stamina, magic, and, most importantly, health regeneration.
He approached the counter where the potion seller, an old man with a long beard, smiled at him.
"Looks like you got yourself in a tough fight, kid," the potion seller said, eyeing Bulan's condition. "You need a health potion, don't you?"
Bulan sighed. "Yes, I need a quick health regen. Do you have any potions that are cheap but effective?"
The potion seller nodded and retrieved a bottle from behind the counter. "This is the Min Health Potion. It quickly regenerates half your health points, enough to get you back to 100%."
Bulan checked the price.
Potion Item: Min Health Potion
Price: 20 Pesos
He paused to think about whether the potion would be effective before pulling out his money. "Okay, I'll take one."
Bulan immediately paid for the potion and wasted no time drinking it. He felt a warm energy spreading through his body as his health points gradually rose.
Health Points: __20_30_40_50_60_70__
"I feel much better," he said as he stretched his body.
"The Devourer Slimes are the reason for your exhaustion, right?" the potion seller asked. "Those creatures are strong, but if you want to be prepared for tougher battles, you'll need a stronger guild."
Bulan's eyes sparkled with excitement. "A Guild?? How can I join a guild?" he asked, his voice brimming with enthusiasm.
"At your current level, I'm sure you'll have a hard time entering even a low-level guild."
"What do you mean?" he asked curiously.
"Only Level 20 and above are accepted in guilds. You also need a permanent weapon," the potion seller explained.
Bulan furrowed his brow at what the potion seller said. "Permanent weapon? Isn't this fist enough?"
The potion seller froze, then slowly leaned forward, squinting at Bulan as if trying to determine whether he was serious.
"Your… fists?" the old man echoed, his voice rising in disbelief.
Bulan nodded confidently, "Yeah. These fist took down 10 Devourer Slimes."
For a moment, the shop was silent. Then, the potion seller threw his head back and erupted into a booming laugh. It was the kind of laugh that made shelves shake and startled a nearby cat into bolting out the door.
"You—you're serious?" he wheezed, clutching his sides. "You're walking around fighting monsters with your bare hands? Kid, this isn't a tavern brawl!"
Bulan frowned, crossing his arms defensively. "What's so funny? It worked. I beat them all!"
The potion seller wiped a tear from his eye, still chuckling. "Oh, I don't doubt it, lad. But fists? Against Devourer Slimes? That's like using a wooden sword to cut down a tree! Sure, you can do it, but why would you?"
"I don't need a weapon," Bulan said stubbornly, flexing his fingers. "These fists are my weapon!"
The old man grinned and leaned over the counter, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "Alright, tough guy. Let me tell you something. Fists might work now, but what about when you face something bigger? Say… a Lava Serpent? Or a Titan Crab? You think your knuckles can crack armor or withstand molten lava?"
Bulan opened his mouth to retort, then paused. The image of punching a crab the size of a wagon or trying to box with a fire-breathing serpent made him hesitate. "I mean… I'd figure it out…"
The potion seller laughed even harder, slapping the counter. "You're an optimistic one, I'll give you that! Listen, kid. You need a permanent weapon that can be upgraded as you grow stronger. Guilds will not accept members without adequate equipment and skills."
"Oh no..." Bulan scratched his head. "What else do I need besides a permanent weapon and Level 20?"
The potion seller took a sip of tea before answering. "Aside from your level and a permanent weapon, you'll need to gain the approval of a Guild Master. Joining a guild isn't a walk in the park—each Guild Master has their own criteria for selecting members. Typically, they will test your abilities in various aspects—through quests, battles, or special trials."
Bulan pondered this. "So, I really need to work hard to reach Level 20 and get a permanent weapon. But where can I find such a weapon?"
The potion seller nodded and pulled out a map from behind the counter, he laid it out in front of Bulan.
"Here," the old man said, tapping the map with a bony finger. "The Kingdom of Luntian. They're famous for their unique materials—rare ores and enchanted gems that can be forged into permanent weapons. Weapons strong enough to last a lifetime, imbued with properties that grow alongside their wielder."
Bulan scanned the location with his minimap. The Kingdom of Luntian were located in a remote area, filled with mystery and danger. But if he wanted to enter a guild and become stronger, he needed to face the challenge.
"I accept," he said firmly. "I will do whatever it takes to obtain that permanent weapon and reach Level 20."
The potion seller smiled. "You have a long journey ahead, young one. But remember, every step will make you stronger. Once you meet the requirements, you can come back here. I know some Guild Masters who might give you a chance."
"Thank you Old man!" Bulan said before leaving.
As Bulan strode out of the shop, his figure fading into the bustling streets of Ustina, the potion seller's sharp gaze lingered on the door long after it closed.
"That kid…" he murmured, his voice low and thoughtful. He leaned back in his creaking chair, the steam from his tea curling lazily into the air. "No beginner should be able to take down 10 Devourer Slimes barehanded, no matter how reckless or stubborn they are."
He set his teacup down with a quiet clink, the sound resonating in the stillness of the shop. Tapping his fingers against the counter, he let his thoughts drift to the strange energy that had surrounded Bulan. It wasn't just raw determination—it was something deeper, something far more unsettling.
"Could he be…?" The potion seller shook his head, dismissing the thought. "No, it's too early to tell."
The shop's door swung open, the small bell above it chiming softly. A figure stepped in, tall and shrouded in a faint aura of ethereal light. The shop seemed to dim in comparison, as though the brilliance of his presence demanded the world around him to adjust.
The potion seller raised an eyebrow, setting his tea down. "A celestial adventurer, here of all places?"
The man before him was strikingly handsome, his sharp features framed by silvery hair that shimmered as though spun from starlight. His deep, golden eyes carried an air of confidence, as if the world was his to command. He wore a flowing azure cloak adorned with intricate celestial patterns, and at his side hung a blade that seemed forged from the night sky itself.
"Mist," the man introduced himself with a polite nod, his voice smooth as silk.
The potion seller chuckled. "Ah, the famed Celestial Adventurer. What brings someone of your standing to my humble shop?"
Mist approached the counter, his movements graceful and deliberate. "I'm in need of a special tea, old man. The kind that can… enhance one's charisma, let's say."
The potion seller's eyes twinkled knowingly. "Ah, the Handsome Tea. A rare request, but I do keep some in stock for adventurers who like to… make an impression."
Mist smirked, leaning casually against the counter. "Not just any impression. If the stories are true, a single cup of this tea is enough to make any woman fall head over heels."
The potion seller's grin widened as he prepared a cup of the sought-after tea. He moved with practiced ease, but his sharp ears caught something peculiar. As he poured the steaming liquid into a delicate porcelain cup, Mist's hand flicked toward his communication orb, which began to glow faintly.
The potion seller pretended not to notice, his hands busy with the tea, but his curiosity piqued.
"Mist," the man on the communication orb greeted, his voice firm and commanding. "What's the urgency?"
"There's a boy," Mist said, his voice low and cautious. "A Level 0 adventurer. I saw him fighting Devourer Slimes—barehanded."
The man's expression remained stoic, but his eyebrows raised slightly. "And he survived?"
"More than that," Mist replied. "He drank a Beginner's Boost and managed to take them all down. No weapon. Just his fists."
The man's gaze hardened. "Impossible. Even a seasoned adventurer would risk death using that potion without preparation. Are you sure?"
Mist nodded gravely. "I saw him myself."
The man leaned forward, her image shimmering in the orb. "This isn't something to take lightly, Mist. If what you're saying is true, that boy might be more than just a reckless novice. Keep an eye on him. I'll send someone to investigate."
Mist hesitated. "And if he becomes a threat?"
The man's eyes narrowed. "Then we'll deal with him accordingly."
The orb dimmed, its light fading until the room was silent once more. Mist sighed. "You're an interesting one, Newbie," he muttered. "Let's see how far those fists of yours will take you."
As Mist turned back to his tea, the potion seller's keen gaze lingered on him. "You seem troubled," the old man said casually, though his tone hinted at deeper awareness. "What's this about a bare-fisted boy taking down Devourer Slimes?"
Mist sipped the Handsome Tea, a faint smile playing on his lips as the potion's subtle warmth coursed through him. "Let's just say the kid's making waves. Big ones. Too big for a Level 0."
The potion seller's brows furrowed. He leaned forward, lowering his voice. "The last time I heard of someone breaking limits like that… well, it didn't end well."
Mist didn't respond immediately, his golden eyes scanning the shelves as though weighing his words. Finally, he placed the empty cup down with deliberate precision. "Do you believe in fate, old man? That certain people are meant to shape the world, for better or worse?"
The potion seller scoffed lightly, though his expression betrayed a flicker of unease. "Fate's a tricky thing. It can make heroes out of fools and monsters out of saints. That boy… if he's as unusual as you say, he might end up as both."
Mist nodded thoughtfully. "Perhaps. But it's not just about him anymore. If he draws the attention of the higher powers, it could throw the balance into chaos."
The potion seller's gaze darkened. "Higher powers, you say? You think they're watching already?"
Mist stood, brushing a hand through his shimmering hair. "They're always watching. But this boy's antics might force their hand. And if that happens…" He paused, glancing at the door through which Bulan had left. "...he'll need more than just fists."
The potion seller stroked his beard, the weight of Mist's words settling over him like a storm cloud. "Then maybe it's time someone taught the kid what he's truly capable of."
Mist turned to leave, the ethereal glow of his cloak catching the dim light. "Maybe," he agreed, though his tone was noncommittal.