A door chimed.
“Coming!” Arc called from the back of the store. He placed a wooden crate onto the floor, the numerous colorful bottles inside clinking against one another.
It had been an uneventful morning; even after realizing that he was currently in a fucking game, he had no choice but to smile and nod to the tune of Cian. His ‘mom’ threw him in front of a cash register, told him to man their family apothecary, and waved goodbye as she went off to do god knows what.
Fortunately for him, the morning was slow, and he had time to just process his whole situation.
“Dream… is this a dream?” He muttered to himself, “Or am I dead…?”
After deliberating for a few hours, interrupted by the occasional shopper, he settled on the conclusion that he couldn’t care less. All that mattered is that he had been hit by a truck, probably died, and woken up here— as if he was reincarnated.
Arc walked over to the front, a customer-service smile plastered onto his face. “How can I help you?”
A sheepish adventurer looked around the cluttered little shop. He brushed his golden hair away from his eyes and gaped at the many unfamiliar bottles and plants. “Uh, do— do you guys have healing salves?”
“Of course! We have varieties with St. John’s Wort, Ginseng, Echinacea, Snakeweed, Laurustinus, and different blends of other herbs. If you’re looking for something a bit more pricey, we’ve got Nefertem, Moly, and Acanthus.”
The adventurer stared, clearly confused. “Wh… what’s the difference?”
“Well, it depends on what kind of effect you want. Tinctures with Snakeweed are generally a good basic healing salve, while St. John’s Wort is more for relieving lighter status effects. Moly is great for countering extreme status effects like dark infection or mind break, and Acanthus is the best when it comes to all kinds of injuries.” Really, Arc was making up half of what came out of his mouth, using his knowledge of Oneiro to supplement his bullshitting. Well, he wasn’t lying about Moly— that was something he used to use quite often.
“I…” The adventurer paused, looking as lost as can be. “I’ll just get Snakeweed.”
“Do you want a small, medium, or large bottle?”
“S— no, medium. Uh, how much is that going to be?”
“It’ll be seven copper. Bag or no? Bags cost an extra clipped copper.”
The adventurer fumbled around a small money pouch, pulling out a couple of rusty coins and counting them meticulously. “No bag.” He placed the coins onto the counter, and they clattered down messily. One of the coins rolled off the counter and onto the floor.
“Ah— sorry.” The adventurer bent down to pick it up, but as he did so, he knocked over a crate filled with thin jars. Several crashed down, shattering messily onto the floor.
“Y—!” Arc began to yell in shock, but his voice suddenly cut off. Damnit! I can’t say jack shit! “You, you don’t have to worry about that.” His words trembled, and his hands clenched beside him in frustration.
“I’m so sorry!” The adventurer wore a panicked expression. “I-I, if I could, I would repay you. But, see, one of my friends is really injured, and… I’m sorry.” He repeatedly bowed down in apology, and Arc (severely against his will) simply laughed and told him it wasn’t a big deal.
Luckily, the spilled herbs inside were all dry, so cleanup wouldn’t be too bad. The adventurer paid for his healing salve and left, continuously promising to repay him in the future.
As soon as the door closed, Arc made a face. He sighed loudly and nodded with conviction. “Yeah, that’s how this world is gonna play, huh?”
He shouted towards nobody in particular. “Just ‘cause I’m a damn NPC, doesn’t mean you can mistreat me like this! Fuck!”
—
“So is that him?” A mousey adventurer emerged from a small pharmacy. In his left hand, he held a tall green bottle of Snakeweed tincture. In his right, he flicked a copper coin into the air, catching it with ease.
His expression didn’t resemble his previous, not in the slightest— his wide eyes were curved upwards in a satisfied grin, a sinister smirk painting his lips.
The adventurer hummed lightly as he strolled down the busy road, casually slipping into a side street. A few unsavory NPCs noticed and followed his slight figure into the dark, taunting laughter chasing their shadows.
A moment passed.
Out emerged a man, tall and dark-haired. He glanced around with thin eyes, surveying the crowds. Barely pausing, he stepped out of the alley, trudging away with nonchalance.
A bloody puddle leaked between the paved stones behind his receding back.
—
Arc sat behind the front desk, exhausted. After a dull morning of poking around the shop and getting his bearings, he was met with disaster and had to clean some ditz’s mess— a wondrous and refreshing experience. It was already long past noon and he had absolutely zero appetite for anything— not that he even knew where to find food. He still had no idea what he was really meant to be doing, and simply mustered his previous part-timer experience for every interaction.
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Nonetheless, he had discovered a few interesting things— one, for example, was a set of leather-bound books shelved beside the counter. They were botanical tomes and he flipped through them, staring at the faded pictures with interest. He tried reading the text but ultimately failed in understanding most of the verbose and complex descriptions.
At the very least, the books were here to keep him company. Many of the plants were ones he had never even heard of, even as a seasoned player of the game.
Ex-player, I suppose. Arc sighed bitterly. “What the hell am I even doing?”
As far as he knew, he was reborn. “Damn. I’m reincarnated, shouldn’t I have a tutorial system that I have to overcome? Some kind of goal??” The system notification that had popped up earlier conveniently never returned. He groaned, remembering the whole slew of reincarnation webnovels he had read. There was always some snarky system that continuously threw the main character into life-threatening situations.
Then I guess not having a tutorial system isn’t too bad…
“Well, whatever. It could be worse.” Not even a second after he resolved himself, a system notification appeared.
[ System Tip: Look under the front counter! ]
Arc stared at the popup with dead eyes.
He apprehensively knelt onto the hardwood floor and peered into the dark shelf below. A few dusty bottles sat, and underneath a heavy jar was pressed a folded yellowed note. Arc’s curiosity was drawn and he soon forgot his previous frustration.
“What’s this?” He lifted the slip of paper to his face, examining the surface as he stood, brushing off his pants. Unfolding the note, Arc’s eyebrows furrowed when he saw what was written inside.
Brugmansia - 10 mg
Curare - 100 mg
Jimson - 75 mg
…
The list continued, and several items were even crossed out. On a folded corner, the word ‘honeysuckle’ was written and circled several times. Arc made a face as he scrutinized the names, noting the unfamiliar words. He made his way over to an encyclopedia for medicinal plants and began flipping through it, attempting to match their names.
Is this a shopping list? Do I have to buy them or something?
After several minutes of searching, Arc came up short. He moved on to another next book, determined to discover the meaning behind this note. Several minutes passed with no luck— that was, until, Arc noticed a worn tome shoved in between two thick encyclopedias. He tentatively plucked it out and brushed off the dust, reading the faded title.
[ Poisons and Other Useful Herbs for Beginner Witches: Edition 17 ]
“Poisons…?” Arc flipped through it slowly. He wasn’t even ten pages in before he found one of the list items, Curare, a potent sedative— used in darts, it could cause asphyxiation through the sedation of muscles required for breathing. Soon after, he encountered a dual-page spread on Brugmansia and Jimson— Angel and Devil’s trumpet, respectively. “Hallucinogenic drugs… that cause hysteria, insanity, and death.” Arc read the description, a disturbed expression growing on his face. Why the hell was Cian researching these things?
He looked back down at the list. And why does it seem like he was brewing something with them?
The door chimed, signifying that a customer had entered. Arc snapped to attention and shoved the botanical tomes to the side, throwing on another phony smile.
“Welcome! How can I help you?”
A teenage girl entered, her long brown hair swishing around as she turned her head to and fro. She donned a set of light leather armour and was clearly new to the game. Once it seemed like she confirmed something, the girl focused her attention onto Arc and beelined towards the counter.
“Hey, I was just wondering, do you guys have honeysuckle petal tea?” She asked resolutely as she casually leaned onto the counter.
Arc internally deadpanned, but he maintained his beaming exterior. He was about to answer that they did when his voice moved on his own. “We just ran out today! Sorry for the inconvenience.”
The hell, why did it just block me? Did I do something wrong? He eyed the full jar that was clearly marked ‘honeysuckle.’ What’s going on?
“Good to know. Do you have it?” The girl leaned forward, lowering her voice.
Have… what? Arc waited for Cian to answer. Nothing happened. Fucking hell, of course it doesn’t auto-play for me at this moment. He stammered out a hesitant response. “N-no, we don’t have it.” On god, I hope what I’m doing is right.
“Not yet?” The girl hissed. She glanced down at the note between his fingers.
Arc started, crumpling the list of poisons into his fist, just now realizing that he had forgotten to put it away. She scowled at him. “You have the list right there. What the hell is the holdup?”
“The… list?” Cian was really pulling his weight, not even bothering to ‘automatically’ answer for Arc. Of all times to stop working, now isn’t the time—! “Yeah, haha, the list.” Arc’s mind raced, and he realized the girl was looking for the list of poisons clutched in his hands. “Y-yeah, those aren’t ready yet. Give it—”
“Look!” She raised her voice to a yell. “We’ve got five bloody days! Five, you understand? Get them in by tomorrow or you’re out.” The girl slammed another note into Arc’s hand before turning tail and storming out, the door slamming lazily against the bell as it fell closed.
Arc picked up the note he was just handed— the second of this hectic day— and looked over the folded paper.
Dropoff location: Tuesday, noon, Vinterhalter’s Square
DON’T FORGET: Saturday evening, 7 pm, King’s Banquet.
“What even is this shit?” Arc was even more confused than before. He cursed at whatever reincarnation system brought him here and didn’t give him Cian’s memories. A system message popped up, alerting him.
[ System Tip: Flip the note over! ]
Dismissing the popup, Arc warily flipped the note over. In different handwriting than before, four simple words were neatly drawn out—
You are the fallback.
A cold sense of dread settled over his body.
This whole day was a cluttered mess of nothing, and yet everything seemed to be connected— the jumpy adventurer, the list of poisons, and the girl’s note. Dots began to connect in Arc’s head, but something fundamental was still missing in his understanding.
What is going on? Who…
“Who really was Cian?”