The first rays of dawn struggled to pierce the thick, cold mist clinging to the landscape. An endless line of merchant carriages snaked through the gloom, the rhythmic thud of hooves and creak of wheels breaking the silence. This was the Union caravan, a collective of merchants who traveled together for safety and efficiency as they transported their wares across kingdoms.When space allowed, the caravans offered passage to travelers for a modest fee, filling their otherwise empty carriages with adventurers seeking new horizons or common folk journeying to distant towns. At the tail end of this procession, a carriage rumbled along, carrying a diverse group of passengers. Some had the weathered look of seasoned adventurers, while others appeared to be ordinary people on personal journeys. In one corner, huddled beneath a thin, ragged blanket, sat Haru.

"Ahhchooo!" Haru sniffled, pulling the thin blanket tighter around his shoulders as a shiver wracked his body. "Dammit, why is it so cold," he muttered, shifting uncomfortably. His usual clothes were gone, replaced by rough, ill-fitting garments already showing signs of wear. He looked no better than a common beggar, a far cry from... well, from what exactly?

Two weeks had passed since the guild fiasco, and Haru still couldn't wrap his head around it. What exactly did he say to piss off Becker and the others so badly?

Everyone knew the Kingdom of Crown Almighty was swimming in slaves. It wasn't a secret. Crown City straight up ran on slave labor, and the whole kingdom was number one in the slave trade out of all the Seven Human Kingdoms. They even had slave auctions every other week, right out in the open like it was no big deal.

Even kids knew about slaves here. Noble brats had them like toys. It wasn't taboo; it was just how things were. So what the hell did he say that was so bad?

Getting kicked out of the guild stung, no doubt, but Haru wasn't one to wallow. He'd burned that bridge, true, but the Kingdom of Cranch awaited, and with it, the chance to unleash his master plan to make money. His secret weapon? A miracle elixir unlike anything the World of Kladin had ever seen.

There was just one tiny problem: his alchemy skills were pretty much non existent.

Turns out, even with cheap components, botching a potion hundreds of times puts a serious dent in your funds. By the time he finally brewed a successful batch, his funds had been seriously drained. He was too broke to use the mana infused teleporters that could've zapped him straight to the Kingdom of Cranch.

"No biggie," he thought. "I'll just take a carriage. It'll take longer, but hey, more time to work on my magic circuit." Oh, how wrong he was.

The journey wasn't a straight shot, riddled with unexpected stops and ever-increasing travel costs. Haru's funds dwindled fast. Attempted to keep his head up high, he figured he'd pick up some quests from the local guild branches along the way. Oh, the naivete.

Stepping into the first guild branch, Haru was slammed with a harsh lesson in the economics of adventuring. Every F-rank quest board was practically bare, picked clean by the ravenous hordes of low-level adventurers. Higher-ranked quests were off-limits, and his pleas for a loan were met with laughter and ridicule.

For the first time since regressing, Haru realized he had underestimated adventurers. Making money was hard, and F-rank quests offered a pittance, often not enough to survive. The caravan? They didn't care about his sob story. No money, no ride.

With his options dwindling faster than his funds, Haru had to sell off his mana stones he had bought to finish up his magic circuit and even his gear just to keep his spot on the carriage. Two weeks later, he was practically a pauper. The only thing keeping him from starving was the jerky he made from that wolf meat way back when.

"We're approaching the border of the Kingdom of Cranch! Anyone getting off, do so now. This caravan's heading to Thalassa after this."

Haru clambered out of the carriage, the only passenger disembarking at this desolate outpost. The caravans wasted no time in leaving, eager to put distance between themselves and this border.

It wasn't a surprise. At this time, the Kingdom of Cranch was wrestling with a nasty plague, and nobody wanted to get caught in the middle of it.

Haru trudged onward, his open-toe flip-flops kicking up dust on the barren path. In the distance, a village emerged from the hazy horizon. There were no guards at the entrance, and as he stepped into the eerily quiet streets, it became clear why. The place was practically deserted, or at least seemed to be.

The few villagers who could be seen scurried away at the sight of him, while others slammed their shutters closed, their faces showing disdain towards him.

The plague's grip was relentless, reaching even the most remote corners of the Kingdom of Cranch, including this far off village. Haru knew this land was living on borrowed time.

His stomach rumbled, reminding him of his empty belly. He took out another stick of wolf jerky, only to retch at the smell. Weeks of this dried-out meat had pushed his tolerance to its limit. The mere scent was enough to churn his stomach.

He checked his pouch. Three measly copper Kladi. It was the smallest denomination used within the seven kingdoms. A single Klador was worth a thousand of these copper pieces – and wouldn't even buy him a cup of hot milk tea. Setting up shop here hadn't been the plan, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

"Just enough for a decent meal and a ride to the next town," he muttered. "Then I'm out of here."

Haru spread out his worn blanket, the same one that had shielded him from the weeks of chilly nights, and carefully arranged his wares. Two dozen small, unassuming bottles filled with his precious potion were lined up. In front, a hastily scribbled sign propped up behind them.

Stolen story; please report.

He cleared his throat and bellowed his carefully crafted slogan: "Miracle Cure for sale! It will heal you of your problems and provide you with half a day's worth of energy for the low, low price of three Kladi!"

He shouted for close to half an hour.

Silence. Not a single soul approached. Haru scratched his head, bewildered. Was it the price? He'd deliberately kept it low, considering the villagers' likely meager means.

Just as doubt began to creep in, a horse-drawn carriage rolled to a stop before him. The driver, a man with a shrewd glint in his eyes, surveyed Haru's setup and shook his head.

"Listen, kid, take it from someone who's been around the block," the man began with the confidence of a seasoned veteran. "You gotta up your game. This whole presentation screams 'amateur hour.' Invest in a proper stall, ditch those cheap bottles—nobody's gonna buy a miracle cure that looks like swamp water. Check this out."

He tossed a shimmering glass bottle to Haru, its surface adorned with delicate gold speckles. It practically radiated luxury.

"See? That's how you grab attention. Perception is everything. Hire a few shills to blend in with the crowd, pick one for a dramatic 'before and after' demo. And one last thing—ditch this backwater village. Head for the capital, that's where the real money is. But hurry, the king's cracking down on folks like us. Shame, really. But hey, I've already made my fortune, so I don't have to worry anymore," he laughed.

Haru's jaw dropped as realization dawned on him. "Wait a minute, my product isn't fake!"

"Riiight, you and me both." The man just winked and chuckled, clearly not taking him seriously.

A vein throbbed on Haru's forehead. "I'm serious! This stuff actually cures the disease! It even increases endurance and wipes away fatigue! Don't you dare compare it to your snake oil!"

"Haha, young ones these days, so passionate," the man mused, still amused. "Well, take my advice or leave it. Me? I'm off to my new villa to enjoy my retirement. Tata!"

The carriage rolled away, leaving Haru fuming. He chucked the fancy bottle after it, missing by a mile.

"Damn bastard," he growled, "calling my stuff fake..."

Just as Haru's frustration reached its peak, a voice piped up from behind him. "Excuse me, mister... does your cure really work?"

He spun around, excitement bubbling up. "Of course it works! I made it myself, and it—"

His words caught in his throat as he saw the source of the voice. A young boy, no older than six or seven, stood before him. The telltale signs of the Cranch plague were etched onto his frail body—severe purple rashes and sores covered his skin, taking hold of more than 70% of his body. The boy was painfully thin, his eyes slightly sunken in.

Haru furrowed his brown. He knelt down to get a closer look.

> World Knowledge Lv2

> Name: Oliva Shu

>

> Race: Human

>

> Gender: male

>

> Occupation: None

>

> Current Status: Critically Ill (afflicted with disease)

>

> Age: 7

The boy's small hand extended towards Haru, offering a meager sum of three copper Kladi. His voice was barely a whisper, "Is this enough?"

Haru's gaze softened. He understood why his initial attempts to attract customers had failed. The villagers had been burned before, their hopes dashed by countless charlatans peddling false promises and useless concoctions, all for a quick buck. Desperation made fools of them all.

The memories flooded back, vivid and haunting. Haru could recall the devastation that had gripped the Kingdom of Cranch during his previous life. The plague, born from their poisoned water source, had swept through the land like a merciless storm. The images of the afflicted, their bodies ravaged by disease and malnourished to the point of being just bones, would be forever etched into his mind.

Looking at the young boy before him, Haru felt a pang of sorrow. This was just the beginning. The plague would get progressively worse in time. Coming here wasn't just to satisfy his need for money, but to alleviate the problem as well. The Kingdom of Cranch was an important tool to help him achieve his dreams in the future. He was going to kill two birds with one stone.

Three kladi was what Haru was willing to sell the cure at and he would still be selling at a lost, but three copper kladi wouldn't even cover the cost of the bottle. Perhaps the child didn't know the difference, or perhaps desperation had driven him to try. Whatever the case, Haru accepted the meager offering without hesitation.

"That's just enough," Haru said with a gentle smile, placing a bottle into the boy's outstretched hand.

The boy's face lit up. "Thank you, mister! I hope Momma gets better now."

Haru's smile faltered. "This isn't for you?"

The boy shook his head, his eyes downcast. "Momma's been in bed for three days. She hasn't opened her eyes, and her skin is all purple. I-I..." Tears welled up in his eyes. "I want to see Momma smile again... Mister, will she be okay if I give her this?"

Haru rested a comforting hand on the boy's head. "She'll be okay," he promised, offering a reassuring smile.

The boy wiped his tears and thanked Haru, but Haru wasn't finished. "Hold on, actually. I'm currently running a special promotion. Every purchase of my miracle cure also includes a free stick of wolf meat! Since you're my first customer, you also get a second bottle absolutely free!"

The boy's eyes widened as Haru piled the items into his arms. "Are you really giving all of these to me?" he asked hesitantly.

Haru nodded. "But I'm afraid you might be too weak to carry them all. How about you drink one first? That way, you can show your mother how effective the cure is."

The boy didn't hesitate for a second. He trusted Haru completely.

Under Haru’s watchful eye, the boy uncorked a bottle and drank its contents. The effect was instantaneous. The sores on his skin began to fade, retreating like shadows before the sun. Within moments, his skin was clear, the blemishes vanishing without a trace.

"Waaaaaa..." The boy stared at his arms and legs in amazement. "Mister, your potion is incredible!"

Haru smiled warmly. "How do you feel?"

"Amazing! Mister, you're like a Hero! I need to get this to mommy right away!"

The boy, energized by newfound hope and perhaps the potion's effects, dashed off towards his home. Haru watched him go, a sense of pride swelling in his chest.

Suddenly, a man emerged, having seen everything that had taken place as he was making his way home. His skin was marred by the telltale purple spots of the Cranch plague. He had witnessed the boy's miraculous recovery and wasted no time slamming three copper Kladi onto Haru's makeshift table.

"Give me one too," the man demanded, his voice raspy.

"No, wai-"

Haru stopped himself from continuing his words. He had only accepted the kid's price because he felt bad. His original price of three Kladi. At three copper Kladi, they would basically be robbing him. He needed to charge more, but then again, attracting more customers was crucial at the moment.

He handed over a bottle, a new strategy forming in his mind. "Don't forget to tell people where you got this," he said with a sly smile.

These words would immediately be his regret.

"Also, don't forget to mention the price from now on will be three Klad—"

The man wasn't even listening as he downed the contents.