Melmel looked at me with surprise as if she was wondering why I’d even asked such an obvious question.
I said to her, “I ask because I don’t have my own workshop. I’m just a meister who pretty much only makes potions for myself, so I don’t know much about what it’s like to manage a workshop in Freida.”
“Oh...yes,” she said. “We, small-scale workshops, have been pressured by the major ones. Not only do they expand their sales channels through sheer order volume, but they also sell poor-quality potions and directly interfere with other workshops and stores. Many workshops have been forced to close down in the past few years.”
“Ah. Thought something like that might be happening,” I said.
So the big businesses were trying to crush the smaller ones to monopolize the market. The guys from earlier were prime examples.
Most governments in this world were monarchies, and their laws weren’t advanced enough to punish those types of people. Even in modern-day Japan, there had been plenty of examples where businesses had sabotaged their competition through messed-up means and gotten off scot-free. Because of that, it wasn’t surprising that unethical practices were running rampant here. Though I still didn’t see how limiting my honey potion recipe to a small-scale workshop was related to all of this.
“By the way, what sort of potion are you presenting today?” I asked.
“Oh, I’ll be presenting a healing potion I modified. It’s a whopping thirty percent more effective than a standard one. I’m pretty proud of it!”
“You used the standard base ingredients for it?”
“The ratios are different, but all of the ingredients can be obtained quite easily,” she said.
“Wow.”
Boosting the effectiveness by almost a third with just the standard ingredients and easy-to-obtain items sounded pretty amazing. Melmel brewed high-quality potions meticulously, and I had a feeling she was more deserving of a special-grade meister card than I was.
Maybe I should be rubbing my hands together and be humble and respectful.
“Heh heh heh. Lookin’ forward to workin’ with ya, boss,” I said.
“O-Okay? Why are you acting like that?” she asked, confused.
“Oh, uh...it’s nothing. Just forget about it.”
I should avoid these jokes with earnest people like her.
“I just recently began making enough money to start working on research I’ve been wanting to do for a long time,” said Melmel. Overcome with emotion, tears began welling up in her eyes.
The gold potion sales seemed to have given her enough financial freedom to work on her research. It became harder for me to tell her I was the creator of the gold potions because it’d make it seem like I was fishing for gratitude. I decided to keep this fact to myself, though I was sure we’d be working together for quite some time.
I’d scared the guy with the nasty face unconscious and beaten the snot out of his thugs in front of the main entrance. Since I hadn’t gotten hurt, messed up my clothes, thrown up, or wet my pants in the process, Melmel and I entered the venue to attend the exhibit.
The giant Colosseum-like structure was split between an open-air main stage and a circular indoor area around it. Excluding the old city of Kaoloon, the venue boasted the greatest lot size in all of Freida after the Divers Guild. Its design was pretty much the same as the Colosseum from my world; maybe they were similar in form because they’d both been made by humans. One of the main differences between the two was that the outer ring for the one here was particularly wide, with many rooms built throughout. This structure had been constructed with Do-Meltan mortar and concrete. I wasn’t sure if it was reinforced with rebar, but it looked very sturdy. And although it’d been built long ago, there weren’t any visible diagonal or X-shaped cracks on it like the ones you’d find on the outer walls of old apartments in Japan.
Though, there was one thing I hadn’t expected about this place: it was full of spectators. Lots of them. Tons of them.
The entrance led to the outer ring where there were many rooms, including several food stalls. It was almost like there was a little festival going on, and the place was brimming with people everywhere I looked. As I strained my ears, I heard people talking about what potions were going to be presented and who they were rooting for, and I surmised that the presentations would be done in front of an audience. This was going to be nothing like the small gathering with just the event officials and participants that I’d pictured based on what Ashley had told me—at all. She’d lied to me. This was unforgivable.
The venue was going to be fully packed, and the event would be held in front of a giant audience. If I were to go up there to present, I’d draw a lot of attention, which meant everyone would find out I was a potion-meister—well, maybe that wasn’t necessarily true. Freida was full of Divers, so maybe I wouldn’t stand out all that much after all. It’d be one thing if I showed off some special potion with groundbreaking effects, but I was just presenting a honey-flavored potion. Even if people did find out I was a meister, I was pretty reserved with my dives, so no one would even recognize me. My rank was in the thirty thousands too. I was probably overthinking this, though it’d be a different story if a Diver who’d seen me before was here today. But even if someone tried to invite me to their team because of today’s events, I could just tell them I’d already planned to join Miguel’s. I decided to get Miguel’s permission later to use him as an excuse that way. I mean, I should be allowed that much.
I did have one more concern: would I get scolded for presenting a throwaway potion at such a grand exhibit? I was pretty worried, to be honest. They were really going all out for this event, and I was about to present something I’d picked out on a whim. I was probably gonna get in trouble. This was bad. But I didn’t even have the guts to run away since I’d probably get in even more trouble. And so, instead of taking action, I decided to just empty my head and see what happened. I probably needed to fix this part about me, or I’d likely have trouble adjusting to society as an adult.
I was fully aware of how awkward my movements were as I followed Melmel to the reception area. We completed our paperwork, then received number tags. Apparently, the presentation order had already been set beforehand.
Melmel turned to me and said spiritedly, “Let’s do our best out there!”
She, along with everyone else, was putting her all into this event. I wanted to apologize for showing up when I wasn’t serious about it at all, but she exhaled out of her nose and met my eyes to give me another encouraging look.
I tried to remain as calm as possible as I said, “Y-Yeah, I’ll try. My heart’s pounding and my blood pressure is through the roof though.”
“You’re going to do great,” she said. “You’re an incredible mage, after all.”
“Well, I don’t think being able to use magic necessarily means I’m good at researching potions,” I said.
“I...suppose not. What kind of potion are you presenting, by the way?”
There it was. Did she really have to ask? Now, of all times? She was going to be shocked and severely disappointed. I mean, it was just honey. She’d just seen me being totally awesome earlier, and I was about to completely ruin her image of me. I didn’t want to tell her, but I’d asked her the same question earlier, and she was gonna find out during the presentation anyway.
I braced myself, considering it a rehearsal of sorts.
“My potion...” I said.
“Yes?” she asked.
“It’s...”
“Kudo...?”
Oh, screw it!
“It’s, uh, honey,” I said.
“Honey?”
“Yeah. A honey-flavored potion...”
Melmel fell silent.
“Um...Melmel?” I said.
I knew she’d be disappointed. Her brows were furrowed with a puzzled expression on her face. The silence was deafening.
Why did I have to choose the stupid honey potion? If only I hadn’t taken the exhibit so lightly.
As I was wallowing in regret, Melmel suddenly asked, “Would you mind sharing some?”
“Huh? Oh, sure.”
I pulled out a flask containing the honey potion, poured some of its contents into a small measuring cup, then handed it to her.
“It’s not a glass container?” she asked.
“Nope, it’s plastic,” I answered.
“Plas...tic?”