Some of the most innovative things I’d seen so far were the invention of a tool that could be used for making potions, a magic potion that could be made with lower production costs, and a hybrid potion that had the effects of both healing and mana potions. Those were the only ones that had caught my attention, and the rest were pretty much run-of-the-mill stuff that didn’t get much of a reaction. As expected, everyone put emphasis on the efficacy of recovery effects. I felt like none of them were inferior to my honey potion, and I was feeling more and more cornered with each presentation.
The crowd had gone wild during the hybrid potion reveal. Melmel’s presentation had been popular too. The judges had clearly been impressed by her potion, which was thirty percent more effective than a standard one. It was an incredible achievement.
Then came my turn—unfortunately.
My name was called, and I walked up to the presentation stage. I felt eyes on me from every direction. I could hardly breathe from the tension.
“I-I’m Kudo Akira,” I said. “This is my first time showing up to an event like this, so please don’t be too harsh on me...”
Lion-Maru smiled at me from the judge’s seat. “What’s wrong, Kudo? You’re more nervous than when we went on that adventure together.”
“Oh, no, this is nerve-racking in a different way!” I said.
“An exhibit makes you more nervous than the high-depth-level floor we went to? Impressive, Kudo. Ha ha ha!” he laughed.
“I didn’t mean it like that!”
He’d completely misinterpreted me. I really hoped he didn’t plan on taking me on a spontaneous dive to a place like that again. That’d actually be a bigger issue than this event, considering I could actually die.
Greenia looked at Lion-Maru and asked, “Do you know him?”
“Yes, a bit,” he said.
“Hmm...” said Greenia, the look in her eyes changing.
It was as if she hadn’t intended to take me seriously but had reconsidered. She was observing my every move now. It was making me even more nervous, so I wished she wouldn’t.
“Pardon me, but we’ll need to get this moving along,” said the moderator.
“Ah, forgive me,” said Lion-Maru.
I bowed appreciatively knowing this great lion had seen how nervous I was and interjected to help me relax a bit.
I then turned to the moderator, who said, “Now, please proceed with your presentation.”
The time had come. I didn’t want to do it, but there was no turning back now. I took a deep breath, then opened my mouth to speak.
“Um, what I made for today’s presentation is a h-honey potion.”
“Honey?”
“Potion?”
I could see question marks over the heads of the judges. It was the exact reaction I’d expected.
I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!
I continued mentally apologizing, then the Potion Guild’s representative looked at me with utter confusion. “Meister Kudo, what sort of effect does this ‘honey potion’ have?”
“Uh, there aren’t any special effects in particular. It’s really just a normal potion,” I answered.
“Huh?”
“I-It just tastes like honey now.”
“What about its healing effects?” he asked.
“It’s exactly the same... I’m sorry!”
The silent stares were painful. I wanted to die.
Lion-Maru and the okama manager looked like they weren’t sure what to do.
Then the Potion Guild representative, who was questioning me, suddenly slammed the desk and said, “Its flavor changed? That’s it? What kind of research is this?! Are you trying to make a mockery of this prestigious exhibit?!”
“N-No, not at all...” I muttered.
Okay, maybe I had been. I’d just picked a random potion without putting any thought into it. I’d been told it’d be fine. It wasn’t my fault. Probably, maybe, possibly.
My potion was so lame that people were looking at me with scary looks in their eyes. I didn’t know what to do. The Potion Guild representative was yelling at me nonstop, and I was starting to feel dizzy. I hadn’t felt like this ever since my level had gotten higher, but it felt like I was suffering symptoms of anemia.
I was about to reach my mental breaking point when a loud voice suddenly called out, “I’m interested in that honey-flavored potion! Very interested!”
It was Grado, the old man from the Freida Parliament.
“Huh?”
“Whaaat?”
The judges made confused noises in response to the sudden statement.
“Mr. Grado? Pardon me, but, uh, you are aware he told us all that he’s changed was its flavor?” asked the Potion Guild representative.
“Of course I’m aware! Don’t you see how incredibly important the change in flavor is?!” asked Grado.
“No, I’m afraid I don’t.”
“Preposterous!” shouted Grado heatedly. “How can you be in charge of the Potion Guild and not understand this?!”
“B-But it’s nothing but a normal potion that tastes sweeter—”
“How dare you! Do you realize how many of our brethren have died refusing to drink potions because of their bitterness?!” screamed Grado, sending his chair flying away in his fit of rage.
“Aaah!” shrieked the Potion Guild representative.
Grado wasn’t wearing any fur, but maybe he was an Adorner, given that he’d said “brethren” just now. Adorners competed with Long-Ears for the title of the most powerful race in Do-Melta, but they had the unfortunate trait of consuming an incredible amount of energy. Not only that, but they absolutely couldn’t ingest anything that was even remotely bitter. They said it was because they were influenced by their creator Ruvi the Red, who hated bitter food. I remembered this well because Scrael had taught me that when we’d run into a certain couple causing a scene at a safe point a while back.
Come to think of it, Grado was the only one who hadn’t been taste-testing the potions. Did Adorners hate bitterness that much? I couldn’t figure out why they couldn’t just bear the unpleasantness a little. Everyone else seemed to be thinking the same thing, and they all looked at him as if he was out of his mind. Then it hit me.
“Ah...” I said, realizing the honey-flavored potion was actually very meaningful. It wasn’t bitter at all, and it tasted just like honey water.
The judges seemed confused about how to react, then Greenia asked kindly, “Ah... Kudo, was it? Why did you choose to make your potion honey-flavored?”
“W-Well...”
This was bad. I couldn’t just say something like “I actually just realized its practical use, tee hee,” so I had to come up with something convincing on the spot.
“I-I thought the sweetness would make it easier to drink. And like Judge Grado mentioned earlier, I’ve run into an Adorner at a dungeon safe point who refused to drink a potion, so I thought this would be helpful for people like him,” I said.
“Fantastic! You made this out of consideration for us? Ah, such kindness!” exclaimed Grado, shedding tears as he became overwhelmed with emotion.
It really wasn’t like that. That was just something I’d come up with to get through this awkward situation. I wished he’d stop crying because I was feeling unbearably guilty. Grado could hardly contain himself, and I heard similar cries of gratitude and sobbing from the audience, likely also from Adorners.
In this world, being unable to use potions was a terribly dangerous disadvantage. Having one fewer option for healing injuries and illnesses meant being that much closer to death. It was no wonder they were so exhilarated to see a potion they could finally use. As for me, my heart was full of guilt for lying through my teeth at them.
Wait a second, could it be...?
So that was why Torpaz had said what he had. He’d known the potion would be well received, so he wanted its production to be limited to a small-scale workshop. Melmel had mentioned how small workshops were on the verge of bankruptcy beneath the pressure from the major businesses. Torpaz must’ve intended to stop workshops from closing and artisans from quitting by having smaller workshops make potions that would definitely have a demand. But that meant my job here was to make sure my potion got widespread attention and to get it on track toward tons of sales. This was a pretty huge responsibility. I couldn’t afford to chicken out now, though I was starting to feel a different kind of nervousness. It was pretty awful of a god to put such a burden on a mere student.
Suddenly, the potion shop manager flamboyantly said, “Say, why don’t we try drinking it first? I’ve never had a sweet potion myself, and this sounds pretty interesting.”
“Y-Yes, let’s try it.”