Chapter 17: Three-year-olds earn money.

I must’ve been more exhausted from yesterday’s fight than I thought.
I slept soundly until breakfast, woken by Tarte’s slaps.

Last night, too tired to arrange a spot for Silhime, Tarte insisted, “If we snuggle close, we can sleep together!”
So, the three of us shared a bed.
But Tarte claimed the middle, thwarting my chance to cuddle with Silhime.
Exhausted, I succumbed to Tarte’s hot water bottle spirit magic and passed out before enjoying the moment.
A lifelong regret…

After breakfast, I bring Illegal Pitch to Red Rose Dorm.
Koketris aren’t great for heavy carts, but Hernest’s load is light enough.
I haul eight bottles of magic potion, slightly over a liter each, from my room’s storage to the cart.
The bottles are heavy—I can only carry two at a time—but Silhime, surprisingly strong, carries a whole beer-crate-like box of them effortlessly.

“Silkies handle house repairs and gardening, so they’re as strong as dwarves,” Tarte says.

I picture a burly dwarf miner.
Maid spirits are incredible…

We load Hernest’s eight bottles and head to Red Lily Dorm for Mujihidane and Kussera’s potions.
Tarte rides Illegal Pitch, while Silhime stays to finish cleaning.

At Red Lily Dorm, Mujihidane and Kussera, in academy uniforms, wait at the entrance.
Mujihidane’s legs, extending from her knee-length skirt, are wrapped in black tights—or so they seem.
I’m not fooled—those are simplified undergarments, her usual attire, ready to execute sinners.

“I invited Dokurobaru, but her potions aren’t stable yet. She’s making different ones,” Mujihidane says.

Too bad Dokurobaru can’t come…

Freshly made potions need time for their magic to settle before they’re market-ready.
Our beginner recovery potions, taught in first-year classes, stabilize in 5–7 days.
Dokurobaru’s making intermediate regeneration potions, needing nearly 10 days.
Aiming to become a healer, she learned potion-making from her baron grandfather before enrolling.
She’s the top in healing and potions, surpassing even Zoldietta.
Intermediate potions aren’t hugely profitable but can support a household.
Poor as I am, I’m jealous, but I lack her discerning eye for materials and skill with equipment.

We load Mujihidane and Kussera’s potions—eight each.
Equipment limits us to the same batch size.
Hernest makes stamina potions; the rest of us make magic recovery potions.
Stamina potions, like energy drinks for fatigue and nutrition, require less magic but fetch lower prices.
Regeneration potions, which aid injury recovery, are distinct.

“Even you, Ukatsu-kun, can make magic recovery potions. Why stamina?” Kussera asks.
“They use too much magic, affecting my training the next day… and stop calling me that,” Hernest says.
“Nope! Calling you Hern-kun would anger the duke…”

Kussera loves weird nicknames—deal with it.
When she enrolled, she was somber, having lost her left arm to a beast.
Last fall, she revealed her true self: brown hair tied in a side ponytail to avoid her golem arm, sporty knee-high socks, now an active girl.
How’d this happen?

Today, she’s swapped her tea party dress’s delicate golem arm for a sturdy metal gauntlet.
My fault—I suggested her golem arm could transform.
This one has a reinforced [Air Burst] barrel hidden in the wrist.
She’s got others, like folding branch cutters or a rock drill.
Asking if it transforms was a mistake…

“Everything secured?” Hernest asks.
“You don’t trust me?” Kussera replies.
“Alright, let’s go.”

We head to the Ronin Guild’s academy gate branch, an organization mediating jobs and payments for ronin—masterless fighters living by combat.
Partly state-funded but independently run, ronin are near-outlaws, selling violence instead of joining soldiers or guards.
No need to worry about rough ronin hassling kids like us—none are here.

The guild operates mainly in the kingdom’s west.
Arkan Kingdom lies on the continent’s east: dwarves to the north, sea to the east, another human nation south, and the monster-filled west.
Ronin work hunting monsters or gathering rare materials, so they cluster in the west.
The academy area, with few monsters, has no jobs for them.

Why a branch here?
Duke Honmani invited it so students could earn pocket money.
The guild, via the Honmani Marquis family, buys our potions.
The academy provides materials for classes, but personal research is self-funded, so poor students need this income.
Originally, the academy bought potions directly, but nobles outbid by Honmani complained about “slave-like student labor.”
Now the guild mediates, lowering buy prices due to fees.
People shouting about kids’ rights make things harder, same as my past life…

“A new shop has fresh cinnamon rolls. Let’s go after delivery!” Kussera suggests.
“Sounds nice,” Mujihidane agrees.
“Take us now!” Tarte demands.
“Nope, money first,” Kussera says.

We park Illegal Pitch by the guild branch and unload potions at the delivery entrance.
They’re appraised for quality, effect, and stability, then we get a receipt to exchange for payment at the front counter.
Quality (impurity levels) and effect (potency) are rated 1–5, higher being better, affecting price.
Stability is pass/fail—failing means no sale.
Appraisal uses test strips, quick and simple.
As expected, we all get quality 3, effect 3—standard for following class recipes.
None of us research potion improvements; Hernest and Mujihidane prefer training, Kussera focuses on golem upgrades.

“All 3-3, buyable. Sell them all?” the clerk asks.
“Wait!” Tarte interrupts.

Surprisingly, Tarte, uninterested in potions, stops us.
She beckons me, pointing to a price chart on the wall.

“What’s up?”
“Minion… you… no way—”

Despair crosses Tarte’s face.
What? Did I do something?

“You’re in a school and can’t calculate?” she accuses.
“Hey! Why’d you go there?”

Rude! My math grades are excellent—for elementary-level stuff…

“If you can calculate, you’d see diluting to quality 4, effect 2 is more profitable,” Tarte says.

She’s right: quality 3, effect 3 pays 3 small silver coins per bottle; quality 4, effect 2 pays 3 small silver coins plus 5 large copper coins.
Diluting increases volume and unit price—obviously better.
But no one at the academy would do something so dumb.

“Tarte, potions don’t dilute with water,” Kussera says.

Exactly—water doesn’t work; it’s not forbidden, just impossible.
Every student knows this, but Tarte’s attitude reminds me of when she had Shusendu’s spirit heal the hippogriff.
She knows something we don’t…

“You know how, don’t you?”
“Not bad for a fool,” she replies.

Letting Tarte try seems smart.
Success means big profits; failure’s just eight bottles lost—not catastrophic.
I borrow two empty bottles and a funnel, moving the potions near a well.
Per Tarte’s instructions, I split the potion into ten bottles, adding well water filtered once through a handkerchief.

“As expected, it separates,” I say.

The potion, a reddish liquid, sinks, with clear water on top.
Magic doesn’t directly affect objects but interferes with other magic, causing repulsion.
Objects and people resist external magic changes.
These properties prevent dilution—potion magic repels water’s trace magic, separating like salad dressing.
Potion-making mixes materials while aligning their magic into one unified force, using magic circle equipment and infused magic.
Diluting requires re-blending potion and water as new materials.

“Feel it with magic, not your eyes,” Tarte says, smiling with a finger to her lips.
My Rolling tribe sense?

“Mix well,” she says, clapping twice.

The separated liquid blends instantly, becoming a slightly paler potion.

“What…?”
“Is this spirit power?”
“No way!”

The three of us are speechless.
I tried sensing magic but felt nothing and don’t understand what she did.

“Not spirit power. It’s a technique humans can learn,” Tarte says, answering Mujihidane.

Not exclusive to spirits, it’s a magic manipulation skill I could master with practice…
Re-appraised, it’s quality 4, effect 2, stable, and buyable, as Tarte predicted.
Turning 24 small silver coins into 35 with just water…
But Tarte claims the extra bottles’ share—7 small silver coins—leaving me 28.
Hernest and the others diluted theirs too, giving Tarte the extra share.
It’s a steep cut, but seeing her technique up close is worth it.

At the counter, I take one large silver coin and 25 small ones, giving Tarte 7 small silvers.
Arkan Kingdom’s currency includes large/small gold, silver, and copper coins.
Ten small copper coins make one large copper, ten large copper make one small silver, and so on.
Above large gold, precious metal ingots are used, treated as barter, not currency.
Tarte earned 26 small silvers with just water.

“Potion research isn’t a joke…” Hernest says.
“The extra volume makes the difference. Without that technique…” Mujihidane adds.
“Meeting and contracting a kid like that? Cheating, Earl. You owe us!” Kussera teases.

I can’t argue—Kussera’s right.
Tarte’s a total cheat…