A Villainess pulled out the Sword instead of the Hero.

“Well, that location is expensive, and the market is ambiguous. I’m sure they’ll take it if you throw a few bucks at them.” 

The man rubbed his chin in concern.

 “This is not the kind of neighborhood where you get your money’s worth. It’s unremarkable and hard to find.” 

Money was no problem, as she’d recently made a fortune from Count Equator.

 

Specialty was something she could create from now on.

 

Morgana slipped the sack of gold coins she’d brought with her from the manor and handed it over.

 

She gestured to the corner of a crumpled piece of paper.

 “Here, the two-story building on the corner of the street leading to the square.” 

Why bother paying for it?

 

Why bother building on something that belongs to the original creator? Morgana was adamant.

 “I need it quickly.” 

Raon nodded nervously and started to leave the tavern, but he stopped her.

 “Miss, can’t I see the shop myself?” 

Morgana shook her head resolutely.

 “I’ll take a look later tonight, but I have guests to greet tonight.”  

Late afternoon. Kellive set down his teacup using his left hand and asked.

 “When did you learn to speak the language?” “Oh, did you see?” 

Morgana replied, lining up the jars of herbs and making notes on each one.

 “I just learned it when I was a kid.” 

Or, more accurately, in a previous life. I never expected to see Hangeul used like this.

 

In this world, Korean characters are written in an ancient language.

 

This was something I didn’t realize until recently.

 

In the original story, Percival would occasionally write words in the now-obsolete ancient language.

 

It was now a lost language, and no one but a few of the old nobility spoke it in everyday life, but Percival was used to it.

 

Perhaps Percival had learned it from his mother, since he lived in the mountains in a cottage.

 

By using the language, he was showing his mother that he was capable of this.

 

After all, it’s easier to be comfortable with someone familiar than someone who speaks a strange language.

 

Morgana gestured to the tea.

 “How about this one? I think I’ll save it for the VIPs.” “It’s just sweet enough that the young ladies will enjoy it, but how about something a little more refreshing?” “Oh, I’m going to sell this as a hangover cure. It’s so potent, it will sell well as is.” 

Morgana swiped her arm across the table to separate some bottles.

 

I asked him to try several teas and let me know what he thought.

 

On his twenty-first cup of tea, Kellive looked at the empty bottles and asked.

 “What if the kid never comes?” “He’ll come, he must.” 

As expected, Percival returned to the manor late in the afternoon, carrying a large sack.

 “I’ve come by letter to present my son for your employment.” 

With his mother, as well.

 

The woman’s face, though still gaunt and pallid, was strangely spirited.

 

She was the polar opposite of Percival, who watched the whole thing with wide-eyed anticipation.

 

She scanned Morgana and Kellive across the parlor, her eyes alert and wary.

 “Would you like some tea?” 

Morgana gestured to the teacup in front of them.

 

It was made with the intent of selling, but she hadn’t taken a single sip.

 “I noticed you mentioned something about old language in your letter.” “Yes. I heard you had spent so much time in the mountains, I thought you might be more familiar with it.” “Are you a noble, or have you spent time in the temple?” “No! I’ve never set foot in a temple, never even visited one!” 

There were no titles in Britain, and she wasn’t wrong about the temple.

 

The lady’s fierce eyes didn’t even flinch at my quick answer.

 

If anything, she was more insistent, making it feel like a job interview.

 “You wish to teach herbalism. Do you have the knowledge to do so?” “The tea in front of you is one of the herbs I’ll be selling. I’m thinking of selling it in tea form, to make it more accessible.” 

Percival, who had been swinging his legs on the couch, stiffened and grabbed the hem of his mother’s skirt.

 

Apparently, he had come down the mountain reluctantly.

 

It was just like the first time Percival had been wary at the sight of bread.

 

Morgana turned to face her and smiled brightly.

 “The sack you brought smells like Rhytanoa leaves. It grows in abundance in the northeast, which must be quite a distance from where you live.” “…” “It’s a mixture of flavors, but it also contains Calla Lily flowers, whose roots have a sedative effect but can cause you to pass out if you take too much.” 

The lady’s eyes widened in surprise.

 

Perhaps she had brought the Calla Lily with the plan that if she didn’t believe her, she would feed it to them in the tea and then escape.

 

Morgana slid the list of teas she’d written down across the table.

 “The building is a corner lot just around the corner from the main street, and we’re done with the lease. The first floor will be for herbs only.” 

Tapping her fingers lightly on the list she held out, she grinned somewhat wickedly.

 “The second floor will be sold by invitation only to those who reach a certain purchase amount.” 

Aka the VIP invite list.

 

The idea was that anyone could come and buy from the first floor.

 

Not too expensive, not too cheap. That way, it would be accessible to people without money.

 

In fact, when we considered the cost of labor and running the store, there was no money to spare.

 

Although I’d probably include some items that would make a small profit, like hangover cures.

 

The real moneymaker comes from the second floor. VIP invitation.

 

Unlike the first floor, which has a more everyday element, the second floor serves the bourgeoisie and aristocracy.

 

In other words, only those with money could visit.

 

They would be looking for priests rather than herbs anyway, so no matter how much goodness was promoted, they wouldn’t be interested.

 

So the emphasis here was on luxury.

 

From the entrance, it was a completely separate space.

 

Once a month, special VIP-invitation-only teas and other coveted items for those who had no place to spend but wanted to splurge would be unveiled.

 

Basically, everything sold at VIP Invite was a limited edition.

 

And the rarest and most valuable items are randomly selected to help boost sales.

 

‘There’s nothing like a bit of spice.’ 

 

It’s a nefarious trick that involves randomly inserting a rare item into a slot and drawing until it comes out.

 

‘At least I’m not cheating the odds?’

 

As she flipped through the list, the woman’s gaze gradually relaxed.

 

Her suspicions were gradually dissipating as she saw the clear instructions for sale and the address of the shop.

 

It was not an unreasonable concern, given that so many people sought out poisonous herbs in the guise of herbs.

 

The woman closed her eyes for a moment.

 

When she opened them again, her eyes were more concerned than wary.

 “The herbs you sent saved my life. I am indebted to you.” 

She stroked Percival’s head slowly as he sat beside her, sipping milk from a teacup held tightly in both hands.

 “Actually, I was forced to learn herbs to make a living, and I didn’t teach Percy.” “Oh…? Then the herbs you knew were…” 

Clearly, he could recognize herbs.

 

She smiled ruefully, as if anticipating Morgana’s reaction.

 “I guess he learned them on his own while living in the mountains.” 

Great. I’ve hit the jackpot!

 

After all, they don’t call him a genius for nothing. 

 

He was a genius who was just waiting to be discovered.

 

And his mother seemed to understand. She, too, was just trying to make a living, but she didn’t seem to know much about herbs.

 

The woman nodded and said,

“Percy, fetch it.” “Yes, Mama.” 

Percy hobbled over and dropped a sack his size in front of her.

 

The woman spoke dryly,

“I’ll have Percy send for the herbs, as I’d feel safer knowing what’s in them.” 

What kind of pot of gold are these?

 

Since I was going into the royal palace, I wondered if I should be able to take Percival alone.

 

Morgana would have no reason to refuse, as long as he did it himself.

 

Of course, his mother might have thought it was a good way to keep an eye on him.

 

Morgana deliberately suppressed her joy in case she changed her mind, and replied most politely and consistently as possible.

 “Very well, then, shall we draw up a contract?”