I Refused To Be Reincarnated
Chapter 590: A Run on Pills

Chapter 590: A Run on Pills

The same scene happened with the group of boys—except for the oldest.

Since he had consumed the pills refined with poisonous herbs, he bathed in a pool of dark sweat. When the scalding pain subsided, he felt his Qi rise like a tide through his relaxed meridians to nourish his throbbing muscles. And his dan tian... He rose and stumbled to the bathroom.

"Two pills... I actually broke through!" His pupils constricted as he brought his hand to his warm abdomen.

He wiped himself down quickly and rushed out. "I must tell my friends before that junior disciple runs out of pills. I can’t let rival disciples get them!"

Eager to boast about his new realm, he bolted to the bustling noodle shop where he usually had lunch with his friends.

Unaware of the girl’s and boys’ quick promotion, Adam shared a well-deserved lunch with Misha in a fancy restaurant after this morning’s fruitful sales.

So, when he saw dozens of youths gathered in front of his shop after returning, he exchanged a confused glance with Misha, who looked just as lost as he was. Did the quality of his pills already reach so many ears?

The idea made him chuckle as he tried to enter his shop, only for an older disciple to grab the back of his robe and glare at him.

"Such ill manners for a junior." He snorted and pulled him back. "Wait in line like everyone if you want a pill!"

Adam rolled his eyes, snickering at the disciple’s reddening face. "How are you so heavy? Who are you? How do you know what I’ll ask in advance?"

The disciple asked those questions before his eyes widened in horror as Adam continued.

"You can either let me pass or wait until tomorrow, senior. I mean... Are you a fool? I’m the shop owner!"

Drawn by the ridicule in Adam’s voice, the boy who had recommended the shop dashed to his friend.

SLAP

Without warning, he slapped him across the face. Blood trickled down his friend’s lips, and his head jerked back as he berated.

"I didn’t bring you here to make me lose face! Apologise to our junior." He approached his ears, his voice lowering to a whisper. "I’ll kill you if he bans us from the shop. You hear me?"

Meanwhile, Adam scratched his cheek beside the laughing Misha as the ashen-faced disciple cupped his fists and bowed.

"Sorry, junior. My eyes failed me, and I committed a grave offence. Please forgive me."

’No. You just thought I was cutting the line...’ Adam muffled the laugh that scratched at his throat as he observed the youth’s trembling shoulders and the sweat dripping down his creased brows.

"Forget about it, senior." He patted the youth’s shoulder, feeling him relax under his palm.

Then, he turned to the crowd and waved his hand, eager to earn more sect points. "Let me through. I have pills for everyone, no matter how many you want. So, don’t worry about the queue! Welcome to my Golden Dragon’s Pearl!"

As the crowd parted like a receding tide, Adam glimpsed back and chuckled at the other disciples watching the scene with interest.

’Should I thank him for attracting more people?’ He wondered as he entered the shop and took his place behind the counter.

His eyes sparkled for the next hours as he sold one pill after another. Even better. The disciples’ delighted expressions after leaving seemed to draw in more passersby. The queue soon extended to the street, which attracted even more attention. Furthermore, the pills made of poison he had been worried about sold like treasures thanks to the oldest disciple’s advertisement.

He grinned until he noticed the oldest disciple give him a shy glance.

Intrigued and quite grateful, he left Misha to handle the sales and walked to him.

"Would you like another pill?" He cupped his fist. "It’s on the house, of course."

The disciple shook his head and leaned closer, his voice barely a whisper.

"I’m looking for a blade of the third tier, junior. But the prices..." He gulped. "It doesn’t feel right to pay two thousand-five hundred points for a mass-produced weapon. So, I thought about you."

He gestured for the youth to continue, feeling his expectant gaze.

"We know you don’t refine those pills; honestly, we don’t mind it, but your master must be one of the best alchemists in the sect. You could perhaps slide a good note and ask him if he could recommend me an excellent smith."

"Mhh. Excellency comes at a price, you know?"

He shook his head, playing along with the imaginary master since that’s what he had wanted in the first place. Still, he carefully masked his shock. Two thousand five hundred points. What a crazy price for this level of craftsmanship. How could some people even buy them? The question seriously reverberated in his mind as he continued.

"We know of one, but he only forges sun-grade weapons."

"Sun grade?!" The man leapt up before noticing the others’ confused gaze. He lowered his head and cupped his palm to muffle his voice to the maximum.

"So your master knows the sect leader or the association president?"

Adam frowned before his pupils constricted. He rapidly scratched the back of his head and laughed nervously.

"Hahaha. I was just kidding. I know a good smith, but he can only craft star-grade weapons."

Even the disciple sighed. Those two were beyond the reach of almost everyone. Just imagining Adam asking one of them to craft a weapon for a nobody like him made him sweat.

With a recovering breath, he nodded, his tone shifting to a more businesslike one.

"Alright, little brother. Star-grade weapons are also no jokes. I’ll save money for the next six months, then ask you again. Just out of curiosity, do you know his price range?"

Adam clicked his tongue and exhaled in frustration. He had no desire to craft weapons, especially not star-grade ones—the equivalent of epic in the magic world.

’I should have shut my mouth and refused.’ His eyes narrowed as he multiplied the price by five. Surely, no one would buy a tier-three weapon for this outrageous price, right?

"Ten thousand or more!"

However, the disciple grinned as if the price was normal or even cheap. Well, in his opinion, it was. After all, he would keep this blade for years, if not decades. What were a few thousand points if he had the best tool to ensure his survival during missions?

"Alright. Can we fix the price at eight thousand if I bring the ores and other materials?"

’Can’t you read the mood? Leave me alone, you leech!’