Who Says I’m Not a Legitimate Adventurer?

“Quite enlightening…”

The matter of attribute improvement had already been settled—he just needed to grind.

As for skills.

Lance reexamined the advancement requirements for [Pale Sentinel].

Weapon skills and combat techniques were manageable. As long as he was willing to invest time grinding, or spend money to hire an instructor, he could eventually raise them.

Only that Breathing Technique remained.

This belonged to the category of secret transmissions—there were no mass-market versions available at all.

However, Lance wasn’t too worried.

He clearly remembered that back at the Adventurers’ Guild’s merit exchange list, he had caught a glimpse of such skills.

Although the required merit points were not low, during this joint extermination mission, he had genuinely saved lives and assisted the vanguard team in clearing Goblins.Since that powerful man named Gale Chaser Gareth had promised to report truthfully, there should be a sum of merit points awarded. At that time, he might be able to exchange for it.

After running through his class planning in his mind and confirming there were no omissions—

He still felt like he had forgotten something today.

“What was it…”

As Lance muttered, an image suddenly surfaced in his mind—a girl with braided hair and round glasses.

“Damn it!”

Lance slapped his thigh with a sharp smack.

After returning, his mind had been completely overwhelmed by the Legacy Class [Pale Sentinel]. He had been obsessing over how to meet those outrageous advancement requirements and had completely forgotten about making money.

He hadn’t yet asked Flora about the results regarding the Hemostatic Ointment.

That was directly tied to his wallet.

He instinctively turned his head to look out the window.

By now, the streets outside were already pitch black, with only the faint glow of lanterns carried by distant patrols.

At this hour, Flora had likely already gone to sleep.

“Looks like I’ll have to go first thing tomorrow.”

Lance rubbed his brow in mild frustration.

But for now, he could at least calculate his potential earnings.

On the way back earlier, while riding in the carriage transporting the wounded, he hadn’t been idle. He specifically struck up conversations with the accompanying guild physician and several lightly injured Adventurers.

The data he gathered was astonishing.

Just for today alone, the combat intensity of the vanguard team had been terrifyingly high.

From just a few squads, the consumption of hemostatic medicines had already exceeded one hundred standard units.

And that was merely the appetizer.

Once the next two waves of main forces pushed in, with hundreds of Adventurers grinding against monsters in the forest—

The consumption of hemostatic medicine would reach an absolutely terrifying astronomical figure.

“The market is huge. There’s no way to fill it.”

Lance bit the end of his pen, rapidly calculating on paper.

He didn’t need to worry about whether his production could meet demand. Even if he worked himself to death in front of the cauldron, he wouldn’t be able to fill such a massive gap.

All he needed to do was force his way in and seize his own slice of the pie.

Lance began calculating his production limits.

During last night’s crafting, he had repeatedly tested that the system’s [Research Bonus] was extremely rigid.

Only if he personally completed the entire continuous process—from raw material processing to final brewing—would the ointment gain that special effect bonus.

This completely eliminated the possibility of running multiple cauldrons simultaneously in an assembly-line setup.

“Single batch production time: 35 minutes…”

Lance wrote down the number, paused, then crossed it out and changed it to 40 minutes.

He needed to leave room for error.

With his small cauldron capacity, each batch could produce about 8 standard jars of ointment.

If he pushed himself to the limit—doing nothing but eating, sleeping, and brewing for twelve hours straight—

In 12 hours, he could complete about 18 batches.

Multiplying—

“144 jars.”

Looking at the number, Lance nodded in satisfaction.

This was his current maximum daily production capacity.

Next came cost control.

Since the effectiveness of his ointment mainly came from the system’s rule-based enhancement rather than expensive raw materials—

He could cut corners in material selection.

For example, he could use cheaper biological fats instead of expensive alchemical oils as the base, and reduce the amount of auxiliary herbs.

As long as the core ingredient, Coagulation Moss, was used sufficiently, the final product’s effect would still outperform ordinary market goods.

After careful calculations, Lance managed to compress the cost per jar down to about 7.5 copper coins.

Based on his earlier estimate, pricing this enhanced ointment at 25 copper coins would absolutely be a fair deal.

Each jar sold would yield a net profit of 17.5 copper coins.

Lance’s feather pen moved rapidly across the paper, finally arriving at a total.

“2520 copper coins…”

Looking at the number, his breathing grew heavier.

Converted into silver coins, that was a full 25 coins!

A net profit of 25 silver coins per day!

Back when he worked as a miserable Scribe, slogging away for an entire month, he only earned 16 silver coins.

Now, in just one day, he could make one and a half months’ worth of salary.

Was this the allure of war profits?

And this calculation could be extended even further.

Even after this joint extermination mission ended, as long as his ointment built a reputation—

Even if future daily sales dropped to only one-third of wartime levels through apothecary channels—

He would only need to spend four hours a day brewing.

That would still bring in a stable income of 6 silver coins per day.

Over a month, that would be 180 silver coins—close to 2 gold coins!

And this was money earned steadily, without risking his life in the Underground Dungeon Labyrinth, without facing Goblins or Gnolls.

“Ridiculously profitable…”

Lance stared at the golden future on the paper, his eyes practically glowing.

There were still at least five days before the joint extermination mission ended.

These five days were a golden period for picking up money.

He almost wanted to rush out immediately and drag Flora out of bed to discuss cooperation.

Lance blew out the oil lamp and lay on his bed.

In the darkness, the corners of his mouth kept rising uncontrollably.

Legacy Class, Ostera, demi-human beauties—they all seemed to be beckoning to him.

Tomorrow morning.

He absolutely had to go find Flora!

What Lance didn’t notice was that the old him would never have forgotten something as important as making money.

But today, having opened the door to a new world through his talent, perhaps his life would begin to change as well.

……

At this moment, on the third floor of the Graystone Town Adventurers’ Guild, the spacious guild master’s office was still brightly lit.

The room spanned roughly eighty square meters, decorated in a rather rugged style, without much in the way of luxurious ornamentation.

At the very center stood a massive solid-wood sand table map, displaying a detailed terrain map of Copper Creek Forest.

At this moment, the map was filled with densely packed small flags.

Red flags represented monster movements, while blue flags marked the positions of Adventurer Parties.