"I'll be staying indefinitely, thank you," Lim Miao answered to Asher's question about how many days she'd be staying.
"That works," he said, preparing the big book. "Pay per day for the room at ten, including the food and all facilities. Tell me beforehand before you check out the next day."
"I'll abide by the policies," she answered unhurriedly. Like the laws of heaven and earth bowed to the inn's fine print.
Meanwhile, people around them were dead quiet.
The local mafia leader eating his breakfast didn't dare to continue slurping his milk. Just held it there, mustache trembling. The hitman across the room didn't even set his fork down for fear that the clink of cheap metal might drown out the gentle conversation happening up at the counter.
Because, seriously. Why would Lim Miao be in Asher Fourstorms' inn?
Alright, no. Why would Princess Lim Miao be in Illue at all?
They could all search each other's asses and still wouldn't shit out a single decent answer.
"What is a beautiful princess like you doing in my humble inn?" Asher asked casually, fetching one of the keys, twirling it in his hand like he wasn't hosting what could be a diplomatic disaster wrapped in silk.
Blunt.
Fucking Fourstorms. Of course he'd ask straight to the point.
But thank the devils he did, because the answer, any answer, even a cryptic metaphysical riddle, might give everyone in the room a clue before their nerves snapped and they shot each other out of sheer anxiety.
"I'm looking for something, Inn Master. Perhaps you'd know?" she asked, voice light, like she wasn't dragging the whole Lawless Zone into a side quest from hell.
"We don't sell information here, missy."
"Ang Elixir. I need it very much."
There we go.
Did you know how many ears perked up in that breakfast hall that morning after that came out of her mouth?
Even the kitchen porter had his poor little jaw slack.
Breaking news. A napalm bomb had just been dropped in the middle of Illue.
One that successfully made Asher 'Grey Kat' Fourstorms raise his eyebrows, which, for a man with a face carved out of sheer disinterest, was practically a declaration of war.
Lim Miao said it with her normal, amicable voice, not caring if everyone heard. Not even blinking. "I'll buy only from Inn Master if you happen to have one. Thrice the market price."
That's one billion solen.
Billion. With a 'B'. The kind of money that made grown assassins choke on their eggs.
So, what is Ang Elixir?
It was a miracle drug. A crazy miracle one. The type of thing that if it ever dropped on eBuy, the server would crash, the dark web would weep, and at least five kingdoms would fall over the bidding war.
Lim Miao wanted it? Well, yes, she might be one of those terrifyingly rare people who could casually say she wanted an Ang Elixir. Casual, like she was ordering an oat milk latte.
Why not? She was Lim Songbai's daughter, after all. Born with a silver sword in one hand and a presidential-level clearance in the other.
The thing was, this Ang Elixir had only been produced two doses per year, starting ten years ago, ever since its mystical little debut. That made a grand total of twenty doses ever produced.
Twenty. As in, you could line them all up on a shelf, and they'd still leave space for a decorative cactus.
One of those babies could heal all illnesses. Plus, hear me out, launch someone into enlightenment so hard they'd high-five their ancestors in another dimension. Although, fair warning, if you drank it once, it wouldn't work a second time.
Still—crazy miracle.
And not just that, the buyer was chosen by the creator, a miracle alchemist, through a magic contract. One that magical-legally prevented it from being resold at more than three times its market price. With the clause inherited by the next owner.
You couldn't even loophole your way out of it unless you were a demon lawyer with divine backing, okay?
Alright, next bombshell, the miracle alchemist only sold to the underworld.
Why?
Because… taxes.
So only underworld people could get it firsthand. Or some filthy-rich surface dweller with...access. The shady kind of access.
To be fair, it could be resold or gifted to anyone, anytime, because it had an infinite shelf life. Like, literally eternal. That stuff could outlive civilizations. And it had been resold and gifted (or stolen) for half the time.
As of now, though, only five out of the twenty ever made were left.
The rest were drunk. Consumed. Gone down the hatch and left a trail of enlightened maniacs who now sat comfortably at the top of the world like smug demigods.
These five, though… their whereabouts were unknown.
But come on. We know those were most likely hoarded by those who'd either already drunk one or those who didn't need it. Like, people who already reached enlightenment anyway and just liked watching the rest of the world scramble?
Anyone who had it in their hands and hadn't drunk it yet, let's be honest, wasn't going to hide it in a drawer and forget about it. That temptation would've made saints twitchy.
Which made everything kinda sus.
Lim Miao, not to mention her father, Lim Songbai, the number two strongest ranker in the world and also, just casually, the Guild Leader, didn't need it and didn't seek it. Extra enlightenment? All-cure elixir? Nah. Pass. They were already terrifying enough without sipping some ancient forbidden juice.
Yes, people of the so-called surface world had almost zero chance of obtaining it unless they bought the overpriced resold version, but a few lucky souls had still managed. And they didn't just get strong, they became nightmares.
Case in point, today's number one ranker. A terminally ill heir from a prestigious clan, granted the elixir as a last-ditch miracle. He lived, leveled, and basically broke the leaderboard.
But the kind of people like Lim Miao or her father? Nah.
"That wording of a request... is kinda unfair, no?" Asher said with a little smile.