?Chapter 848:


    Like children on a treasure hunt, Jett and Ibed through the botanical wonders until, by some miracle, the herbs for making disguise potions appeared before our eager eyes.


    Our gazes locked in a moment of pure tion before we rushed to the proprietor, precious herbs clutched in hand.


    “Excuse me,” I inquired breathlessly, “what price do you ask for these?”


    The shopkeeper assessed our find with practiced indifference before drawling, “One thousand gold coins.”


    The sum struck me like a physical blow. With hearts pounding, Jett and I emptied our pursespletely, counting ourbined fortune with bated breath. By some divine providence, we discovered we possessed exactly the required amount.


    I faltered, my gaze darting between the coveted herbs and Jett’s concerned face. “If we part with everyst coin for these herbs, how shall we sustain ourselves afterward? We can’t live on nothing.”


    Jett leaned close, his breath warm against my ear as he whispered reassuringly, “Don’t fret about that now. Once we’ve disguised ourselves with these herbs, we’ll move freely again—find sustenance and shelter with ease. One challenge at a time.”


    I nodded, pivoting toward the shopkeeper toplete our transaction when another voice cut through the air, echoing mine. “I’ll take these herbs.”


    A distinguished middle-aged man strode into the shop with the confident bearing of nobility. His impable attire and poised demeanor marked him unmistakably as a butler from an affluent household.


    My brow furrowed in irritation as I quickly asserted, “Sir, we imed these herbs first.”


    The man’s gaze swept over me with practiced indifference before he replied with infuriating calm, “But you haven’t exchanged coins for goods yet, have you?”


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    His dismissive tone ignited a spark of defiance within me. Without hesitation, I snatched the precious herbs from the counter, my voice rising with indignation. “I may not havepleted the payment, but the shopkeeper and I already struck an agreement!”


    Unruffled by my outburst, the man maintained hisposure, his tone dripping with false sincerity. “Lady, my master has dire need of these herbs.”


    With a meaningful nce toward the shopkeeper, he produced an ornate money pouch, dangling it tantalizingly as the coins within clinked together. “Perhaps we can negotiate a more… favorable arrangement. I’m prepared to pay extra.”


    “You…” The words died in my throat, choked by fury. I clutched the herbs with white-knuckled determination, creating a tense standoff that filled the shop with palpable tension.


    In that charged moment, Jett—who had observed the exchange in calcted silence—stepped forward with unexpected diplomacy, his voice measured and curious. “May I inquire about the nature of your master’s affliction that necessitates these particr herbs? These aren’t typically sought formon mdies.”


    Makenna’s POV:


    The middle-aged man’s demeanor shifted instantly, his expression hardening like frost on ss as he said, “This has nothing to do with you.”


    Jett and I exchanged a knowing nce. This stranger’s eagerness to acquire these rare medicinal herbs—and his willingness to part with such substantial sums—suggested he wasn’t just an ordinary messenger. Someone of considerable influence must be pulling the strings behind him.


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