That's right, that's what adventure is like!

Chapter 121 Foreign Languages

Mithril Corridor

The middle-aged man in the gray robe was not surprised by Roland's visit. After inviting him into the private room, he first explained the subsequent changes to the shop.

"Our shop will be open for the last two days in Broken Rock Town before relocating to the Kingdom's capital—we apologize for the long journey."

He paused, then pulled a list marked in red from under the table: "Please seize this last opportunity."

Roland took the list and glanced at the items. Although there were no words like "clearance" or "fire sale" as in his previous life, the meaning was similar, and many items were priced significantly lower than usual.

However, it did not meet his requirements.

"I don't need many medicines," he said, pushing the list back and taking out a list he had prepared in advance. "These are the main items."

The middle-aged man took the order, glanced at it, and raised his eyebrows slightly.

"Ten bottles of energy potions for professional users?" He looked up, his gaze lingering on Roland for a moment. "Congratulations."

Roland accepted it without saying anything more.

The middle-aged man got up and walked out of the cubicle, moving much faster than usual, clearly indicating that he was busy.

When he returned, he had two wooden boxes in his hands, which he opened and placed on the table.

One contained 10 energy potions, neatly arranged in a velvet groove; the liquid inside glowed with a purplish-red hue under the light.

One contained 12 bottles of commonly used potions, including night vision potions, antidotes, and berserk potions, with various labels on the bottles, the handwriting so neat it looked like printed matter.

"Please take a look," the middle-aged man said, handing Roland a bottle of night vision potion. "It's 20% more effective and lasts for an hour longer than other products on the market. Of course, it's also more expensive."

Roland nodded. That was why he hadn't bought potions here before; the quality was good, but the price was indeed high.

The middle-aged man sat down again and gently pressed a switch. A hidden compartment popped out from the bottom of the wooden box, containing dozens of extremely fine needles with a cold, metallic sheen.

"A syringe, engraved with directional runes," he pushed the wooden box over, his tone softening, "provided only to formal professionals."

Roland was somewhat surprised, staring at the needles. They were so fine that the needle holes were almost invisible, but a sharp sensation sent chills down his spine.

"What's the difference between this and oral administration?"

"Absorption efficiency," the middle-aged man said calmly, leaning back in his chair. "Oral administration will inevitably leave some liquid sticking to the bottle wall, but once the directional runes on the syringe take effect, all the medicine will be injected into your body without any pushing, not a single drop will be left."

He paused, then continued, "Of course, the most important thing is convenience in combat. Oral administration is too cumbersome and makes it easy for the enemy to seize an opportunity to attack."

Roland knew this all too well. Last time in the Blue Crystal Mountains, he bit the mouth of a glass bottle to buy himself a few seconds.

If this step can be skipped, it will be much more convenient in battle, since a difference of one or two seconds can determine life or death.

"Why haven't I seen this before?"

There are two reasons.

The middle-aged man pointed to the pointer and explained, "Firstly, engraving on something so fine, even though it's the simplest directional rune, will increase the cost and make the price higher."

"Secondly, this method is only applicable to professionals. Ordinary people's bodies have not undergone magical reshaping, and their blood vessels cannot withstand the impact of powerful external energy."

It turned out to be the case.

Roland understood, then asked, "What's the price?"

"Originally, a syringe cost 2 gold coins, but now we're willing to provide it to you for free as a parting gift and to make friends with a promising adventurer."

These words were spoken very sincerely, and Roland did not refuse, accepting the kind offer.

Then, he made his next request: "I hope to obtain some means of speaking other languages."

Upon hearing this, the middle-aged man's expression became slightly subtle, and he tapped his finger on the table: "What other languages ​​are you referring to?"

'

"Elf, Dwarf, Orc, or the language of other common races."

Roland stared intently at the middle-aged man, awaiting his reply.

This was something he had wanted to do for a long time but hadn't had the time to study. In this fantasy world, the importance of knowing multiple languages ​​was self-evident.

At the very least, when encountering writing in a foreign language during an adventure, one won't be completely clueless.

Although living with other races for a long time has allowed Roland to learn a little bit of their language, what he wants is to master it systematically and be able to read and write it.

The middle-aged man naturally understood the need. After pondering for a while, he said, "Please wait a moment. I remember that we do have some goods in the warehouse that can meet your requirements."

When he returned to Roland, three more items were placed on the table.

"This is the most traditional method," he said, pointing to a thick pile of dusty documents. "Dictionaries, grammar books, application manuals, including Dwarven, Elven, and Gnome languages, but no Orcs; they rarely left any written records."

Roland glanced at it but made no comment.

The middle-aged man then pointed to a second item, a dark yellow forearm bone covered with rough patterns and traces of flames.

"This is a legacy skeleton crafted by an orc shaman from the bones of a fallen warrior. It contains his life's memories, combat experience, bloodline talents, and naturally, language."

"This thing—" Roland touched the bone, which felt icy cold to the touch, and frowned. "Is this how it's used?"

'

"Of course not," the middle-aged man shrugged. "This thing was originally intended to nurture orc cubs who had just entered the extraordinary realm, and to forge their fighting spirit."

"Regarding your needs, we really don't have a specific method, so this is the only way we can use."

Roland was silent for a moment, then returned the bone to him.

This thing has too many side effects. Putting aside the memory confusion, if it affects his fighting style, it will be a huge problem. There's no need to even consider it.

"What's the third method?"

The middle-aged man nodded and opened the third box. Inside was a crystal the size of a fingernail, filled with green, as if imprisoning a wisp of flowing mist. In the vaguely formed outline, a slender figure could be seen.

"The soul of a female elf is inside," he said, delivering a bombshell announcement right from the start.

Seeing Roland's surprised expression, he quickly added, "Of course, she was imprisoned voluntarily; it has nothing to do with us."

"An elf who had lived for over six hundred years sealed himself inside as he was about to die, as a gift to future generations."

Roland looked at the crystal, and the slender figure inside seemed to sense his gaze and bowed slightly.

The middle-aged man continued, "After you awaken her soul, you'll essentially have an experienced partner who can help you with many things, including learning languages."

He paused, his tone slightly odd: "Of course, this female elf can sometimes be a bit—harsh—when speaking to outsiders. I hope you won't mind and will try your best to win her favor."

Roland understood, of course. He pondered for a moment and then made a decision.

"I'll take the data and the crystals. How much is it in total?"

"The data costs 5 gold coins, the crystal costs 550 gold coins, plus the price of the potion—" The middle-aged man quickly calculated in his mind, "A total of 980 gold coins."

""

"make a deal.

""