Despite his earlier preparations, Fenrir quickly realized that keeping a dungeon plant like the Moon Flower alive outside of its natural environment would require more than just a high-mana chamber and modified soil.
The core issue was energy.
'Tsk. The original dungeon would be the best place to get resources, but I don't have time to go there. Looks like I'll have to look for an alternative.'
Dungeon soil wasn't just rich—it was alive with raw, circulating mana.
Its presence couldn't be replicated with just nutrient supplements.
The key was stimulation: something that could mimic the magical feedback loop that made dungeons so unique.
Fenrir needed a continuous source of external mana to keep the soil from going inert.
There was only one viable solution.
"A mana-stone seems like my best option. It would have been the best if I could create my own."
He muttered, scrolling through the marketplace on his terminal.
The listing was there.
A small, refined stone about the size of a coin, capable of outputting a low but stable stream of mana. It could keep a single cultivation tank charged for roughly a month.
The catch? It was priced at 20 million dollars.
Fenrir stared at the number.
His personal account would dip just under 5 million if he made this purchase. But he did not see another choice right now.
He had been spending fast—lab materials, warding equipment, rare herbs.
Even with his inherited fortune and early investments, he was burning through funds far faster than he'd anticipated.
Most people would still kill to have that kind of money, but for Fenrir, the low balance made him feel uneasy. It was a warning sign. A limit.
For a second, he considered making his own mana stone.
In theory, it was simple: condense raw mana inside one's body, shape it into a crystalized core, and force it out into the physical world.
It would take his own signature and serve as a perpetual mana source.
But he knew better than to rely on theory alone.
In practice, creating a mana stone required immense control—absolute precision.
One misstep and the mana would destabilize, potentially causing internal backlash.
"I'd blow up my lungs before I get it right."
Fenrir grumbled.
It wasn't worth the risk. Not yet.
So, with a frown tugging at his lips, he confirmed the purchase. The screen blinked.
[Purchase Complete: 20,000,000 deducted. Estimated Delivery Time: 2 hours.]
The transaction stung, but there was no going back now.
With his balance critically low, Fenrir turned back to what he did best—alchemy. He opened his personal vault and pulled out three of his high-tier sleep potions.
They were the same as last ones, but this time, he marked up the price to 5 million since those potions were A-grade.
He listed them with a 10-minute expiration window and refreshed the page.
As expected, within seconds, all three were gone.
[+15,000,000 credited to your account.]
Fenrir gave a small, satisfied nod.
Potions were his safety net—his fallback, his bank. Production class was an untapped potential he was beginning to uncover for this world.
As long as he had access to rare herbs and time to brew, he could turn just about anything into gold.
He wasn't broke yet, and he wasn't about to let a single purchase shake him.
A soft chime echoed through the lab. Delivery had arrived.
He opened the reinforced box with a scanner. Inside, nestled in magical foam, was the mana stone—deep violet in color, softly pulsing with arcane light.
Without hesitation, Fenrir broke it into two pieces.
The first half, he buried directly into the soil of the cultivation chamber, making sure it nestled beneath the Moon Flower's roots.
The other half, he dropped into the water tank feeding the irrigation tubes.
Immediately, the system responded.
[Mana Environment Stabilizing...]
[Soil Reactivity: Increasing]
[Photosynthesis Boost: +23%]
[Mana Saturation Level: Sustainable]
A faint glow began to rise from the Moon Flower's petals. They were opening again, slightly more vibrant than before.
Fenrir leaned back, arms crossed, and finally allowed himself a smile.
It was working.
The plant wasn't just surviving—it was thriving.
For now.
With the Moon Flowers in place and the mana levels slowly rising, Fenrir knew it would be a full week before he could determine whether his method of stimulating growth had been successful.
It was a tense waiting game, one he wasn't particularly fond of.
Time had never been his ally, especially when research was on the line. But there was little he could do but wait.
He decided to keep a few of the flowers back for further germination, in case his first batch didn't yield the results he was hoping for.
The rest, he carefully prepared for his alchemical research—he'd brew with them, test their properties, and gather data in the meantime.
______
While Fenrir was busy in his lab, a different kind of stir was happening across the wider world.
The market buzzed with an electric excitement as news spread that the mysterious seller—the anonymous alchemist known for their rare and potent concoctions—had listed an A-rank potion.
The implications were massive.
An A-rank potion wasn't just rare, it was nearly impossible to find on the open market.
A single dose could change the tide of battle or offer a permanent advantage to whoever consumed it.
For hours, people flooded the market page, waiting for the potion to go live.
Everyone knew the price would be astronomical, but that didn't matter.
The rarity and power of the potion alone made it worth every penny.
Fenrir- who had no idea what he just did because of his single action of releasing an A-ranked potion- continued to cultivate his moon flowers.
But he did keep an eye on the form once in a while.
A few whispers from other sellers in the forum piqued his interest.
[I'll be watching closely. Don't blink. That potion will be gone in seconds.]
[I'm setting up an alert, but you're right—this will vanish faster than lightning.]
Sure enough, when the potion finally appeared, it lasted mere seconds before the entire batch was snatched up.
Fenrir barely had time to register what happened before it was all over.
The Supreme Guild, one of the most powerful and secretive guilds in the continent, had purchased every single vial.
The buying power of the guild's elite members was unmatched, and they wasted no time in securing the potions.
Rumors quickly followed.
Whispers about the guild's intention to use the potions for their internal battles, to bolster their forces for an upcoming war, or perhaps for a secret project only they knew about.
But one thing was clear—the Supreme Guild had their hands on something extraordinary.
Fenrir didn't think much of it. He wasn't part of the guild world, nor did he care much about their games.
All that mattered to him was his research, his work, and his ability to brew the potions he needed.
The market might be a frenzy, but he was far more interested in the results of his own experiments.
He turned back to his lab, ignoring the commotion in the outside world.
His Moon Flowers still needed time, and in the meantime, he had plenty of work ahead of him to refine his own creations.