Ten days in the modern world, fifty days in the Second World.
Luis wandered through the bustling streets of Anyu Town, his mind far from the noisy market stalls and shouting merchants.
Ever since he Lab experimented the GrowMax Growth Agent, one thing had been clear, he needed a company to sell it. But more than that, he needed a system.
A foundation.
For secrecy's sake, the core ingredients would have to be processed here, in this ancient world where no one knew about patents or industrial espionage. Only after the raw materials were refined here would he transport them to the modern world, where the final formula could be perfected and packaged.
But to protect such an operation in this chaotic land…
He needed power.
The modern world had laws. Flawed, but still laws. You could start a company, file a patent, hire security, and sleep at night.
But here?
Here, power was everything. The strong ate the weak, and the law was the sword on your belt.
Almost two months had passed since Luis first stumbled into this strange world.
By day, he worked in his lab in the modern world, blending into his ordinary life as a scientist.
By night, he crossed over, spending his time exploring, experimenting, and surviving in the Second World.
One modern day night translated into roughly 2.4 days here. Meaning every single modern day felt like three and a half days of non-stop work and danger for him.
Daytime was science. Nighttime was survival.
And in these fifty days, much had changed.
The most important development? He finally had his first follower.
Jack.
A mid-level physical training martial artist, trained in Tiger Martial Arts.
Luis had first met Jack by chance. They lived near each other in Anyu Town.
Jack's mother had been gravely ill, coughing blood and growing weaker by the day. Desperate, Jack had run from clinic to clinic, doctor to doctor, but in this backward world, no one could even name the disease, let alone cure it.
Luis, recognizing the symptoms from his own world, suspected tuberculosis right away.
But he didn't act rashly.
For twenty-five days, Luis observed Jack from the shadows. He watched how Jack took care of his mother, selling his sword to afford medicine, how he stayed honest despite the cruelty around him, how he never gave up hope.
Jack wasn't a thug. He was a filial son and a man of integrity.
Only then did Luis step forward.
Using a simple combination of antibiotics he bought from the modern world, Luis treated Jack's mother. Slowly, steadily, her condition improved.
And just as Luis predicted, Jack's gratitude knew no bounds.
The martial artist pledged himself to Luis, body and blade. Not for wealth, but out of loyalty.
In a world where strength ruled and kindness was rare, Luis had gained something far more valuable than money.
A trustworthy ally.
----
Lost in thought, Luis found himself walking toward the bustling heart of Anyu Town.
There was something he lacked in this world—local knowledge. Especially in medicine.
If he wanted to survive here long-term, GrowMax alone wouldn't cut it. He needed to understand the herbs, the medicines, and the healing arts of this world.
Soon, he stopped in front of a modest but well-established building: Daniel Medical Clinic.
It wasn't grand, but in a town like Anyu, reputation mattered more than appearance. This was one of the few places known to actually heal people rather than scam them.
Pushing open the creaky wooden door, the scent of dried herbs and aged wood filled his nose.
Behind the counter sat an old man in a plain brown robe, white beard flowing down his chest like silk threads. His sharp eyes sized Luis up the moment he stepped in.
"What's wrong with you, boy?" the old man asked, voice rough but not unkind.
Luis gave a polite bow. "Doctor, I came not as a patient, but seeking work. Are you by chance looking for an extra hand?"
The old man squinted, tapping his fingers on the counter.
"What do you know of medicine? This isn't a charity. I'm not taking apprentices right now."
In his eyes, Luis didn't exactly look like a rugged herbalist more like a sheltered rich kid trying to play doctor.
Without another word, Luis pulled out a silver block from his pouch. Nearly 500 grams of pure silver. Its polished surface gleamed under the oil lamp's light.
"Doctor," Luis said humbly, "my father says I am unworthy of managing the family business. I wish to learn a skill of my own. This is my sincerity. I'll bring more silver if you'll teach me."
The old man, Daniel froze. His eyes lingered on the silver block, unable to hide a faint gleam of interest.
From the weight and shine, this was genuine, enough to melt into a hundred silver coins enough to keep the clinic running for months.
Daniel finally chuckled, stroking his beard.
"So, a rich boy with some humility. Fine. Follow me."
He pocketed the silver and stood, leading Luis through a narrow hallway into the clinic's backyard, where medicinal herbs hung from drying racks and wooden shelves lined with labeled jars filled the space.
"Let's see how long your enthusiasm lasts."
And so began Luis's first day of formal study.
For the entire day, Daniel taught him the basics. How to identify herbs, how to dry them properly, and how to grind and mix them into simple powders. Luis watched carefully as Daniel prepared a Stop Bleeding Powder, the most common wound treatment in town.
Of course, this was only scratching the surface.
Luis knew he had much more to learn, but his modern scientific background gave him a huge advantage. In his eyes, the herbal preparation process was a simplified version of pharmacology.
When evening came, Luis left the clinic carrying four worn-out books, his mind buzzing with possibilities.
It turns out the profession here wasn't called "doctor" or "chemist" it was Pharmacist.
And in towns like Anyu, pharmacists were indispensable.
They were the backbone of both healing and martial arts cultivation. Their responsibilities stretched far beyond tending to the sick.
—Formulating medicinal powders, pills, and pastes.
—Identifying and harvesting herbs from the wild, knowing which combinations healed and which combinations killed.
—Tailoring formulas to match a patient's constitution, cultivation level, or type of injury.
For Luis, this was almost straightforward. With his modern-world background, a simple microscope could outperform the best herbalists in this world. A chemical balance, a drying oven, and a grinder, all equipment he could recreate using the dimensional transfer of small machines from his lab.
In this world, the process was seen as art.
To Luis, it was just science.
Select Ingredients → Dry → Grind → Mix → Activate → Package.
However, precision was key. One wrong dosage, one poorly processed herb, and your medicine became poison.