Tyrant's return: Reborn as a Good-For-Nothing Young Master Chapter 49: Ch 49: A Distractioin- Part 2

Fenrir let out a long, satisfying sigh the mont Renie was gone from his property.

The silence that followed was blissful. No complaints. No questions. No potion theft.

He leaned back in his chair, the corners of his mouth twitching into a faint smirk.

He had never actually told Renie where the ingredients could be found.

All he’d given her was a vague list of monster by-products and obscure herbs that were scattered across several mid-tier dungeons.

Most of them were ssy to acquire—materials dropped from monsters that were either annoying to fight or slled awful to carry.

It was, in a way, a punishnt wrapped in responsibility.

But Renie was an A-class, and judging by her sharp senses and confidence, she was probably skilled enough to pull it off.

Hopefully, it would keep her occupied for a while. At least long enough for Fenrir to catch his breath and make progress on his real goals.

He stepped outside once he confird Renie was nowhere in the area.

Just to be sure, he scanned for any traces of mana signatures or presence left behind. Finding none, he left his house, walking casually down the street—but not before placing an order for upgraded security systems.

There was no way he was leaving his ho that exposed again.

Reinforced doors, new mana-based locks, even an enchantnt that would alert him if soone so much as breathed too hard near his potions stash.

By the ti he returned, everything had shipped to his storage space. He could install it later.

He entered his lab through the concealed path behind his main house.

The door opened silently, and to his relief, everything looked untouched. No signs of intruders, no stolen vials, and—most importantly—no Renie.

He stepped into the cool, quiet space and imdiately felt at peace.

The faint scent of mana-rich herbs and carefully distilled liquids lingered in the air. He slipped on a pair of gloves and made his way to the back, where the entrance to his personal dungeon lay.

With a light touch and a pulse of mana, the dungeon door creaked open.

The first thing he saw inside was Nedrax—the lizard-like, overly serious familiar—standing atop a wooden crate.

In front of him were rows of plump, glowing hamsters standing at full attention. Nedrax was pacing in front of them, gesturing dramatically with a wooden stick.

"Obedience! Loyalty! Discipline! These are the pillars of service under Master Fenrir!"

Nedrax barked, pointing the stick like a general.

The hamsters saluted in unison, their tiny paws raised to their furry heads.

"Yes, General!"

Fenrir blinked. He had no idea when Nedrax had started this... military operation. But he wasn’t complaining.

"We’ve got work."

He said, walking in.

Imdiately, the hamsters squeaked with joy and scattered across the lab, grabbing cloths, buckets, and scrubbers.

Fenrir left them to clean while he moved to his storage cabinets and fetched a handful of glowing herbs from a locked drawer.

The herbs radiated faint warmth and mana—just the right amount to keep the dungeon creatures fed and content.

He tossed the herbs to the hamsters, who pounced on them with cheers of delight.

"I’m going to have to find a better food source for you lot. Can’t keep throwing herbs into your mouths."

Fenrir muttered.

The hamsters didn’t seem to care. One was rolling across the floor in joy, while another had already started chewing with both paws.

With that in mind, Fenrir opened his system shop and browsed for dungeon-friendly vegetable seeds.

He selected a few fast-growing ones that could survive in mana-rich environnts and bought them.

A flash of light confird the purchase, and the seeds were deposited into his storage.

He made his way deeper into the dungeon, to a vacant, fertile patch of land he’d been saving for experints.

Carefully, he began planting the seeds, embedding them with mana to help them grow faster.

"Nedrax! Tell the hamsters not to co near these plants."

He called over his shoulder.

Nedrax appeared imdiately.

"Understood. I will enforce your will with absolute authority."

"Good."

With the plants now in place, Fenrir returned to the main lab area.

By afternoon, the space sparkled—floors mopped, shelves organized, and brewing equipnt gleaming. The hamsters were lined up, waiting for their next command.

Fenrir felt a rush of satisfaction.

It was rare for him to have everything in order and no one breathing down his neck.

He pulled out his brewing tools, arranged his ingredients, and looked over his notes for the next batch of experintal potions.

With a calm breath, he channeled mana into the equipnt, the runes glowing faintly in response.

"Ti to make so magic."

He said, smiling faintly to himself.

And without any interruptions, he got back to work.

By evening, Fenrir held in his hands a pink-colored potion that glead faintly under the soft lights of his lab.

The viscosity was just right, and it shimred slightly as he swirled it in its container.

The system gave it an imdiate classification:

[Recovery Potion, C-class, Grade B]

It was the best one he had managed to brew so far, and even Fenrir had to admit it looked pretty impressive.

Satisfied, he began preparing to list it on the market. As soon as he opened the sales interface, a new notification popped up.

[System Upgrade Complete: Market Insight Module Unlocked.

Now capable of estimating average market price based on quality, rarity, and utility.]

Curious, Fenrir tapped on the new feature, and the system began analyzing the potion. A mont later, a suggested price appeared.

[Estimated market value: 11,000,000 credits.]

Fenrir raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t cheap by any ans, but considering how difficult it was to brew and how effective it seed, it wasn’t unreasonable.

Still, he wanted a cleaner number—easier to manage and less suspicious for repeat buyers.

So he set the price at an even 10 million credits and uploaded five potions to the listing.

The mont they went live, the notifications started rolling in. The market took notice, fast.

Social forums and trade boards exploded with chatter about the new product from the elusive potion-maker ’X.’

People were stunned at the sheer effectiveness of a C-class potion that claid to heal major wounds instantly.

No other potion in the sa tier ca close. The description itself drove half the buzz:

[Recovery Potion – C-Class (Grade B). Heals major wounds instantly. A life-saving item for combatants and explorers alike.]

Within minutes, all five potions sold out.

Fenrir leaned back, arms crossed, and watched the screen. Once again, he had shaken the market. And this was just the beginning.

The influx of sales brought a flood of ssages, inquiries, and even purchase requests to ’X’s anonymous storefront.

So were from small guilds desperate for any advantage, others from wealthy individuals offering to buy in bulk at even higher prices.

Fenrir ignored most of them.

He wasn’t interested in building partnerships or catering to orders just yet.

Right now, he was focused on testing the limits of what he could brew—and how the market reacted.

With the price point validated and the system offering accurate projections, he knew he had full control. It was a perfect balance of supply, secrecy, and demand.