abnormal mutation

Chapter 19 Yulia

Feeling rooted to the spot, Rolandon dared not move. If the owner of this place was a germaphobe, it would definitely cause trouble for Julia.

The pharmacy was decorated with great care; it was clean and tidy, and the thick walls had been specially treated for insulation and soundproofing, all of which showed that the owner was very particular.

"Hello, could you please call Yulia for me?" He looked at the strange man, his eyes sharp.

Judging from the strange man's actions, he is most likely not the master, but he also has ill intentions.

The strange man lay motionless, raised one hand and waved it: "No. You either wait, or you go up yourself."

"..." Roland never expected such an answer. The weirdo was not only strange in appearance, but also in mind.

He had no choice but to clean the carpet with the hem of his coat and then wait at the counter. There wasn't even a place to sit, so he could only stand there.

The strange man lay on the recliner with his eyes closed, it was hard to tell if he was asleep.

An hour passed quickly, but no guests came, and there was no sound from upstairs. Roland even suspected that Julia wasn't there; it was a wooden building, after all, and if someone were upstairs, his keen senses would surely have heard it.

"Hello, my name is Roland, what's your name?" He focused his gaze on the strange man, his tone calm and devoid of emotion.

"Hehe, everyone calls me a scholar." The strange man raised his head, looking very energetic, as if he hadn't slept at all.

"Hello, sir, are you the manager here?" he asked tentatively.

"I'm a pharmacist!" the strange man suddenly sat up and emphasized loudly, running his fingers through his hair indignantly. "I hate it when you judge people by their appearance."

“I knew it.” Roland clapped his hands, his eyes widened, and he raised an eyebrow, looking as if he had known all along. “I knew you were full of wisdom the moment I saw you. Your skills must be unique and unparalleled in the North.”

"Uh...it's not that strong, is it?" the strange man stammered, becoming modest instead.

This is definitely not someone of great talent, Roland thought to himself with a smirk, because confidence is an essential quality of a master.

"Sir, what potions do you specialize in making? I've long admired pharmacists, but unfortunately, I've never had the chance to learn about them." Roland decided to cater to Roland's interests and pique his interest.

The strange man grinned, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth, and was about to speak but then stopped: "Never mind, you wouldn't understand even if I told you."

"It's understandable that I'm ignorant," Roland said nonchalantly. "Scholar, what kind of potions are sold upstairs? Are they potions for extraordinary individuals?"

"Hey, you know quite a lot." The strange man shook his head, his hair flying around like seaweed. "Upstairs is the bedroom, we don't sell anything there."

"Huh?" This result greatly surprised Roland. "Yulia is resting? By herself?"

"What do you think?" the strange man asked, looking at him with a puzzled expression.

Roland stroked his chin, his mind a jumbled mess, just like the strange man's hair. It seemed that Yulia's status was higher than the strange man's, so he was just outsmarting thin air.

The strange man was unwilling to shout, probably because he was afraid of offending people.

"When will she wake up?" Roland needed her help and didn't want to disturb her rest.

“I don’t know,” the strange man said with a peculiar expression. “She’s usually sleeping when I’m at work.”

"When do you get off work?"

"I'll get off work when it gets dark."

"..." Roland lowered his head, barely managing to swallow the curse that was on the tip of his tongue. If looks could kill, this weirdo would probably be dead three times over.

He took out his pocket watch and glanced at it. It was only one o'clock in the afternoon, and there were still more than six hours until it got dark.

He put down the basket, went outside to carefully clean his snow boots, and vigorously wiped them with the hem of his fur coat. When he returned, he took off his fur coat and put it with the basket, then ran up to the second floor. At the end of the stairs was a carved wooden door. Roland raised his hand, paused for a moment, and then knocked three times forcefully.

"Boom, boom, boom..."

There was no response. Roland paused for half a minute, then knocked a few more times, this time with even more force.

"Boom, boom, boom..."

Roland listened intently, and after a while, he heard rustling sounds of someone getting up, followed by light footsteps approaching quickly. He heard a door inside be suddenly pulled open, the footsteps becoming clearer, and then the door in front of him was violently pulled open, creating a gust of air.

In a flash, a woman with loose hair and exquisite features appeared before him. She wore only a thin garment, the outline of her chest vaguely visible, her neck and collarbone exposed, smooth and white, and an unknown fragrance wafted into his nostrils.

"You'd better have something important to say, otherwise... you'll say goodbye to women for the rest of your life." The woman exuded an aura that kept strangers at bay, and her brown eyes were colder than the Frost River.

Roland sensed something was wrong; this woman was quite grumpy in the morning. He didn't dare look any longer, but when he looked down, the white glitter in front of him became even more dazzling. He immediately turned his head and gently handed the envelope to the woman.

"Excuse me, are you Ms. Yulia? This is a letter that Grandma Mia asked me to give you. I meant no offense, please forgive me."

Suddenly, the letter appeared in the woman's hand. Her slender fingers unsealed the wax seal and took out the letter to read it.

Roland, who was standing to the side, noticed that the woman's aura had softened and breathed a sigh of relief. For the sake of Grandma Mia, the other party should not make things difficult for him.

A few dozen seconds later, the woman turned and went back into the house.

"Come in and close the door."

Roland quickly followed and closed the door behind him.

Upon entering, you'll find a small living room, complete with a coffee table and tea set. A cabinet in the corner holds tea canisters and pastries. A glass window on the south wall lets in plenty of sunlight, making the living room bright and airy.

There was a door on the inside of the living room, which should be the bedroom. The woman walked straight in with the letter in her hand. The door was not closed, but Roland did not dare to follow and waited quietly outside.

The woman soon returned, wrapped in a large cloak with purplish-red fur that matched the color of her hair.

She sat lazily in the chair, legs crossed: "You're Roland? A descendant of the Solonians?"

“Yes, her full name is Roland Hohenzollern Otto.” Roland looked at the coffee table, but out of the corner of his eye he saw a small, fair foot; she wasn’t wearing shoes.

“I am Xilin Soren, we are of the same race. You call Mia Auntie, so that is my nephew. Come, call her Auntie.” Yulia’s voice was deep, magnetic, and very charming, and her steady tone was very similar to that of Mia’s grandmother.

“This…” Roland had never heard of such a request before. He felt that he couldn’t let someone take advantage of him for no reason. “It can’t be calculated like that. It should be deduced from the Soren lineage. Grandma Mia and I are not directly related by blood.”

His lineage wasn't noble; they were relatively poor for generations, married late, and thus held a high seniority. Moreover, there were too many Solon descendants to count.

"If you don't call me, it means you don't acknowledge me or your relationship with Aunt Mia. Then you'd better give me an explanation today." Yulia's tone changed, becoming cold and aggressive.

Roland was speechless. There was a strange person downstairs, and the person upstairs was even stranger. He made up his mind that he would never come here again.

"Auntie." Roland wasn't the original owner of this body, so he had a flexible bottom line. A wise man doesn't fight a losing battle. He'd get through this first, get the medicine, and then leave.

"Hahaha..." Yulia laughed so hard she almost fell over, her cloak slipping down to reveal her snow-white thighs. "Good girl, you're a little different from what Aunt Mia said."

"..." Roland remained silent, feeling that this Julia might be a bit neurotic.

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(End of this chapter)