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... is hands moving automatically while his mind raced with possibilities. An alchemist's daughter—that was prime investment material.

After what felt like an eternity of yanking stubborn weeds from the dirt, the old woman finally straightened her back with a satisfied sigh. "That should be enough," she said, dusting her hands off.

Karl, ever the gentleman, quickly gathered the bundle of herbs and extended them toward her. "Here, madam. Your bounty of weeds."

The old woman le ...

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