Healing Potions

Ryoshu stood at the reception desk, his eyes fixed on the digital display of his bank account balance. The numbers seemed to taunt him, teetering precariously close to zero. Accepting the room key from the apathetic receptionist, whose disinterested expression grated on his nerves, Ryoshu couldn't help but feel anxious about his financial situation.

"Thankfully, I still have just enough to cover it," he murmured, his voice betraying a hint of uncertainty.

Navigating through the labyrinthine corridors of the hotel, Ryoshu finally reached the elevator. With a soft ding, the doors slid open, and he stepped inside, the cool metal of the buttons under his fingertips offering a fleeting sense of reassurance. Pressing the button for the third floor, he watched the numbers light up one by one as the elevator ascended.

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