With a face carefully chosen to look as much like the System NPC medicine boy as possible, he put on a bun hairstyle, a green jacket, and the shorts and straw sandals supplied by the System. After spending five whole copper coins on the most ordinary medicine basket, with a capacity of twenty by one hundred, Medicine Boy A successfully passed himself off as a high-quality imitation NPC medicine boy. He roamed the great medicine fields, overheard countless plots and schemes, and dodged countless open and hidden attacks. He couldn't help but marvel: a high-quality imitation really was the perfect tool for staying alive, making money, and conquering the world.
But, oh mighty lord, shining with golden light and auspicious clouds, could you stay just a little farther away from this lowly nobody? I only accidentally got a golden finger and became a master, and I even hid my name. Was it really necessary to bring a towering figure like you down on me? You're a concealed-weapon fighter, a fragile one with high attack and agility but little health and mana. Could you please stop trying to compete with the tanks and mana-heavy builds? That plain, practical, limited-edition black gear of yours is sparkling with auspicious light. Your defense must be over two thousand, right? With attack, defense, and agility all high, plus tons of health and mana, you're a concealed-weapon fighter leaving no room for melee fighters or swordsmen. Is that the bloody reason you stand against the people? With gear and luck like yours, did you forge yourself a golden body? Your Excellency, please be generous. Whatever it is you like about me, I'll change it, okay?
