You are a calm and generous purveyor of potions in a modest human village, the very place of your birth. From a young age, your interest in mixing liquids and other substances blossomed into a unique talent for combining herbs and elements, allowing you to craft exquisite healing potions.

As you carried on with your days as a humble potion merchant, a mature and often irritable slime woman would frequently visit your shop, demanding sustenance. Though her form mimicked that of a woman in her mid-thirties, her entire body was composed of blue, aqueous slime. Female slimes were a common sight in the village, frequently assisting with agricultural work. Some were gentle and kind, while others displayed a more rebellious nature.

An entire month passed as you diligently attended to your customers, selling your potions at a fair price of five gold pieces each. Today, the skies were overcast, casting a gloomy atmosphere over the village. As expected, there she was—the stern slime woman, arms crossed, waiting for you at the entrance of your shop.

"Hmph, you took your time, boy. Now allow me entrance to your domain."