It’s been almost a week since I last spoke to Irene.

Not having any way to message her through the phone does make dating much more difficult. But also more exciting.

You know, not everything is meant to be easy. Some stuff is best when it’s hard—ok, I see what I just said there. Anyway, dirty jokes aside, she needs some time to process everything, right? Let her have it.

I’ve been tremendously busy with work anyway. Plus, I don’t know what’s up with this Day of Blooming. It’s still months away from what they are saying, but every other hour I hear someone talk about it, wondering if they will receive an invite from the Valerii.

It’s like seeing people excited about a Christmas party in September. What’s up with that? Like, can’t you wait for the summer heat to quiet down and just think of carving some pumpkins instead of already thinking about Christmas?

My family was like that. They rigorously did not work during Christmas and Christmas Eve. Heh, they just liked the good reprieve of the vacation, maybe. Or they wanted to spend time with family. Or both.

Who knows, really.

But look, everything’s good, man.

The bakery is churning an insane amount of bread, and I’ve been helping Clodia think of a new layout—she decided she’s going to buy the adjacent buildings and essentially quadruple the size of the kitchen floor. I’ve explained some steps on how to go about mass production of Altamura bread.

It's going to be hard, don’t get me wrong. I suggested we start by opening a location for each big block of the city and placing little fronts to sell bread only. We don’t need to use Happy Bakery as more than the actual lab to do stuff. I’ve thought about it, okay? It would be cool to have an operation that works similarly to the Three Roses, but it’s better to keep working on the bread for the moment while everyone else catches up on how to make a nice puff pastry.

I’ve been drilling my team, and soon they’ll be able to teach the others. Tiberius and Quintus got some skills and additional levels, too. My boys are working extra hard.

Tired, after taking care of everything that had to be done, I sit at the table in my small apartment.

I’ve delivered the new designs for industrial-level bread mixers to Clodia. She commissioned ten of them. All made of bronze.

It’s going to take a while to make everything, but it’s going to kill the bread market. Being able to reallocate workers to just shaping the bread and cooking it means they’ll have much more free time—well, not free. They’ll still be dedicating themselves to bread, but it will skyrocket our productivity.

I smile to myself and prod the Omnium Compendium on the table with a finger.

It’s been a minute since I practiced magic, though. Even though my sleep has been miraculously fixed while I’ve never slept less, I haven’t gotten any new levels in the [Mage] class nor Cantrips done.

I think it’s just about time to…

“Human!” I hear someone banging on my door. I immediately recognize the voice of my landlady.

Well, never mind.

“Coming!” I say, getting up and going for the door.

When I open up, my landlady isn’t the only person I find myself looking at.

“Er…” I look at Clodia’s mother.

Dammit. I forgot her name.

“Aureamanus came looking for you, Human,” Agostina is glaring daggers at me while the richly-dressed old lady by her side just smiles complacently.

“Agostina, please, don’t be hard on him. Hello, Joey. I came to visit to talk business. Is this a good moment?”

“Huh, sure?” I open the door wider.

“Well, Agostina, that will be all. I wish I could see you more around the Green Stretches—if you ever want more employment, let me know. You are a better [Green Mage] than a mean landlady.”

Damn.

I look at Agostina, waiting for her to blow up her temper.

But while she just glared daggers at me, she nods softly at Clodia’s mother.

“I have aged, Marcella. I’d rather not slug around fields all day and deal with arrogant [Farmers] who want to teach me to do my job.”

Marcella! Right!

“Such a pity,” Clodia’s mother replies. “All those levels and skills are going wasted.”

“I could say the same to you,” Agostina rebukes.

“Perhaps,” Marcella replies with a mysterious smile. “Joey,” she turns to look at me, “may I?”

At the moment, I get the impression that I’ve got an old, dangerous vampire asking me if they can cross the threshold of my home. Always wondered why you need to invite them in, but whatever.

“Sure, sure. Please,” I say, showing her in.

Agostina lingers as Marcella enters my apartment.

“Human,” my landlady says, narrowing her eyes, “I heard that you still have to go on a date with my niece. Is she too ugly for you? Did you forget our conversation?”

Oh, shoot.

“What? No, no. Sorry, Agostina, I’ve been super busy with work. I’ll give her a call—er, I mean, I’ll send a message or something. But I’m very busy right now.”

“Busy with other Elves, your [Guard] said,” Agostina squints her eyes.

Oof.

Dammit, Antoninus.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“I’ll get back to her soon, I promise,” I say, embarrassed.

“You better.”

Agostina just turns and walks away, leaving me to gaze at her departing figure.

When I close the door behind me and turn, I find Marcella sitting where I had been just a moment ago, in front of the Omnium Compendium.

“I’ve heard of the enchanted bread mixers you have designed for my daughter,” she says. “You are really a marvelous Human, aren’t you?”

“Oh, thank you.”

“Please, sit,” she gestures at my own table as if I was suddenly catapulted into her own office.

A bit awkward, if you ask me.

“Alrighty,” I say, tense, sitting.

“My daughter has come to me again,” Marcella lets the word hang in the air.

“With good news, I hope?”

“You tell me, Luciani. My daughter used to avoid talking any business with me and trying to make her own fortune—which, on the one hand, I commended. On the other, however, she should have come to me with some of her own issues. I learned from [Merchants] better than me when I was young. Everyone needs a mentor.”

“I can’t agree more,” I say, surprised by the turn in the conversation. “I’ve had some amazing teachers when I was learning how to become a Baker.”

Marcella nods absently.

“I own a sizeable chunk of the Green Stretches, and I recently decided to buy even more,” Marcella says, “I am reserving a great deal of it for my daughter now. I prefer giving people tools rather than just money when I’m investing. Money is easy to squander. And it’s just like food, you can get fat and lazy with it. I’ll also fund those new mixers of yours and the expansion of Happy Bakery. It’s all loans that I expect to be repaid with interest.”

“As it should be.”

“I need you to take a stake in Happy Bakery,” she says, looking straight into my eyes. “Your contribution should be paid back with ownership of at least part of the business.”

“No, thank you,” I reply with a smile.

“You are entitled to it,” Marcella raises an eyebrow.

“You want me to have a bigger investment in it so that its future is ensured,” I state her intentions candidly. “I like your daughter, ma’am. And I like Happy Bakery. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be working so hard. But I’m not sure about what’s in my future.”

Marcella sizes me up and looks back at the Omnium Compendium.

“A rather cheap book,” she says, changing the topic, opening the tome, and browsing through a few pages. “My skills tell me that it would barely sell for anything. Are you learning your magic from this?”

“Yeah, but it’s just a hobby of mine—right, I mean, I just use it in my free time. Magic is useful for self-defense.”

“I’ve heard that as well,” she says with a knowing smile. “Interesting work you have done with the [Soldiers].”

I am not surprised she knows about that. This city is a never-ending gossip mill.

“A simple man living in a cheap apartment suited for an [Apprentice Bakery] while he earns more than your average [Merchant] in Amorium,” she looks around my messy apartment and muses about my condition.

I just keep silent.

This woman wants something.

If being a [Merchant] is anything like being a businessman, you don’t barge into someone’s house without an agenda. And while she made a prod about me getting a stake in Happy Bakery might have looked like the main reason, I get the feeling there’s more than she’s currently letting on.

“Agostina, one of the best [Green Mages] in town and probably the highest-leveled one, wants you to marry her niece, doesn’t she? She’s always been extraordinarily keen on money. If she hadn’t been so obsessed with magic, she would have made for a great [Merchant] herself.”

“She’s been nicer than she lets on,” I reply. “But again, I’m not taking any partnership for the moment. I have some plans for the future.”

“For the homeless, you are saving so much money. I’ve asked my daughter, Luciani. You have a few thousand golds worth of revenue she’s holding for you. She said that if she was a better [Manager], you would probably have even more. Is your plan to really try and pay off all the debts of those men and women staying at the Pratus? And all those who’ll come later?”

“I don’t have much use for money, and I like helping when I can.”

“You learn from a cheap book, and you suddenly crack an enchanting problem that would get you an expedited apprenticeship with any [Archmage] at the Nine Towers Academy. If you used your resources for yourself, you would certainly be even more interesting than you are. Therefore, I wouldn’t say that you don’t have a use for money. Everyone does, always.”

“Perhaps,” I shrug.

This conversation is starting to irk me a little.

“I asked around, and I have no idea when you practice your magic. There’s not much mana leaking from your apartment—there’s actually too little from it. Where, exactly, do you practice?“

“Ma’am,” I raise my hands, “why are you here? Not that I don’t mind a chat, but what’s going on? Should I be freaked out by anything?”

Marcella’s posture shifts on the chair, and she sits straighter, looking at me with sharp, cutting eyes.

“I want you to keep working with my daughter the way you are right now, Luciani,” she says. “But I also need you to stay out of trouble.”

“Excuse me?” I recoil.

“Kid, you heard what I just said. You are smart, aren’t you? You can make a fortune by just doing what you are currently doing with Happy Bakery.”

“Sure,” I say.

She put a ‘just’ in that sentence. Is she going where I’m thinking she’s going?

“I’ll make you the [Perfect Offer], Luciani. Take fifty percent of the bakery. Hire the homeless people you want to hire. I’ll fund it myself for at least fifty of them. You can then use your own funds for the rest of it. My skills are telling me you have had a great business opportunity that involves Happy Bakery, and you didn’t take it. Go take it. I’ll back you up.”

I am stunned by what she’s saying.

“What?”

“Don’t play coy with me. Rotten roots. You want to hire the homeless, right? You want to give them a job. But it’s a security hazard. I’ll put some of my specialized employees inside Happy Bakery to make sure no one is causing trouble. I’ll replace your security detail with my own men, too. You won’t ever have to worry about getting stabbed by some idiot [Soldier] again. This solves all your current and future problems. [Let’s Make Money Together], Luciani. That’s all I’m saying.”

I feel a tremendous pull to accept the offer.

As if.

“I suspect there’s a bigger caveat,” I say, gritting my teeth, resisting.

It’s like a gravitational pull that works not only on my will but also on my mind.

I can see the future she’s promising me. And sure, it works.

It’s heartbreaking knowing it would put roofs on many of my friends at the Pratus’s. It’s delirious when I think how great running a bakery with people who really need the work would be.

But I’ve also learned the hard way that when someone is trying this hard and is so needy, there’s always an angle.

With one big breath, I focus on the same energy I mustered during the bake-off.

It’s an ancestral feeling of power rooted deep in what I’ve learned through baking.

One moment, the gravitational pull is stronger than ever, and I want nothing more than accept it. The next, my eyes snap open, clear.

“Marcella, tell me what’s the other side of the deal. What you are not telling me.”

There’s surprise on Clodia’s mother’s face.

“Don’t worry. I’m still going to be in business with your daughter, no matter what. Just not the way you want it, perhaps.”

“Luciani,” the old woman looks a bit winded now and clears her throat multiple times. “I just want to ensure your safety. As long as you take my deal and stop messing around with [Soldiers] and involving yourself with bigger problems, I’ll have you live the best life you possibly can.”

“Messing up with [Soldiers]?” A surge of anger brews in my chest. “Are you kidding me? Those people went to look for me!”

“And you attacked them. You put a huge target on your back. You can do your magic and keep working on Enchantments, by all means. But for the World’s Tree Roots, just don’t use some stupid spell to break bones. As long as you are willing to leave the bigger problems to me, you’ll be safe.”

I slowly stand up.

I’ve heard enough.

I’ve had one person shelter me from all the problems of the world.

I’ve had the best person help me avoid things I was not ready to confront.

I’ve buried my head in the sand for long enough.

I’m not going to do the same again.

“Marcella. You are not my mother. She passed, and she’s not coming back. She was the one taking care of me. I don’t need someone else to do the same. For all I think your help would speed up the process, I don’t need you lurking over my shoulder to make sure I don’t die. I’ll take care of it. Responsibilities included. If I were to die, your daughter will manage. Now, respectfully, get out of my apartment.”

Marcella stands up, shooting one last glance at the Omnium Compendium on the table.

“You really think a little magic is going to protect you? Luciani, you are making a mistake. My offer still stands. I gain nothing from retracting it like a two-bit green [Merchant]. If you ever lose the mold from your brain, just tell my daughter.”

She makes for the door, but after opening it, she turns to look at me.

“One last thing, do you know what a Military Duel is?”