Later that night, Erik sat behind the bustling outdoor kitchen, busy scribbling in his journal. Although he had built a study in their new home, Erik felt more at ease sitting alone in the secluded area behind the burger shack. It was like he had gotten used to the noise and chatter, the chaos shifting into an ambience to help him think and work.

He was lost in thought when he heard the rustling of leaves. Myrese appeared, clothed in a simple, deep violet dress that contrasted sharply with her usual dark cloaks. She looked tired but content, a stark difference from when he had first met her.

"You're still working?" she asked, sliding into the chair across from him.

"Technically, this isn't physical work. I'm just planning," Erik said, not looking up from his journal. "What's up?"

Myrese leaned back in her chair, studying Erik. "Just watching you work, really."

Erik paused his writing, awkwardly shifting his eyes toward her without moving his head. "Is that... fun for you?"

Myrese chuckled. "It's interesting. You're always so focused. It's a stark contrast to the man I was supposed to kill."

"Yeah, it's almost like now and then were two completely different situations," Erik sarcastically quipped. He turned a page in his journal and started to scribble again.

"I suppose so," Myrese said with a hint of amusement. "But I have to admit, the idea of you as a business mogul is... unexpected."

Erik finally stopped working and looked up at the elf. "...What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, most Travelers go the more heroic route," Myrese shrugged. "You know, slay monsters, save the world, become legendary heroes. You, on the other hand... you're more like the guy who sells the hero the sword."

Erik scowled. "And what's wrong with that?"

"Nothing. Same reason why I heal people every time I try to kill them," Myrese said with a smirk. "It's just... not what I was expecting."

"Well, the world doesn't always need heroes. Sometimes it just needs someone to sell the swords," Erik quipped, turning back to his journal. He had jotted down some ideas for the modeling agency, but they were all over the place. It was clear that he needed more time to think and organize his thoughts.

"Yeah? What do you plan on doing after you achieve wealth?" Myrese asked, shifting in her chair.

Erik looked up, pondering her question. "I haven't really thought that far ahead," he admitted. "I guess do what I was brought here to do. Kill the Demon King or whatever." For some reason, Erik felt that that wasn't all he wanted to do.

Myrese leaned back in her chair, stretching out her long legs. "So, what's the first step for this modeling agency?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.

Erik sighed, tapping his pen against the journal. "First, we need to figure out what kind of models we want. It's a fantasy world, so we've got elves, dwarves, orcs, all sorts of creatures. And we need to decide if we're going for a diverse look or sticking to the more traditional human models."

Myrese leaned forward, her eyes lighting up. "How about we go for a mix? It would be interesting to see how different species look in the same outfits."

"That's not a bad idea," Erik mused, scribbling down notes. "We could start with a few of each, and see how the market responds. Maybe even hold some kind of contest to find fresh faces."

As he scribbled, Myrese leaned closer, her eyes scanning the page. "You really think this could work?"

"Fuck if I know. Most of my ideas so far were started with hope and a lot of wishing," Erik said with a shrug, not looking up from his journal. "But at least now I have leeway for failure."

The two continued to chat quietly, their voices barely audible over the cacophony of the burger shack. The aroma of sizzling meat mingled with the scent of chlorine from the water park, creating a unique ambiance that seemed to energize Erik's entrepreneurial spirit. Myrese, on the other hand, couldn't help but feel a twinge of nostalgia. The hustle and bustle reminded her of the elven markets she used to sneak into as a child, the smells of exotic spices and the sounds of bartered deals.

"Oh, there you guys are," Talia's voice interrupted their strategizing. She emerged from around the burger shack, her eyes slightly lighting up as she took in Myrese's dress. "Myrese, you look absolutely stunning."

Myrese blushed, smoothing the fabric of her dress. "Thank you, Talia. It's just something I picked up in the village."

"Who're you wearing that for?" Talia asked bluntly.

Myrese's blush deepened. "I-I just thought it would be nice to change things up," she stuttered.

"I mean, it looks great on you," Erik commented, still absorbed in his journal.

Myrese looked down at her dress, feeling a strange mix of emotions. "Thank you," she murmured, unsure how to respond to the sudden attention.

The moment was short lived as Talia accidentally bumped into Erik, causing him to mess up his writing. The two began to squabble, with Erik ending up in Talia's headlock. Myrese quietly watched the two, feeling a strange sensation in her chest that she couldn't quite place. She sighed, entertaining the hope that she'd finally feel at home with these two.

----------------------------------------

The next morning, Erik yawned as he stretched in his bed. He, along with the other two, were getting used to their new home. In his room, Erik glanced around, noticing the few personal touches he had added since moving in. The walls were adorned with blueprints of the park's future expansions and various sketches of potential modeling outfits. He had wanted to change things up in this world, but his room was slowly beginning to look like the one from his old world.

"Maybe I should get into decorating my room," Erik muttered as he got dressed. He had never really cared about interior design before, but the similarities between his new room and his old was starting to annoy him. He put on a suit, heading downstairs to wait for Talia to wake up. The business professional-wear was starting to grow on him, but since it was still summertime, Erik planned to ask Talia to cast a self-regulating cooling spell on him to help with the heat.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

As he walked through the hallways, he heard the faint sound of chopping coming from the kitchen. He peered in to see Myrese, dressed in a simple apron, chopping vegetables with surprising precision.

"Oh? You're up pretty early," Erik commented, leaning against the doorframe as he watched Myrese cook. "It's a little refreshing to have someone else wake up around the same time I usually do."

Myrese glanced up, her cheeks tinged pink. "Couldn't sleep," she replied, focusing on the carrots in front of her. "I've been... thinking."

"Yeah?" Erik walked in and sat down at the table, pulling out his journal and pen. He twirled the writing instrument through his fingers as he glanced over his pages. "What about?"

Myrese paused in her chopping, her eyes lingering on the journal. "You're always scribbling in that thing."

"Well, it's pretty much half the requirements I need for my conjuring magic," Erik replied, not looking up. "I use my journal as a canvas, sketching what I want to conjure. Then, I use my pen to bring it to life. Simple as that, with the added benefit of storing my ideas in one place."

"Have you ever tried sketching on something other than your journal? Isn't that a book one could buy anywhere?" Myrese offhandedly asked, resuming her chopping.

Erik didn't respond right away. After a few moments, Myrese looked back to see Erik frozen in place, staring at his pen. She swore she could hear static in his head.

"Only one way to find out," he finally said, scribbling something directly on the table. Erik tapped the drawing after he was finished, and a flash of silver light emitted in the room.

When Myrese's eyes refocused, she found herself looking at a strange contraption Erik had conjured. It was a metallic square, with various dials and switches on its surface.

"What... is it?" Myrese asked, setting down the knife as she approached the table, her curiosity piqued.

"In my world, we call it a radio," Erik muttered, noticing that he didn't feel drained from the conjuration at all, "but it's more like... a music box, I guess. It plays music from the air. Or it's supposed to."

He turned the knob on, hearing nothing but static even as he surfed through the channels. "Okay, well, at least I know I don't actually need my journal to bring a sketch to life. Does that mean I only need my pen...?"

Myrese watched as Erik got up and dashed to his room. She sat down in his seat and marveled over the radio, the concept of music coming from the air utterly foreign to her. The contraption was unlike anything she had ever seen before, and the thought of the possibilities it brought was exhilarating. Her curiosity grew as she studied the knobs and switches, her fingers itching to try it out.

Erik jogged back to the kitchen, a perplexed expression on his face. "Good news, kinda? I don't require the pen Osiris sent me to conjure either. It seems like any writing instrument and canvas works."

Myrese looked up from the radio, raising an eyebrow. "So there's no point in carrying that journal and pen around?"

"I wouldn't go that far," Erik grimaced as he sat down across from her. "Having my journal and pen on me makes it easier to conjure things on the fly if needed. What if I get kidnapped again and I don't have anything to write with or write on? Besides, my pen is supposed to be special with the way it never runs out of ink, and the journal has a lot of my ideas in it."

Myrese nodded thoughtfully, her eyes flicking back to the radio. "It's still incredible," she murmured. "The power you possess..."

"Is it though?" Erik scowled. "Having conjuring magic at the cost of not being able to use any other type of magic? I mean, you can use a wider variety of magic compared to me."

Myrese nodded thoughtfully. "True. On the contrary, I cannot use conjuration magic. There's pros and cons to both sides."

Erik sighed. "I guess that's one way to look at it. But still, I'd like to be able to do more than just make stuff appear out of thin air."

Their conversation was interrupted when Talia staggered into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes sleepily. Illyanth padded quietly beside her, snorting quietly when it saw Erik.

"Morning, sunshine," Erik quipped. "Nice to see you up before noon, for once."

Talia grunted, sitting down at the table. "How do you guys do it? Waking up so early?"

Myrese chuckled, setting a plate of eggs and toast in front of her. "Practice. Now, eat."

----------------------------------------

After breakfast, the three of them went their separate ways, with Myrese heading back to the medical center for her apprenticeship, Erik checking on the main burger shack and the water park, and Talia... well, Talia had her own plans.

Once he was done with the daily reports from Alyssa and Ricteronu, Erik headed down the village forge, where Grom and Kinnesthe seemed to be getting along even better.

"What's up with you two?" Erik asked, noticing their unusually high spirits.

"Erik Park!" Grom bellowed, standing on his toes and slapping him on the back with a hand that felt like a sledgehammer. "We've thought about your proposal, and we're very excited to see it come to fruition!"

"Yes, and I think I've secured a spot to construct this production factory you showed us," Kinnesthe added, sharing a smile with the dwarf.

Erik's eyes widened. "Already? That's amazing! Where?"

Grom's chuckle was as hearty as ever. "Don't you worry, my friend. It's a secret spot, perfect for our needs. Plentiful resources and away from prying eyes. We'll show you when the time is right."

Erik couldn't help but feel worried. However, the dwarf and blacksmith were in such good moods that he couldn't bring himself to question them any further. At least, they didn't have the same reputation as Talia for unexpected and unwelcome surprises.

He rushed out of the village forge, declining their offers to drink during the afternoon after his rather unpleasant experience and headed over to Geritara's clothing shop. Along the way, Erik mused over ideas of easier transportation- bikes, skateboards, or scooters for now. Automated vehicles would come later.

Upon reaching Geritara's shop, Erik stopped and stared in shock.

The day before, the shop had expanded slightly, showing off the boutiques of clothing along with more employees. Now, it seemed as though the shop had grown even bigger, which didn't make sense considering that it was lodged in between other shops. Perhaps magic had been involved.

In fact, Erik spotted a sign calling for beautiful models to apply inside, seeing Talia standing next to it. She herself was wearing something from his world that was modest yet seductive; a ruby dress that hugged her curves, showing just the right amount of skin to leave an impression without being vulgar.

"Talia, what's going on here?" Erik called out, still in awe of the expansion.

"Hey Erik. Turns out, there are a lot of women who want to make it big modeling," Talia replied nonchalantly, as if it were the most normal thing in the world for a medieval fantasy shop to double in size overnight. "And men too."

Before Erik could say anything, he spotted Morthanu running out to meet him. The village elder seemed a bit flustered, though Erik couldn't tell if it was because he was caught at a place with barely dressed men and women, or if he had something important to say.

"Erik Park, thank the heavens you're here," Morthanu panted, his words indicating that the reason was the latter, "We have a problem. Multiple, actually."

Erik's heart sank. "What happened?"

"My people have come forth with some issues they have encountered," Morthanu explained. "The hunting party that supplies your burger shacks with ingredients are venturing further out into the forest due to the demand, but they're running into more dangerous creatures that we don't have enough mages for. And with the boom in visitors, many of them are lacking places to rest here, overcrowding the village."

"Oh, fuck," Erik thought to himself as he took out his pen and began to twirl it through his fingers. He had made a grave error that he shouldn't have forgotten during his time spent learning his craft.

"Don't worry, Mr. Mort... I can fix this," Erik reassured, but he didn't feel very confident.