I inserted the last drapery hook into the rod links.

“This should do for now,” I murmured to myself.

I nodded as I caressed the surface of the black curtain. It was soft, and I felt proud of it. It had taken me two hours of weaving and adjustments for the curtain to fit the frame. For now, the cracked window would have to make do with this cover-up.

The wooden stool creaked as I jumped off it. I put it in the corner of the bedroom, trying to avoid the stains on the floor. The ink wasn’t a problem; it was the chemicals that had corroded the marble floor, creating cracks and gaps everywhere.

All of this was because of those ants. I should have stored the reagent bottles instead of leaving them on the desk. But then again, it wasn’t my fault. Who told those ants to pick today out of any other day to commit a rupture?

I sighed, realising that those ants were a part of me too.

“Forget about it.” I chuckled and went to the bathroom, ready to take a shower.

After taking a shower, I stood in front of my open closet, searching for something to wear for the day. After contemplating, I chose to wear something classic—a black tuxedo, a white shirt, and black trousers.

Perhaps the new year’s spirit had got into me after all. I chuckled and shut the closet door, humming while I moved towards my desk and grabbed a round plastic bottle on top of it.

Eh, I’ve already worn the clothes, might as well go the extra mile

I applied gel to my palm and styled my black hair in front of the mirror on the other side of the bed. It was a hassle, to be honest.

“Maybe it’s time to go to a barbershop.”

My hair reached all the way to my shoulder, making it a pain to comb and dress. In the end, I slicked the hair on top of my head backwards and let the rest of it create a mane behind my neck. I let out a sigh and returned to the mahogany desk, putting the gel container down and opening one of the desk’s drawers.

The drawer was filled to the brim with sprigs of artificial white lilies. White lilies were the symbol of my workshop. It matched my name and was memorable to boot. I left the room with a chuckle, an artificial white flower now decorating my breast pocket.

The door led to a hallway where two more rooms existed across my bedroom. Everything was wooden here, especially the refashioned floor and walls. I heard creaks following me as I made my way to the first floor.

I should have renovated the staircase when I bought the building. The noise it produced whenever I hurried down was not pleasant for the ears.

I arrived on the first floor and cracked my knuckles. “Another day, another business.”

The first floor served as the entirety of my store. Not too flashy, but not too shabby either. The scent of Cedarwood wafted through the air, thanks to the many incenses I had put out to stimulate warmth for my customers.

Crouching under an executive table next to the staircase, I pressed a red button. The floor had a hidden mechanism, and I was able to adjust its temperature by pressing either the red button or the blue button.

Soon enough, warmth began to radiate from the floor. I nodded in satisfaction and glanced through the entire floor. Various objects hung on the wall—from decorations and clothes to stoves—each with its unique twists.

Take, for example, the triangular stove. With a flick of a switch, it could be used as a regular stove or a flamethrower. Either option worked! Or that thick plastic raincoat, which was fully functional and could also be used to wrap enemies in cases of danger.

Below them were walls carved inside to be used as makeshift shelves. They contained tamer items, mostly made for daily purposes, such as an automatic clothes folder, a specialised sandwich pan, and a five-in-one all-purpose kitchen knife. These items were popular among housewives in the area.

I flipped the sign on the storefront display and sat down on the sofa in the middle of the store. It was only then that I realised how sluggish my body felt. I rubbed my eyes and let out a tired sigh. The past few days had been sleepless, to the point that I had only rested for three hours.

The imitation chandelier on the ceiling swung gently as I stared at it.

“Why do I keep doing this to myself?”

Just like always, another experiment of mine had taken a toll on my well-being. I had always been told to keep things in moderation and to put my act under control. They must not have tried hard enough, considering how wrecked my condition was.

I massaged my throbbing muscles and groaned. It still ached thanks to the earlier rupture, both literally and figuratively.

Should I take the day off? No, Mrs Paim would pick up her order today. I shouldn’t let my problems intrude on my customer’s trust.

But still, the clock showed it was only ten past six. Mrs Paim would come later this afternoon, surely a nap won’t hurt anybody? I yawned and felt the sofa sink behind me.

It was a worthwhile investment, this sofa. I could feel my body drowning in its softness. The faint buzz coming from underneath the floor dimmed, and I shut my eyelids. Surely anyone would do the same thing if they were subjected to such bliss.

Clouds formed inside my head, goading me into the land of dreams.

They slowly morphed into a figure. “Mr Riley?” I muttered in a daze.

In my head, the cloudy figure of one of my teachers appeared with a ruler in his right hand. He smacked it into his left hand and pointed it at me.

“Stop slacking and get back to work,” he said.

I chuckled. He was right. It was time for me to get back to work.

With that said, I am convinced I would pass out sometime during the day. Let’s not accept further orders, just this once.

I straightened my tuxedo and glanced at the clock. It was fourteen past six, a minute away from the daily morning tune.

Sure enough, a broadcast played throughout the city of Olte, waking up their resting occupants and cheering the ones already awake.

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It was a song sung by children, accompanied by flutes and glockenspiels. The song was called Daybreak, if my memory serves me correctly. Every morning, the loudspeaker on the lampposts would play something without fail, be it instrumental music or songs like this.

As expected of the country of art, only the Republic of Kronasia could pull this off without being abhorred by their citizens. I hummed along with the song and sat before the reception table, pulling out a wooden instrument from the bottommost drawer.

The music box gleamed under the chandelier, the two dancing figures on top of it have never looked more pristine than before, courtesy of yours truly.

Let’s do one final check before its owner arrives. With a swipe of my finger, I undid the screws and peered inside the thing. All the dust and damage accumulated over the years vanished, leaving behind a shiny interior and new bolts, also courtesy of yours truly.

Just to make things sure, I extended my mana tendrils and drew a casting circle on my forehead. The tendrils brushed across gently, as I controlled them down to the minute details. If even one stroke is misaligned, then the casting circle would collapse on itself, potentially bringing unwanted consequences.

Still, it was only a second-tier spell, one that I often use on a daily-basis. In fact, the last time I used it was last night. Now is a different circumstance, so I took my time and enjoyed the process of spellcasting.

I completed the final octagon and retracted my tendrils back into my spine. With ten units of mana, a warm sensation washed over my eyes, before the corner of my vision darkened, enhancing what’s left of my eyesight.

Farsight. I have said it and will say it again. Truly a convenient spell.

I scrutinized the walls and corners of the music box. Miniscule holes and gaps too small to be called trouble, those doesn’t matter. What I searched for were loose parts and flawed parts on its mechanism.

There were none, thankfully, so I could move on with the last part of the repair. Before screwing it shut, I layered its cover with adhesives and painted the exterior with another layer of polish.

While waiting for the liquids to dry, I pulled out a piece of paper and began drawing a casting circle with my mana tendrils. Amateurs would prefer using a pen or pencil to draw, but a more experienced caster would prefer to use their mana tendrils.

It was our fifth limb, albeit a limb that takes years of practice to even have a feel of. I drew and stacked strokes, shapes, runes, while maintaining the spell’s symmetric nature.

Once all was said and done, I placed the music box on top of the paper and inserted two hundred units of mana into the casting circle, overcharging the spell. It shone and died out, leaving nothing left on the piece of paper.

Preserve. A mundane third-tier spell to delay the decay of an object. It wasn’t much, but it would at least make the shine last for a couple more months. That was enough to attract old customers back.

Done with my work for the day, I pulled out an empty blueprint. The ants had damaged many, so I have to redraw them before I forgot their details, this time with a quill.

As I continued to sketch the blueprint, more and more people began to show their activities outside the building. It wasn’t that there was no one before the song played, but their numbers increased drastically afterwards. It didn’t take long for someone to ring the bell.

—Ding-dong~

A woman in her thirties opened the entrance of the store and swiped the bead curtain behind it. She wore thick clothes suitable for the winter and carried a brown purse, and her smile seemed to greet me beyond the door.

“Very early, Mrs Paim,” I said.

She let out a soft laugh and waved her hand. “Don’t mind me, sweetie. I couldn’t hold myself back from checking my beloved. Tell me, is the music box finished? Or should I return later to collect it?”

“You are in luck, madam. I have just done the finishing touches. It’s good and ready to go.”

“Wonderful, then.”

She stepped inside the store and turned around, dispelling the spell in her snow umbrella and shaking off the snow on top of it. She walked in and sat across from me after putting her umbrella into its designated stand.

“So, how was it?” Mrs Paim said. “It was looking horrible before, so I wouldn’t mind if you couldn’t get it running like it used to.”

“Don’t worry, madam. You came to the right person for the job.” With a smile, I brought the music box to the table and presented it to her. The two dancing figures shone with brilliant pastel colours under her smile.

“I can’t believe it. I would have been more than content to see it playing its tune, but to think you also made the figurines look new!”

She held the music box with care and stared at it in wonder. With bated breath, she wound the lever of the music box, and an archaic tone rang out as the wooden figures danced to it.

She giggled and put it down gently. “Excellent. The others at the tea party would love to see it moving like before. Can you tell me what you did to fix it?”

I smiled. “Not much. All I did was replace some worn-out parts, lubricate the seized-up sections, polish the exterior, fix the gears on the figures, and do some paint job.”

“You say that, yet the others I went to shook their heads once they saw the condition it was in. So, how much for it?”

She pulled out a leather wallet from her purse and stared at me in expectance. I pretended not to notice and tapped my finger on the table. “Let us see.”

I replaced the spring housing and the base plate, cleaned its insides, lubricated the mechanism, polished its exterior, painted the figurines, fixed the gears on the figurines, and replaced its faulty lever with a new one.

All of those, together with the working fee, should amount to—.

“Two hundred thousand firas for everything,” I said.

She whistled as her eyes squinted. “Of course, the cost reflects the craftmanship. Not to mention your status as a young Adept as well.”

Mrs Paim handed twenty red banknotes to me, each having the face of Kronasia’s founding mother and worth ten thousand firas.

“Pleasure doing business with you.” I took the cash with my left hand and stretched my right with a smile. “Do you want the receipt for the music box?”

“No, thank you. That will be all.”

She took the music box with both hands and smiled once again before leaving the store. I had a hunch she wasn’t too happy about the price, but what can I do about it? I needed to make a living.

I’m sure she would have handed these happily if she knew I had advanced to a Magus. Well, not like I would tell anyone about it.

I picked up my quill, about to continue the sketch.

But before I was able to, another person rang the doorbell.

—Ding-dong~

Never mind, then.

I stretched my arms and waited for my new customer to enter. Unfortunately, the person who entered was not at all a customer, and I clicked my tongue as he smiled cheekily.

“Oh, come on. Don’t give me such a look! It’s not every day that I’m willing to visit you!”

“It would be better if you didn’t,” I said, ignoring his laughter and setting down my quill as a headache began to form.

His brilliant shade of golden hair was uncommon, and he always wore a puppy-like face everywhere he went. His face would’ve been pleasant to stare at if not for his annoying smirk.

“What are you even doing here? Shouldn’t you be working?”

“Well,” he grinned and spread his arms. “Nobody would know if you kept your mouth shut.”

“Suit yourself, but clean up your mess first.” I gestured to the puddle of water at his feet. Like me, he didn’t bother with a snow umbrella, bringing snow with him wherever he went.

“Oops.” He knelt and scribbled something on the floor with a pen. Ten units of mana later, the snow and water he’d brought floated out of the door.

My eyelids drooped as I waited for him to finish. Those all-nighters really took a toll on my body, not to also mention the earlier rupture.

I looked at my tuxedo and let out a long sigh. I wouldn’t have worn something like this if I knew how today would play out.

I manifested my mana tendrils and drew a circle on the desk. Unlike Float and Farsight, this particular circle was much more complicated and contained disagreeable shapes and combinations. It was Telekinesis, a third-tier spell.

I inserted the required 100 units of mana and directed it towards the storefront.

“Whoa!” The blond man ducked the Telekinesis and snickered when he saw what its target was.

“How wasteful. A normal Mage would cry if they saw a third-tier spell being used to flip a sign.”

I snorted and crossed my arms. “Spill it. What are you doing here?”