Calling it a market was generous. Sun-aged books sat between dried meats, cheeses, and old sheets across a single shelf. A poorly carved desk held several unkept ledgers and a sack with some unmarked coins spilling out. Behind the desk, an older woman leaned her chair against a wall, resting her eyes.

"Hello, uh, sorry to bother you."

"What do you want?" She asked without even bothering to open her eyes.

"I was hoping to trade if possible. I'll need a couple of coins and some food."

"No."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I don't know you." She paused to cough some flem into her sleeve. " And I don't like you."

"Well, you don't have to like me to like a good deal," I replied, setting small scraps of leather, cloth, and string in a neat pile on her desk.

She opened her left eye slightly, looking at the fabric and then towards me.

"Not interested." She restated.

"You’re missing out on some quality material." I lied in an attempt to make this barter go through.

Her silence was the only response as she continued to relax behind her messy desk.

The way I looked probably didn't help, I thought to myself. If I had even some of those dingy clothes I destroyed back in Salinel, I might have better luck making a deal go through. Almost in response to my thoughts, unfamiliar lettering appeared across the layers of fabric and string. Like when I used my Exotic Skill: Material Reclamation, I focused on accepting whatever prompt it asked me. I told myself there was no way I could break this down further, so where was the harm?

Cloth twisted and ripped in clean tears while string danced between the fabric, creating holes and fastening. Finally, after only several seconds, I had a perfectly crafted tunic folded neatly in my arms, replacing the raw material it consumed.

"Broke?" I questioned, hoping our training from earlier allowed me to avoid specifics.

You just activated your Exotic Skill: Instant Reproduction. Would you like an explanation of how this skill works?

"No thanks, maybe later," I replied, beaming with pride.

My training helped. Magical sentient voices grow up so fast!

I had earned the shopkeep's attention now. Her chair now had all four legs firmly planted on the ground and both eyes open.

"Well," she started sweetly, "You didn't say you were a wizard. That changes everything."

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"Oh, you misunderstand," I replied. "I'm not a wizard, just a tailor."

"Let me get this straight. You'll give me food to eat and a place to stay for three nights. Then, all I have to do is make your family some clothing?"

"Aye." She replied. "Out of the kindness of my heart."

"Deal." I replied, outstretching my hand for her to shake it."

In response, she looked at me with more disgust than any other creature has shown me in my entire life.

"It's, uh..." I retracted my hand. "How we seal agreements where I'm from."

"Putrid filth." She replied, watching my hand pull back. "Don't try that with anyone around here. I'll pretend this didn't happen."

The old bag kept her word, not only to pretend I didn't unleash what was apparently the worst slur imaginable toward her but, more importantly, toward the food and shelter.

I threw together her family's clothes pretty simply and discovered a couple of caveats to my Exotic Skill: Instant Reproduction. One is that I couldn't instantly reproduce something unless I've deconstructed it. So, even styles I crafted in my past life would have no value here unless I managed to create them by hand and then break them down again.

The only exception to this was differently sized clothing. The cloth tunic I deconstructed was meant for assumedly an older man, with room for a slight paunch in the stomach. However, the tunic I reproduced for the shopkeep's grandson fit perfectly to his slender frame.

The shopkeep only had three family members. Her daughter, Katherine, locally known as the town drunk, was a little too excited when it came time for her fitting. She was disappointed when I didn't need to take any measurements, not that I could do any proper fittings without tailor's tape. All I had to do was deconstruct a hand-me-down from the shopkeep's late daughter and then reconstruct it in a way that was slightly more put together.

I also made a more petite dress for the shopkeep's orphaned granddaughter. And put a lovely little floral embellishment across the collar of her dress and her brother's tunic so that the two would match. When I showed the shopkeep to get her approval, I saw her tear up at the sight of the children, though she tried her best to hide it.

It was only the following day that the shopkeep offered me a proposition.

"First off, stop calling me shopkeep, old bag, or whatever. My name is Deanne. I've told you this multiple times. Colter and Jessica won't stop copying you, and it's never been funny."

"Got it, Deanne," I replied. It felt weird rolling off the tongue, but I suppose I could get used to it.

"Second," she paused, thinking about how she wanted to choose her following words. "How would you like to extend the deal we've made?"

"Extend, to what end?"

"Well, for starters, we could move you out of the barn. The attic space is empty. It might make things a little more pleasant for you."

"It might be nice to sleep farther from the manure."

"And I'll continue to feed you."

"I feel like there's a catch coming."

"Well, the only catch would be... And I understand if you wouldn't want to do it... It's just that..."

"Spit it out. You're killing me here."

"We could sell your clothes in my shop. Split the sales fifty-fifty."

I stood shocked, unable to process the offer made to me.

"Your clothes are amazing, even better than what they sell in Salinel or across the sea in Dulcrois. I know I might be arguing against myself here, but if you helped out, I could see Hearston really start to grow and-"

I cut her off as I wrapped my arms around this babbling old woman. Tears filled my eyes, and a snot bubble shrank and grew from my right nostril.

"Oh." She seemed shocked by my sudden embrace. Does that mean yes?"

Incapable of speaking, I nodded my head in agreement.

I had to give it to her; that old broad knew what people wanted.

Within hours of opening, our entire stock had completely sold out. On the second day, it happened faster; people from other satellite towns and even Salinel traveled to Hearston to purchase our premium apparel. It wasn't until our third day that we realized some changes needed to be made.