Clear Blue Skies
A cloudless blue sky stretched overhead. The weather was perfect.
"Alright, hustle hard at work today."
"...Got it."
After a deep, encouraging kiss, Kernax and I stepped out of the house together. I watched her back as she headed down the road first, waving for a good while. She glanced back a couple times, giving me a shy little wave before heading to work.
"...Whew. Either I gotta hold back for real, or find some damn aphrodisiac somewhere."
Her ass, bursting in those Night Fairy stockings, had me hooked. We'd gone at it sticky and intense until the wee hours. Like every guy at the start, I'd begun full of vigor, but damn if it wasn't humiliating—both Siron and Kernax recovered from their orgasms at a scary speed the more we fucked. Meanwhile, my balls were draining fast. Lucky for me, Kernax had that masochistic streak, so spanking her ass or anal play got her off quick. That's how I'd barely saved face last night. But today? Hell, tomorrow? I was dead certain I'd tap out first.
"If Siron joins in too... I might actually die."
Or maybe get my skull cracked open with a honey night punch first?
I rubbed my sore back and headed to the guild.
Back at the guild after two days off. Nothing much had changed, of course. Still a chaotic mess, with adventurers and receptionists yelling over each other in a volume contest.
Grrrrowl.
My stomach clock—more accurate than any timepiece in this world—went off. Lunchtime.
There wasn't any official lunch break. You just ask around, take turns eating. But as the one and only man here, I didn't have to watch anyone's eyes—I could eat whenever. Unless Siron was around, that is. No chance then.
I slapped a "On Lunch" sign at the reception desk and snuck up to the second floor, slipping into the kitchen.
"Why you slinkin' in like a damn rat?"
Amelia unnie was plopped in a chair smack in the center, chugging beer. Our eyes met. I scratched my head, dodging the busy kitchen staff, and hustled to her side.
"Everyone's swamped—can't make a racket comin' in."
"Brat. If it's busy, don't come in at all."
"...Well, yeah, but comin' from you, it don't hit the same."
"Want me to make it hit?"
She flexed her empty hand—the one not holding the mug—and I shook my head like crazy.
"Anyway, unnie. I showed Kernax that thing yesterday, y'know? She loved it. Said she's writin' an official report today to send to the lord—wants to equip the soldiers ASAP."
"Yeah, figures."
Unnie slurped her beer like it was no big deal, then stood up abruptly.
"C'mon."
"Yessum."
Honestly, aside from when she whipped up free grub for me, I'd never seen her actually work. No bullshit—she's the manager in name only. Real reason she's glued to the kitchen? It's got the beer kegs.
"Unnie. Humanely speaking, clean your damn room. Ain't a pigsty."
"Good point. Clean it on your way out."
This fuckin'... Always with this sidekick bullshit.
"I'm trustin' you handled that thing with the care I warned ya about."
"Of course. I ain't itchin' to get strung up anywhere."
Unnie nodded and kicked a nearby chair my way.
"Neck hurtin'? Sit your ass down. What kinda man has a build like a chick?"
"That's a compliment?"
"Who knows. Anyway, no point repeatin' myself, so skippin' the old stuff... Kernax saw it, so unless some big shit hits, expect Filoria's count to send someone this month to check it out."
"Hope they come quick. Ain't hard to make 'em."
"Not hard, huh... What was that thing called again?"
Night Fairy.
"Night Fairy."
"Name's... Men's tastes are a mystery."
"......"
Feels like a dagger just stabbed my heart outta nowhere.
"So, how many days for one Night Fairy?"
"Days? You mean...?"
"You little shit. I'd know if I was askin'?"
"Ah, no, just... Curious, that's all. Why bite my head off?"
Maybe 'cause I called a drunk? Or no fresh booze mid-chat? She was gettin' twice as rowdy as usual.
"Can crank out ten a day."
"You a mage too?"
"Sometimes I daydream 'bout bein' one."
"......"
Tried lightening the mood with a joke, but unnie didn't even react—just scratched her chin, lost in thought.
But only for a sec.
"Hey."
"Yessum, unnie."
"So you could make those Night Fairy thingies today?"
"Got materials? Yeah. And it's Night Fairy."
"Eh, whatever. What're the materials?"
I worked hard on that name, but sayin' so'd get me wrecked. So I just pouted a bit and answered.
"No special ones set. Last one was iron ingot."
"...Iron ingot? Wait—none fixed? So anything works?"
"Haven't tried, but probably."
"Aaa— shut it a sec."
Unnie smacked my pouty lip with her palm and zoned out again. I rubbed my cheek, waitin' for her to speak.
Took longer this time. Finally, she snapped out and said,
"So that..."
"Night Fairy."
"Yeah, that. Made from iron?"
"Yep."
"How?"
"Trade secret."
"You cheeky fuck, who you takin' for a sucker? You know magic too? Nah, no mana feel..."
Unnie suddenly went off the rails solo, grabbin' my collar, shakin' it, then droppin' puzzled, repeat. Finally settled back in her chair.
"So... iron or whatever, you give it to me, I get the cloth thing?"
"That's right. But unnie."
"What, brat?"
"Those eyes are scary as fuck right now. Gonna piss myself—soften up."
"Oh? Heh... Got a bit worked up."
Unnie felt her face with both hands, nodded, and cutely rubbed her eyes. Soon her usual fierce glare softened back to normal. Still fierce, but way milder.
"Phew~ Alright, Smith. Better materials mean better product, right?"
"Yes, unnie."
"Good. Just checkin'—no one else knows but me?"
"Yessum. Just you."
"Right. Stick to iron for now. Best avoid other stuff. Get my drift?"
I nodded quietly. Yeah—leak this, and I'd get snatched up quick.
Damn, her competence...
"Anyway, you troublesome little shit..."
"Hey, the face of this city a troublemaker?"
"Sittin' on your ass, killin' time, drawin' pay, eatin' free—pure parasite."
"...Deeply sorry."
Wanna argue tons, but me? Smith. Reads the room. Shut my trap.
"Hah~ How'd I get stuck with this hassle... Anyway, brat. Quit reception, make them cloth thingies."
"You can decide that?"
"I'll handle the branch head bitch. Do it. Got it?"
Her glare went from forceful to straight threat. I nodded like mad.
"Good. One needs how many ingots? One?"
"Uh, yep. One per."
"Hm. Say ingot's 9 silver coins, sell cloth for 25. Nets 16 per. Guild takes 10 per sale."
"...10 silver coins?"
Felt off from what I'd heard before. Blinked.
"Brat. Guild buys ingots, so think of it as donatin' 1 silver coin per sale."
"...Unnie. Slaves donatin' now?"
"Smith."
"Yessum."
"Wanna learn real slave life startin' today?"
"On second thought, 10's too low? 12 feels more like a donation."
"Bullshit. 10 it is."
"Yessum. But unnie—Kernax's friend's smithy sells ingots for 6 silver each."
"Nah. That's rackin' up debts to that Kernax bitch. And smiths'll need 'em too—what if they won't sell 'cause they need stock?"
"Point. My bad, short-sighted."
Wouldn't happen—materials'd pile up—but yeah.
"I'll handle iron. Start sales tomorrow."
"Sales? Thought you were handlin' it?"
"Yeah. But you doin' it direct? Million times better than me."
Makes sense. City's face like me pimpin' it? Boom. Nodded on instinct.
"How?"
"Dead simple. Just show here by lunch tomorrow. Tell ya then. Got it?"
Felt iffy, but nodded.
"Good. Lunch tomorrow, brat. Skip like last night gettin' laid? Turn you into a male whore for real."
"Unnie. Crashin' here tonight."
"Bullshit. Clean and scram."
Unnie dropped that ball-shriveling line casual as hell and bounced.