First Customer, an Old Pair of Gloves
The first customer brought me a single, worn-out glove.
I placed it on the workbench and stared at it for a moment. There was no magic in it. No defensive spells, no mana circuits, and no functions to assist the wearer. It was just a leather glove. But its condition was terrible. The strap around the wrist had stretched out, and the leather between the thumb and index finger was split thin. The back of the hand was loose as well. I flipped the glove over and checked the lining.
“This isn’t a glove made to fit your hand, is it?”
The male student flinched.
“Pardon? Ah, yes, that’s right. I couldn’t afford a custom order…”
The finger lengths were slightly off. The index and middle fingers especially were too long. On the other hand, the part meant to secure the wrist sat about half a size too inward. If it had been an ordinary glove for daily wear, the discomfort would have ended there. But for a glove used to grip a sword, it was a different story. The moment force was applied, the glove wouldn’t help the hand—it would hinder it.
I looked at Yoo Hamin’s hands. They were covered in calluses. These weren’t the hands of someone who held a sword carelessly. There were repeated pressure marks on the finger joints and the inside of his palm. Yet only his left wrist showed a red, chafed mark.
“Do you tend to brace a lot with your left hand?”
The male student’s face filled with surprise.
“How did you know?”
“The glove is worn that way.”
It wasn’t a lie. Clothes reveal more than people think. Where force is applied, where things are loose, where they’re constantly being tugged. If you handle clothes or gloves long enough, those traces become obvious.
In the latter half of the original story, Yoo Hamin would be called the empire’s strongest sword. But I couldn’t remember exactly how he got there. If my memory had been that good, I would’ve gone into an IT company instead of becoming a tailor. Still, one thing was certain: in the early stages, Yoo Hamin suffered from a wrist injury for quite a long time. And looking at this glove now, I could see why.
I set the glove down.
“I can just sew it up.”
Yoo Hamin’s expression brightened a little.
“Then if you could please…”
“But it’ll break again soon.”
His face immediately stiffened.
“Pardon?”
“If I only mend the torn parts, it’ll look fine on the outside. But the fit will still be wrong. When you grip your sword hard, the wrist area will shift first.”
“Then what should I do?”
“I’ll have to take it apart.”
“Take it apart?”
“Yes. I’ll rip out the parts that don’t fit your hand and readjust them.”
Yoo Hamin looked down at the glove with an uneasy expression. Since he’d said it was a hand-me-down, it probably wasn’t easy for him to entrust it to someone. I understood. Old clothes or gloves often weren’t just objects. They carried traces of someone’s long use, and there was usually a reason they couldn’t be thrown away. That’s why I had to be even more careful. Simply making it look brand new wasn’t the right approach. I needed to preserve the parts the wearer wanted to keep.
I lightly tapped the back of the glove.
“I’ll keep the outer leather as intact as possible. But I’ll be changing the internal structure.”
“How much will it cost…?”
There it was. He didn’t look like he had much money. He’d already mentioned he couldn’t afford custom clothing. In the original story, Yoo Hamin had been a student barely scraping by on a scholarship. He wasn’t a customer who could pay a large sum right now. But his future value was enormous.
I thought for a brief moment before speaking.
“Let’s put it on credit for today.”
“On… credit?”
“Instead, once you succeed, take one of my requests with priority.”
Yoo Hamin looked flustered.
“Do you really think I’ll succeed?”
Instead of answering, I looked at his hands. A worn-out glove. Ill-fitting equipment. And yet the calluses that remained. I didn’t know if he had talent or not, but at the very least, these were hands that hadn’t given up. Of course, since I knew the future, I was even more certain.
“Gloves don’t lie very often.”
“Pardon?”
“If you’ve used it until it’s worn out this badly, it means you’re not the type to quit easily.”
Yoo Hamin was silent for a moment. Then he slowly bowed his head.
“Please take care of it.”
“First, I’ll measure your hand.”
I took out a measuring tape. Yoo Hamin awkwardly extended his left hand. I measured the circumference of his wrist, checked the length of each finger, the height of the back of his hand, the angle of his thumb joint, and even the direction the skin stretched when gripping a sword.
“Relax your hand.”
“Ah, yes.”
“A glove shouldn’t be fitted to a clenched fist, but to a moving hand.”
Yoo Hamin looked like he didn’t quite understand, but he still loosened the tension in his hand. Using that state as the baseline, I readjusted the inner lines of the glove. I cut. Not the leather itself. Only the wrongly placed stitches. Using Seo Yirin’s ability. Not with magic, but with thread.
-Snap.
The thread came undone quietly. Using the same power that once tore apart the royal barrier to unpick the seams of an old glove… the original Seo Yirin might have found it ridiculous. But for me, this was far more familiar. Cut, preserve, reconnect. Repairing clothes was nothing but repetition.
I left the outer leather mostly untouched. Instead, I changed the inside. I loosened the part that pressed on the wrist and added a thin reinforcing leather to the loose back of the hand. Between the thumb and index finger, I inserted a small piece of the leftover leather. I avoided making the wrist fixation too strong. Beginners often made the mistake of thinking that if something felt unstable, they just needed to tighten it. That way it wouldn’t slip off or slide. But the wrist wasn’t a part that became safer the more it was bound. It needed to move as much as it had to move.
A good glove doesn’t trap the hand. It simply makes the path the hand wants to take a little safer.
I finished the final temporary seam. On the outside, it still looked like the same old glove. But now the size fit Yoo Hamin’s hand perfectly.
“Try it on.”
Yoo Hamin carefully slipped the glove on. He clenched and opened his hand a few times, and his expression gradually changed.
“This is strange.”
“Is it uncomfortable?”
“No. On the contrary… it feels like it was originally made for my hand.”
“Then the first stage is complete.”
“First stage?”
Yoo Hamin lifted his head. I took the glove back and placed it on the workbench.
“I’ve adjusted the size. But this isn’t the finished product yet.”
“There’s still more to do?”
“Yes.”
I pointed to the inside of the glove.
“I’m going to add a circuit here.”
Yoo Hamin’s face hardened.
“You mean you’re turning it into magic equipment?”
“Something like that. More precisely, it’s a circuit that disperses the force concentrated on the wrist. It won’t increase attack power. It’s meant to keep your hand from breaking.”
“Is something like that even possible?”
“I’ll make it possible.”
The problem was the material. Ordinary thread wouldn’t work. The circuit inside the glove would have to endure constant folding, pulling, sweat, and friction. If it was too stiff, it would kill the feel of the hand. If it was too weak, it would snap after a single duel. Since magic in the original story was something that changed with even the slightest shift, simply engraving a permanent circuit into equipment wasn’t easy. Moreover, an overly powerful circuit would be poison to a beginner. If the glove moved before the hand, the sword would be ruined. The glove had to follow the wearer’s movements. The circuit could only support the user’s ability. I needed a material like that.
I folded the glove and put it inside the workbench.
“Come back tomorrow.”
Yoo Hamin looked flustered.
“It can’t be done today?”
“It can’t. I don’t have the material for the circuit.”
“If it’s material… should I go get it?”
“No.”
I answered briefly.
“I’ll get it.”
Yoo Hamin stared at me for a moment. For a poor student, it had to feel burdensome. Still, it couldn’t be helped. I couldn’t sell shoddy goods to the future Sword Saint. This was my first customer. And my first investment target. If I made it half-heartedly, I’d be the one losing out. If not now, when would I properly stamp my face on him?
“The cost will be added to the credit.”
“…Understood.”
“Don’t look so scared. I won’t charge you an outrageous amount.”
At least not right now.
Yoo Hamin bowed his head with a slightly complicated expression.
“Then I’ll come again tomorrow.”
After he left the shop, I looked down at the glove still on the workbench. The size was right. The structure was set. All that remained was the circuit.
I opened a drawer and checked the list of materials I’d brought from the royal palace. Obsidian powder. Azurite catalyst. High-grade mana stone fragments. There were plenty of expensive, high-quality materials. But none of them suited Yoo Hamin’s glove. They were too strong. If I engraved a circuit with those, the glove wouldn’t assist the hand—it would dominate it.
What I needed wasn’t material for royal magic tools. I needed a circuit that was gentle enough not to ruin a student’s wrist, yet tough enough to endure at least one duel.
I put on my coat. The shopping district in front of the academy catered to students. Swords, staves, robes, catalysts, potions, textbooks, snacks—pretty much anything could be found there. Even the cheap materials that weren’t in the royal warehouse might be available in that place.
-Ding.
Magic Clothing Shop
It still felt awkward to see the name. But it’s not bad.
I headed toward the shopping district. To find materials for my first customer.