Chapter 218
Chapter 218
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 218
Chapter Title: Sparks of Reunion
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Simo said.
"I'm not a kid. I'm over thirty."
"Sure, sure."
In Simo's eyes, Owen was a good person, but he had his similarities with other tall races.
Simo was about to press further but decided to change the subject.
"What brings you to Polybia, teacher?"
"I have other business, but the main reason is to see you."
"Me?"
Owen said.
"It's only been about ten years since we last met, hasn't it? I was curious about how far your 'research' has progressed."
Simo avoided Owen's gaze.
"It's not going so well..."
"Hmm."
Owen scratched his chin and said.
"I'd like to see it for myself, if possible."
"Right here on the street?"
"Where are you living now?"
"Uh, I was staying in this building until just a bit ago."
"Not anymore?"
"Haha... yeah."
Owen said.
"Let's go to the room I'm staying in. You can tell me how you've been in the meantime."
"Then, if you'll excuse me..."
Simo had met Owen in the same street market before.
Polybia was a place where vast sums of money changed hands discreetly, and with tycoons and merchants filling the streets, there were just as many eyeing their pockets.
There were simple street robbers and beggars aplenty, but also food vendors and street magicians who had picked up rudimentary spells from who-knows-where.
What Simo had shown him were the various machines she had invented.
Strictly speaking, science and technology weren't as popular as magic.
People saw magic as mere spectacle and, since only a limited few could wield it, didn't pay it much mind.
But technology was different.
Anyone could use scientific technology.
Even if it wasn't as wondrous as magic, the fact that they themselves—and others—could utilize it drew deep interest.
Of course, Simo had initially made her machines to hype up the dubious elixirs she'd brought from home, but merchants and other tinkerers had spotted her talent and bought up her tech.
Polybia was full of street inventors like her.
But the invention she was demonstrating back then hadn't drawn much attention from the crowds.
So when a lizardman approached and started asking questions, she couldn't help but feel a sense of kinship.
"This thing isn't popular?"
"Ah, yes. I had a feeling, but it's as I thought."
"You expected it not to be?"
"Of course."
The invention Simo had made back then looked crude at first glance.
A thin tungsten rod wrapped at both ends with copper wire that trailed back to coil around an iron bar.
When she held a piece of paper to the tungsten rod, a spark flew, and the paper ignited.
"It's electricity."
Simo smiled awkwardly.
"You don't see the Empire's Chosen often, but if you go there, you might catch a glimpse from afar, and the unlucky ones meet them on the battlefield. Compared to the thunderbolts they wield with the War God's power, this electricity is... really nothing special."
Simo continued as if making excuses.
"Of course, some people showed interest. One even asked if I could make a bigger spark. I decided to call the coiled copper wire here a 'battery,' and I said if it were big enough, it might be possible. But when I gave them a rough cost estimate and explained that the battery would deplete, they just shook their heads and left. They said if it was that big, heavy, and expensive, it'd be better to just hire a Chosen somehow."
"Hmm."
Owen didn't leave despite Simo's self-deprecating words.
"Interesting."
"...Interesting?"
"It reminds me of a story a friend once told me."
"What story...?"
What Owen had said back then was about the power of electricity.
Back when Owen was with the Black Scale tribe—and even after—the Chosen used the electricity granted by the gods in limited ways.
But Jaol, Rakrak's companion, believed there was 'something more' to currents.
Owen didn't have any specific ideas himself, but he still remembered Jaol's words.
Simo said.
"...Uh, that's an intriguing thought. In my view, electricity can be generated through other forces, stored in certain objects, and even transmitted. ...Not certain yet, though. I'm not a student at any academy, so I can't access others' research, and I don't have the money to experiment on my own."
Owen said.
"If that's true, what kind of things do you think we could make? For example, gunpowder led to guns. Do you think using electricity for inventions would bring similar changes?"
Simo said shyly.
"...It'll change."
"Hm?"
"The world will change."
That day, Owen heard Simo's visions of the future.
To Owen, they seemed a bit far-fetched.
If even half of what she said came true—no, a fraction of that—the Empire's headaches like the Ronante-Oroban alliance would crumble.
Because in an age of electricity, kings, nobles, and tragic wars would lose all meaning.
Above all, electricity belonged to Yacheon.
Followers of the Pantheon might disagree, but Owen believed it.
Simo followed her parents' faith in the 'Meteor of the Red Point,' the continent's major religion, but to Owen, she seemed like a fine Yacheon devotee.
Owen had helped the pitiful non-human, Solotl, in accordance with the gods' will.
After revealing he was a Chosen, he aided her electric research and even emptied his modest savings for her.
Simo called him teacher and spent a short time with him.
She apostatized without much burden.
She felt interest in Yacheon too, but her true attachment was to the 'Wing-Folded Golden Bird.'
Both were faiths popular among technicians, but Yacheon appealed to scholarly pursuits, while the Wing-Folded Golden Bird drew inventors proper.
Before long, Owen's wanderlust pulled him away again.
He left with a promise to meet again... and today, they had reunited.
Once at Owen's lodging, Simo said awkwardly.
"Not much has changed since you left, teacher. People are stubbornly uninterested in electricity."
"Stars that haven't risen yet shine unseen, even if they're bright."
"That's a great saying, teacher!"
"So, what's the problem?"
As Owen cut straight to the point, Simo averted her eyes.
Still, her mouth opened.
"...Money, as expected."
"Money."
"I researched and refined in the direction you suggested, even hiring people to bring in similar tech or inventions from Polybia, but the money you gave me ran out fast. Without money..."
"Hmm."
Owen examined Simo's research.
She wasn't great at explaining, and as an independent scholar, she used her own terms, so Owen didn't fully grasp it, but it was in the direction he wanted.
Especially the 'light bulb'—it seemed perfect for demonstrating electricity's utility to others.
"Can't you sell these?"
"People prefer oil lamps or gaslights. They ask where you'd even use this."
"But as long as the glass doesn't break, it won't go out even if you pour water on it."
"...That's a good sales pitch. I should write it down."
Simo jotted Owen's words in her notebook.
Owen said.
"Hm, I think these inventions are fine."
"Huh? Then?"
"What's lacking is your guts."
"What does guts have to do with electricity and money?"
"Follow me."
The place Owen took Simo to was in front of a massive trading house.
The Pallet family was one of Polybia's top merchants—no one didn't know the name.
Simo turned to Owen.
"...Why here?"
"If you want money, go where the money is. Why look for it on the street haggling over pennies for skewers?"
"You're not wrong, but teacher. Wait, teacher. Hold on. Stop. Teacher...?"
Owen straightened his shoulders and strode confidently into the trading house.
An hour later, the two were chased out the door.
"Scram, you beggars!"
Things had seemed decent when they entered.
Being such a large firm, they got plenty of people like Owen pitching investments.
There was an established process, and they got to show their invention to a fairly high-ranking official.
But the person in charge was hugely disappointed upon seeing it, and once they learned Simo was a street inventor—and notoriously a quack elixir seller—they were booted out.
Simo bowed repeatedly.
"Sorry, teacher. I sold some potions to make a living..."
"Hm, not your fault. Everyone's just trying to survive. And even if they're not healthy, at least they're not harmful. If people believe they're good and drink them, maybe they're not fake after all."
"...What now?"
Owen said.
"I misjudged. Time to change tactics."
"...Tactics?"
"Simo, how about this."
Owen leaned in and whispered to her.
She staggered upon hearing it.
"Teacher! That's actual fraud!"
"You sold quack meds—what's the difference?"
"If we get caught, it's not just jail!"
Owen had never been imprisoned, so the worry didn't quite land.
"Then let's hurry."
Owen headed to the next trading house.
It was the Itimo Company.
Founded by the famous elf merchant Tione Itimo, even as a branch, its Polybia building was the city's second largest.
But only Simo entered through the front door.
Owen slipped in through a window unseen.
Simo spotted him and sighed, but Owen gripped the window sill expertly and moved inside without a sound.
Like at Pallet's, there was a process in place, so Simo waited in the lounge and met the person in charge.
The elf handler said.
"What item have you brought?"
Simo said.
"Ahem, not sure what to call it exactly. Something very mysterious... and dangerous."
"A weapon?"
"Not just destructive. It's brimming with possibilities that could change the world."
"...Well, better take a look."
Simo pulled out the device.
It was the very invention Owen had first seen over ten years ago. She'd improved to sleeker batteries since, but kept this one as a memento. Simo rarely threw things away.
Putting on gloves, Simo said.
"It's a power-emitting device, but no set use yet. Gotta handle it with extreme care."
"Yes, yes."
The handler seemed bored.
With so many street inventors, fakes were common.
Simo raised the invention high.
-KABOOM!
Crackling currents swirled around the device, scorching the air hot.
The handler, who had toppled backward in shock, sprang up muttering.
"...G-Good lord. This can't be real."
It was only natural.
Owen, hidden in the ceiling corner, was channeling a Chosen's power into the invention Simo had lifted.