Chapter 143
Chapter 143
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 143
Chapter Title: A Three-Way Meeting
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Before leaving the Owl.
Ian first went to say goodbye to Dolores. She was standing in front of a woman who looked like a tailor, getting her measurements taken for clothes. Fortunately, she wasn't undressed anywhere, so no embarrassing situation arose.
"I'm heading out. Let's meet again if there's a chance."
"Ah, yeah. Take care on your way back!"
Screeech.
She answered while pressing the tape measure to her waist. After confirming Dolores's exact waist measurement, the tailor turned her head toward Ian. The tailor, wearing a strangely shaped monocle, let out an exclamation of admiration.
"Hoo... Quite the fine model. The face is excellent, and the body... well, passable, I suppose."
Her tone was openly appraising. Before Ian could express his displeasure, she beat him to it.
"If you want clothes made, come find me. I'll give you the best price."
"...Suddenly?"
"A skilled tailor is always drawn to a good model. If I take photos and submit them for newspaper ads, it'll be great publicity too. No need to react so sharply."
She smirked, set down the tape measure, and snapped her fingers. The spools of thread floating in the air unraveled quickly and then regrouped into a black business card. The card, made of thread, had a soft yet firm texture.
The tailor blew on the card to imprint a seal and flicked it toward Ian. He barely managed to catch the fluttering card.
[Ebriato Poriane]
[Tailor of the Clock Tower]
The name in gold lettering sparkled under the ceiling lights. Ian glanced down at the card for a moment before turning back to the tailor.
"Strange name. Where are you from?"
"South America. Born in a rough neighborhood with bad security. Got lucky and became a mage."
"South America... Usually people from there learn voodoo or shamanism, not magic?"
"And you, an Easterner, don't use Taoist arts, do you? Pot calling the kettle black."
A perfectly irrefutable point. Ian let out a small chuckle and shoved the card into his pocket.
"I'll gratefully accept the favor. If I need something later, I'll stop by."
"Good. And the girl behind you..."
Ebriato's gaze suddenly shifted to Yuna. Yuna flinched at the unexpected look, and Ebriato quickly scanned her body.
"Hmm... That violent build would be tough to tailor for... Face is fine, though..."
"W-What?"
"Can't give you a discount. American mages don't have chests as big as yours. It'll take real work to get the fit right."
"Y-You...! That's sexual harassment...!"
Yuna shouted timidly, her face beet red. Ebriato snorted.
"Between women, what's the big deal... Fine, whatever. Girls like you come around sometimes. Take the card. With it, other tailors will happily take you too."
"M-Milk cow...!"
Yuna's mouth twitched. She instinctively clutched her chest. The flesh that couldn't be fully covered spilled over her forearms, but Ian made a point not to look her way.
"Wow. Impressive."
"What a violent thing."
Ari and Dolores didn't hold back. At their blatant exclamations, Yuna bolted out of the shop, and Ian sighed deeply while grabbing her share of the card too.
"Don't tease her too much..."
"Tease? Me?"
Ebriato tightened Dolores's corset and picked up the tape measure again.
"If you come back, decide on the enchantment you want ahead of time. Whether it's threads resistant to temperature or high-defense ones, I need to prepare and weave them in advance."
"Can't do multiple at once?"
"Impossible. Not just me— no skilled tailor can. One garment, one enchantment."
"..."
"If you're thinking coat with one spell and shirt with another, forget it. Layering enchanted clothes cancels both out. Like same-pole magnets repelling—the magics clash and fizzle."
"Noted."
Ian nodded readily. Ebriato grinned and pressed the tape to Dolores's hips.
Back to work. Ian exchanged quick glances with Ari and Dolores before stepping out.
Yuna, crouched against the wall, looked up at him.
"...D-Done?"
"Yeah, let's go."
"O-Okay..."
Yuna sniffled as she stood.
The two headed straight through the now-vanished foggy passage and up the stairs they'd descended. Unlike going down, ascending required no special measures, so they smoothly entered the used bookstore.
The owner, Eric, sat reading the original Moby-Dick. He didn't even glance at Ian and Yuna. They didn't speak to him either—just quietly left the shop.
It was still afternoon, just past noon. As Ian emerged from the alley into the pouring sunlight, he squinted and spoke.
"Planning to head to Grandmother's. Want to come? Or should I drop you home?"
"L-Let's go together. I've been curious about this Grandmother person..."
"Sure. Already got permission, so we can just show up."
Ian took Yuna to his place first. He dropped off unnecessary luggage and packed only items to pass to Eunha into his bag. The lighter load eased his shoulders.
Out of the house, he started the bike in the parking lot. With a low rumble, the dashboard lit up. He handed Yuna a spare helmet he'd prepared.
"Not sure if the size fits, but try it. It's unused, so no smell."
"N-No, the smell... Actually... Uh, um..."
Yuna muttered softly and struggled to put on the helmet. Ian checked the fit and fastened the strap.
"Good, won't come off. Step here and sit. Hands... just relax. No accidents anyway."
"O-Okay..."
Yuna nodded. Ian tapped her helmet with a smile, donned his own, and sat first. Yuna swallowed hard nervously and gingerly settled her hips behind him. The bike dipped under her solid weight.
"Heeeek...!"
She let out a weird noise and clamped her arms around Ian's waist. Their bodies pressed together inevitably, but Ian ignored it and kicked out the stand.
"Here we go. Hold tight."
"O-Okay...! Eek! Hieeek!"
Vrooom!
The bike pulled out of the lot onto the road. At the faster-than-expected speed, Yuna squeezed her eyes shut and screamed.
"Only 30 km/h yet...?"
"Whiii! Eeeek!"
"...Hmm."
Ian grunted and lowered his helmet shield.
*
Grandmother's house wasn't far from Ian's. They arrived in under 30 minutes.
"Heek...! Heek...!"
Eunha's apartment parking lot.
Yuna dismounted, gasping and legs wobbling. Ian locked the bike handle with practiced ease and chuckled dryly.
"Didn't even go that fast..."
"L-Liar, hah, total lie! H-Hit at least 100 km/h...!"
"Didn't pass 50. Kept it in first gear the whole time."
"For real...?"
Ian waited in the lot until Yuna calmed, then they took the elevator. Yuna grumbled, thumping her lower back.
"N-Never riding a bike again... Cars for me..."
"You have your own?"
"N-No license...?"
"..."
Ding.
The elevator reached their floor mid-conversation. The heavy metal door slid open, and Ian walked the hall to knock on Eunha's door.
Moments later, a soft voice came from the intercom.
[Who is it... Oh, Ian. Hold on. Opening now.]
"Yes. Take your time."
As he spoke, bare feet pattering came from beyond the door. Ian stepped back and waited.
Click.
Less than five seconds later, the door opened smoothly. Eunha's head peeked out. Her pale black hair flowed with gravity, and her mint eyes—changed by the demon contract—reflected Ian's face perfectly.
"Come in, Ian. Second time at my place."
Eunha smiled faintly and pushed the half-open door wide.
That's when Yuna, standing behind Ian, entered Eunha's view.
"Gasp."
"..."
Their gazes clashed in the air. Yuna's pupils quivered at the unfamiliar face, while Eunha expressionlessly studied her.
"...You look surprisingly normal. Strawberry yogurt smoothie? That you?"
Eunha asked. Yuna smiled awkwardly and nodded slightly.
"Y-Yeah... Gr-Grandmother..."
"...Is what you say, but you don't talk like that in real life?"
"A-And Grandmother uses polite speech in reality too... Maybe a bit off in the head...?"
"I'm perfectly normal."
"R-Really...?"
"Yes."
"I-I see..."
"Yes."
"..."
"..."
"..."
"..."
Awkward silence weighed heavily on their shoulders. Ian, stuck between them, forced a wry smile.
Han Yuna, who got around outside fine but struggled with conversations and interactions, not valuing them much anyway.
Yu Eunha, with normal communication skills but a total shut-in who never left home unless necessary.
Their exchange, grand just from the descriptions, was awkward from the start.