Luthar sat behind the counter, gaze distant, mind immersed in the blueprint etched across his neural link. The schematic of the Compact Hyperflux Reactor Core rotated in silence, layers unfolding with precision. Lines of energy dispersion, containment shielding, and thermal thresholds scrolled past like holy script.
He blinked after a moment, filing away a dozen adjustments. The core was viable—but volatile. Stabilizing the output would demand higher-grade alloys, ones with purity levels the average forge couldn't handle. Fortunately, he could.
He shifted in his seat, the faint creak of reinforced metal echoing against the quiet of the shop.
Outside, the morning sun cast long shadows across the plaza. A group of adventurers moved with purpose, their armor still dusted from the Dungeon's third floor. Scratches lined their plates. One of them, the leader, held a plain sword—purchased here the day before. No enchantments, no divine emblem, just clean craftsmanship. But it had split a Killer Ant in a single blow.
"This still feels wrong," one muttered. "No way this thing should be that cheap."
The leader didn't answer. He studied the weapon, fingers brushing along the blade's flat. Then, with a quiet nod, he said, "We're buying more. Before the price goes up."
As they approached, the shop's door opened with a quiet hiss of pressurized hydraulics. The air inside was cooler, filtered. Luthar didn't look up immediately.
They stepped inside, boots scuffing against the clean metal floor. One of them placed the sword gently on the counter. "We want more. Same quality."
Luthar didn't speak—just pointed toward the large crate beside the wall.
They moved quickly, selecting five blades. One of them glanced toward a nearby display case and froze. Inside were weapons that looked far more advanced—sleek, razor-lined, some humming faintly with unseen energy. The price tags? Nothing under ten million valis.
The man glanced down at his own sword, then back to the crate. "This'll do," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.
The leader dropped a pouch of coins onto the counter. Luthar counted it with a single glance, nodded once, and processed the sale.
"Thanks," the leader offered as they left. The door hissed closed behind them, leaving the shop in silence again.
Luthar returned to the schematic in his mind, isolating energy leaks in the second-stage reaction loop. If he realigned the magnetic buffer rings by .03 degrees...
He paused. Footsteps echoed near the entrance.
"Working alone again, Luthar?" A familiar voice said, light but knowing.
Miach stood in the doorway, a small basket of fruit in hand. He stepped inside, offering it forward with a friendly smile.
Luthar took the basket. "You don't expect me to find a clerk in a single day."
Miach chuckled. "Well, if you want, I know plenty who need the work."
"If you know someone capable," Luthar replied, tone cool. "I don't mind hiring."
Miach leaned against a display case, arms crossed. "I can get you candidates. People who won't faint the moment that metal skull floats by."
Luthar's gaze narrowed behind his mask. "Why are you so eager to help?"
A shrug. "You helped Hestia. Helped Bell. This is me returning the favor. Partially. Also—helping someone find a job isn't a crime."
Luthar remained silent. A soft whir filled the pause as the servo-skull drifted across the ceiling.
"There's a girl," Miach continued. "Elna. Human. Nineteen. No familia. Works odd jobs in the lower districts. Quiet. Efficient. She doesn't ask questions she shouldn't—and she could use the coin."
Luthar made a thoughtful sound. The schematic slipped into the background.
"You can assess her yourself," Miach said. "Just don't scare her off with your usual charm."
Luthar gave a small nod. A servo-skull could monitor her, and she could contact him via a communicator if anything happened. He did plan to install a secure line soon.
Miach smiled, satisfied. "She'll be by later."
After the god left, Luthar lingered on the thought: Was this truly a favor being repaid—or just kindness disguised as practicality? Perhaps both.
He turned his focus back to the blueprint.
Hours passed. The sun shifted. And then—footsteps.
The door hissed open again.
A young woman stepped inside. She was lean, with unkempt brown hair tied into a loose ponytail. Her clothes were plain and worn, a mix of faded cloth and patched leather. She moved with quiet caution, eyes scanning the room. Sharp green eyes settled on him.
"Are you Elna?" Luthar asked, his voice calm and neutral.
She stiffened slightly. "Yes. I heard you needed help." Her voice was steady, if cautious.
Luthar studied her for a moment, then rose slowly. "You've worked in the lower districts?"
She nodded. "Odd jobs. Delivery. Cleaning. Some merchant stalls. I'm not picky."
Her eyes flicked up to the servo-skull hovering overhead, its crimson lenses tracking her.
"I don't have high demands," Luthar said, turning toward the shelves. "Familiarize yourself with the shop. That's your first task."
Elna looked surprised. She hesitated, then asked, "Will… there be payment?"
Luthar didn't look up. "Sixty valis a day. More for overtime or handling inventory."
Her eyes widened slightly. That was generous.
"Food's not included," he added dryly.
She nodded quickly. "Understood."
"Good. Then you start tomorrow." He paused, then pulled a few coins from beneath the counter. "Buy a chair. There's a stall across the plaza."
Elna took the coins, stunned by the simple trust.
Behind the counter, Luthar had already returned to his schematics, as if the matter was settled.