Chapter 10:
Bills and Flames
“WHAT? When you imbued the mana tool with mana, it just blew up…? Are you an idiot?” Mr. Chotos looked at me with exasperation. “Ugh…”
This man really didn’t pull his verbal punches. Yet I could say nothing in my defense. “Ack… I-I’m completely in the wrong. I’ll pay for the broken mana tool.”
“Nah, no need to pay for what wasn’t selling. It’s just…I’ve been in this business for a long time, and this is the first time I’ve heard of someone making a mana tool explode,” Mr. Chotos continued with a puzzled look. “Surely it wasn’t a defective product? I always inspect and test my goods, so I don’t think I could have missed such a dramatic problem, but…”
It was a bit after the exploding-mana-tool terrorist attack, and I had meekly apologized to Mr. Chotos when
he came back to the shop—as was my responsibility, being the terrorist in question. The only witnesses had been Gol and Teru, so I could have spun some tale, but as a man of culture, my pride was on the line. I couldn’t be a coward.
Anyway, aside from the obliteration of the mana tool, the shop was mostly undamaged. That probably had to do with the nature of the destruction, which had been something like a burst of internal pressure rather than detonation. Even the hand with which I had held the now ex-mana-tool was completely unscathed.
However, there had been a casualty. Immediately after the explosion, Gol worriedly stroked my hand, then abruptly attempted to smash the shop shelf on which the die had sat to smithereens. I was more flustered about that.
Please stop, Gol. If you break anything more, I’ll go broke from all the compensation.
I had rushed to hold her back, but it had been right on the wire…
At any rate, the silver lining was that the shock of the explosion didn’t make Teru cry. She merely blinked her little eyes in surprise before jumping around in excitement. Despite her frail appearance, Teru was a mentally sturdy child.
Hm? Wait a sec.
Returning to the topic at hand, given what Mr. Chotos had just said…was it so rare for a mana tool to explode that he questioned the quality of a good he normally wouldn’t doubt? And here I’d thought the explosion was a normal consequence of an amateur’s mishandling.
When I asked about it, Mr. Chotos frowned. “Look here… If there was any risk of it exploding just because you used it incorrectly, it couldn’t be sold as a common product, right?” Mr. Chotos pointed at the shelf of goods. “If you like, try any of the other tools. None of them will explode.”
“Eh?” I hesitated. Frankly speaking, the exploding mana tool had been somewhat triggering. However, if I didn’t work to overcome my developing trauma, I would be too scared to use mana tools for the rest of my life.
Did I have no other choice?
“You sure, mister? Are you really sure? Hey, you can’t blame me for whatever happens next, okay? If it explodes, I’m definitely not paying you for it. And if you lose any more goods, you’ll be careening toward poverty. You get that, right?”
“You’re way too scared. Every tool on this shelf is safe enough for a child to handle. Here, I’ve got you, so hurry up and do it.”
Mr. Chotos grabbed a round, white mana tool and placed it in my hand. It was the same white ball the renowned expert Little Girl-senpai had used to demonstrate the underlying principles of mana tools to her amateurish older friend.
“Argh, fine. I’ll do it. I’ll do it!” Newly resolved, I imbued the white ball in my hand with mana. Shining Lightning particles instantly gathered within it, and the white ball gave off a faint light.
Mr. Chotos said, “See? It didn’t explode, right?”
“Huh? It really didn’t.”
I could barely believe my ears, let alone my eyes—it didn’t explode. It…didn’t explode? It didn’t explode?! It didn’t explode! I did it! Behold, even I could use a mana tool! Amazing. It was glowing!
I cheered in sheer delight and excitedly imbued mana in the next products on the shelf, one after the other. There was a baton-shaped mana tool that produced water, a bolt-shaped mana tool that froze water, a mana tool that produced a comfortable breeze like an electric fan, etc. I tried all of them. So convenient—mana tools were amazing. And in the end, none of them exploded.
“Hey! This is amazing, mister!”
“Jeez, Nemaki. You really are like a child…” Mr. Chotos was saying some nonsense words. I didn’t know what he was talking about.
Every one of the mana tools intrigued me, but I thought the stick-shaped mana tool that produced water was most convenient. It was on sale, too, so perhaps I could buy it later.
However, while none of the tools I tried exploded, I couldn’t use every single one, either. For some, even if I imbued a ton of mana into them, they remained inert.
“Hey, Mister, this emerald trumpet-looking thing doesn’t do anything.”
“Hm? Ah, that’s a special type. Unless you have a certain level of aptitude in the appropriate attribute, you won’t be able to use it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Hmm… Do you want me to explain this to you, too?”
And thus, I received a simple lecture from Mr. Chotos about mana tools. According to him, you could for the most part classify mana tools into three types.
The first type reproduced specific spells even if you lacked aptitude for the spell’s attribute. That glowing white ball was one such example. Even someone like me, whose conversion rate for anything outside the Earth attribute was nil, could use the illumination of that tool’s Lightning spell. However, this type of tool couldn’t reproduce more complex spellcraft. At best, they could hold beginner- and elementary-level spells. I would say they were equivalent to home appliances.
The second type of mana tool strengthened and expanded on the power and range of specific spells, thereby providing support for complex spellcraft. The turquoise crystal earring Master Speria used to strengthen his Wind-attribute detection spell was of that second type. These tools were not for laymen, but for professional spellcasters. The strange emerald trumpet that didn’t respond to me was one of this type. Apparently, it strengthened a Wind-attribute communication spell that transmitted the caster’s voice across long distances, but you needed aptitude for the Wind attribute to use it—of which I had zilch.
The last type of mana tool was not represented in this shop. Mr. Chotos said these tools allowed their users to employ unique spells that they wouldn’t normally be able to use. These spells could be completely different from the ones more common mana tools produced. Furthermore, many tools of this type could no longer be manufactured, as the secrets of their creation had been lost. As such, I’d never see one in a small, family-run store like Chotos’s Mana Tool Shop.
The formal term for this third type of mana tool was “ancient mana tool,” but because of their rarity—on top of their exorbitant price—they were irrelevant to my life. Thus, I didn’t care much about them. Besides, I had nothing but bad memories of anything called some kind of “ancient.”
As I recalled the infuriating black dragon that broke Gol’s arm and made her cry, I blew into the emerald trumpet. Because it wasn’t actually an instrument, it sounded like I was blowing air through a tube.
“By the way, mister,” I said.
“Hm? What?”
I picked up a brown die from the shelf and held it up for Mr. Chotos to see. It was the only kind of mana tool that no one seemed to want to buy. “This cube is the same as the one that exploded before. What kind of tool is it?”
“Ah, right. That’s, you know, the Earth spell that creates a simple outdoor privy. Since that spell requires the caster to continually supply mana while the privy is in use, it’s an absolute pain, right? That mana tool helps manage the process. Though, well, as you can see, it’s not very popular.”
“Eh…?”
I knew that spell. It was the spell in the introductory book to create an outdoor toilet. I believed its formal name was Create Privy.
But you’re joking, right? Is the spell that unpopular?
Create Privy erected four thin walls of dirt to conceal an outdoor toilet, which it also generated, and once one’s business was complete, it collapsed and buried itself. It was a top-notch sanitary spell. A hygienic man such as myself considered it the strongest, most god-tier spell among Earth spells.
Although, when I cast it, I hardly expended any meaningful amount of energy. But Mr. Chotos made that sound like a difficult task for ordinary casters. Even though it was a truly wonderful spell, it was treated as garbage… How depressing.
In my mind, I gently stroked the page on Create Privy in the now lost Introduction to Spellcasting IV.
It’s fine. You don’t have to worry about what others say. I understand how good and precious you are.
I had read Introduction to Spellcrafting IV in the basin after I was summoned. I thought back on my lost days with my gentle lady-teacher (I hoped), the author Emerly Heilem.
What about the co-author Luvel Zairein, you ask? Well, I’ve never heard of that jerk before.
Unthinking, I casually imbued the die in my hand with mana. Faintly glowing Earth particles slowly gathered around this fabulous tool…
Could you believe it once again swelled like a mochi and burst into pieces?
The shards scattered through the shop like miniature fireworks, round two.
“Why? Why did it…?” I stood still in the middle of the ruins of the mana tool, on the verge of tears. “Sorry. I’ll pay for it…”
Gol tenderly stroked my hand as I stood there, grief-stricken. After ministering to my knuckles for some time, Gol drifted away, seemingly reassured I was uninjured. My partner was a good and gentle soul. From the bottom of my heart, I was grateful for her kindness.
That wasn’t the end of it, however. Seconds later, Gol released a wave of violent bloodlust targeted at the dice on the shelf to my right.