Chapter 57 : Chapter 57

Chapter 57. Vigilance

A reception area of a magical craftsmen’s association.

“Sorry, but our orders are already scheduled three months in advance. If you do not choose the expedited option, we cannot deliver within the deadline you requested.”

The receptionist smiled at the apprentice who had come to place an order. Every word of his speech subtly implied the same thing: pay more.

His words immediately darkened the apprentice’s expression, while the people waiting in line behind him erupted in complaints.

“What? Why are the orders full again? I have already visited three associations today!”

“Damn it, I have been at the academy for five years, and this is the first time I have seen so many associations with full order queues!”

“It is that damned dagger order again. Which lunatic is throwing money around to mass-produce daggers that any blacksmith could make?”

“The expedited option costs twice as much. That person deserves to die! If I ever find out who keeps ordering piles of daggers every day—”

...

The apprentice at the very front of the line had a livid expression. His fingers moved restlessly across the table as he hesitated over whether to choose the expedited option.

The receptionist maintained his radiant smile. Recently, the explosion in orders had even brought benefits to someone like him.

Setting aside the enormous orders already scheduled months ahead, which carried extremely high profits, their only problem was production speed. If they could work faster, they would gladly accept every single dagger order.

Secondly, the customers who had originally come with their own needs often found themselves forced to pay extra for an “expedited order” when they saw how crowded the order queue had become.

The surge in orders had already earned the receptionist a generous commission. As for the magical craftsmen themselves, they were putting every ounce of their strength into forging daggers.

If you did not pay extra, you could forget about having your order made. Even if you were willing to schedule it several months later.

Those magical craftsmen could easily “reconsider” your order. As long as new dagger orders kept arriving afterward, your deadline would inevitably be pushed further and further back.

High pay, simple production, cheap and durable materials, and little risk of material loss. These past few days had been a paradise for the magical craftsmen.

The apprentice at the front sighed. His emotions were urging him to place the order immediately and choose the expedited option.

But his rational mind—and the few silver coins remaining in his pocket—told him the truth.

He simply did not have the money.

In the end, he could only turn around and walk away without another word, allowing the next person to step forward.

The receptionist continued smiling and greeted the next customer.

“Hello. What kind of order would you like to place? Just a reminder—our orders are already scheduled far into the future. Without the expedited option, it will be difficult to receive the finished product anytime soon.”

The apprentice who stepped forward hesitated for a moment, shook his head, and eventually left as well.

Once he walked away, it set an example. Quite a few people in the line lost their resolve and followed him out the door.

The receptionist showed no reaction at all.

For him, the days of begging customers to place orders were long gone.

Now their orders were overflowing. If you were unwilling to pay more, then do not even think about placing an order here.

As long as they secured even one more expedited order in a day, their association would earn additional profit.

The receptionist continued smiling and said to the next person,

“Hello—”

“I would like to place an expedited order. I would also like to purchase some materials.”

The one who spoke was Fran. After hearing the complaints in the line, she could not help but show an awkward smile. She walked to the front of the line and interrupted the receptionist’s greeting.

The receptionist’s eyes lit up.

Another expedited order. That meant another round of profit.

And their association also sold materials. That news delighted him even more. The materials that had been sitting unused in the warehouse could finally be sold.

The receptionist accepted a blueprint.

On the paper was a large wheel, many strange joints, and several oddly shaped connecting rods.

The receptionist was no longer surprised by such things. Although he could not imagine what the device was supposed to do, this was perfectly normal. Most people who commissioned them were creating experimental prototypes.

It was not unusual for the finished product to be completely useless. Their job was simply to craft whatever appeared on the blueprint.

“Two crates of coal, three crates of refined mountain copper, and five crates of refined iron.”

Fran handed part of the work to the association while she reserved the most important component for herself—the cylinder.

The cylinder had to maintain a certain level of airtightness in order to transmit steam. It also needed space for the piston and a properly constructed air valve.

Fran decided to make those parts herself.

She was worried that she might have written an incorrect parameter somewhere on the blueprint, which would waste all the work if someone else produced it incorrectly.

Even now she was not entirely confident.

She had drawn the blueprint purely from memory and was not sure whether there were any mistakes.

Still, she believed she had already mastered the art of casting. Fabricating a few components should be completely within her abilities.

“Hello. The total comes to one gold coin and fifty-seven silver coins.”

Fran casually took two gold coins out of her pocket and said,

“Add three more crates of mountain copper and refined iron. Convert the rest into coal. Do not bother returning the extra change.”

The receptionist was thrilled.

He accepted the two gold coins, his hands trembling slightly as he rubbed them to confirm their authenticity. After confirming they were real, he quickly began recording the transaction.

What a major client!

He felt this customer was almost comparable to the mysterious person who kept placing those dagger orders.

After arranging for someone to deliver the materials to her residence, Fran turned to leave.

But a conversation between two people at the very end of the line caught her attention.

“Have you heard? Something big happened in the Alteration School!”

“What—what happened?!”

“They found the corpse of a high-tier apprentice who went missing a long time ago. It was buried underground and recently dug up.”

Fran stopped abruptly when she heard that. She pricked up her ears and carefully listened to the news that was once again connected to her.

“Apparently it was Richter. He died and was buried there.”

“Seriously? Him? Good riddance... Did they find out who killed him? I remember he had plenty of enemies.”

“The mentors of the school all went to the scene, but they could not find any clues at all. Now they are investigating along another lead.”

“Tell me more.”

“It seems that the land where the body was buried had been compacted by the Construction School. By the time the corpse was found, it had already been crushed into fragments. Now they are trying to trace who placed the construction order for that land.”

“Those guys from the Construction School are really unlucky. I bet those poor fellows knew nothing and still got dragged in for interrogation. Thank goodness I did not choose the Construction School back then. That path is miserable...”

Fran’s lips twitched slightly.

Her mood sank straight to the bottom.

How had the body been discovered?

Before she decided to act, she had investigated extensively. She knew that once the corpse was crushed into fragments like that, very few magical methods could still locate it.

Had Richter informed someone before she killed him?

That seemed unlikely.

Fran could not figure it out.

She took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down.

The discovery had already become a fact. Although she was confident that ordinary methods could never trace the crime back to her, there was no guarantee that some magical method might directly identify the murderer.

She glanced at the signed receipt in her hand.

Anxiety crept into her mind.

She had to hurry.