Side: Shinaguru

What should I do now?

How was I supposed to make a living?

I couldn’t imagine a future where a skill that only sharpened my hearing would ever make me successful.

For now, I’d head to the Adventurers’ Guild.

Maybe I’d find some kind of request there.

There were everyday jobs too.

I’d finally gotten used to the intimidating adventurers at the guild.

That alone was proof I’d grown.

I looked over the request board and picked up a medicinal herb gathering request.

When I brought it to the reception desk—

“I’m afraid you can’t accept this request.”

“It’s intended for beginners.”

“You already know that, as a C-Rank adventurer, you’re ineligible.”

“Also, we’ve received a report from Violetti claiming that you’ve been leeching off your party.”

“I haven’t.”

“Then you’ll have to prove it in a combat examination.”

“Uh…”

This was bad.

Leeching was something nobles were notorious for.

They’d let others weaken monsters before stepping in for the finishing blow.

Even something as simple as throwing stones to provoke a monster counted as leeching.

Both actions still earned a small amount of experience.

Most people who relied on leeching had little or no combat ability.

Even healers would throw themselves into battle or use excessive healing offensively to contribute.

“What’s the matter?”

“I can’t fight.”

“So you’re admitting to leeching.”

“We’ll be confiscating your guild card.”

“You can have it back once you’ve reached an appropriate level of combat ability.”

“I see.”

“Here.”

I handed over my guild card.

Damn it.

What was I supposed to do now?

I wandered the streets aimlessly.

Then something displayed in a shop caught my eye.

It had two magic stones embedded in it.

So it was a magic tool.

I’d never really examined one up close before.

Magic tools were treasures back in my village.

Only the village chief owned any.

I’d never even seen one in person.

Even after becoming an adventurer, we’d relied on flint and water flasks at first.

Once our party gained more magic users, they handled fire and water with spells.

I’d only ever seen other parties using magic tools from a distance.

“Interested, kid?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“Especially that magic stone with all the lines running through it.”

A magic tool contained two magic stones.

One of them was covered in several thin lines.

“The one with the lines is called the Core Stone.”

“The one without them is the Storage Stone.”

“The prevailing theory is that spells are engraved inside the Core Stone.”

“But no one’s ever proven it.”

“Why not?”

“Because no one alive knows how to make Core Stones.”

“The technique has been lost.”

“Nowadays, the main place to find them is inside dungeons.”

“I’ve never been inside a dungeon.”

“That’s normal.”

“Even the cheapest Core Stone costs at least one gold coin.”

“And the death rate inside dungeons is high.”

“None of my old party members ever wanted to talk about dungeons.”

“That’s the usual reaction.”

“So those lines inside the Core Stone are the spells?”

“No.”

“Those are scratches.”

“Every ten uses or so, another line appears.”

“The more scratches it has, the greater the chance it’ll break.”

“I see.”

“So the fewer lines it has, the more valuable it is.”

“Exactly.”

“That’s why the ones displayed out front are heavily scratched.”

“If someone steals one, I won’t lose much.”

“Here.”

“Give it a try.”

For some reason…

It felt as though the magic tool was calling out to me.

‘Listen to me.’

“【Listening】”

I activated my skill and used the magic tool.

‘Chiro, chiro♪ Mera, mera, chiro♪ Mera, chiro♪ Chiro, chiro♪ Mera♪ Chiro, chiro♪ Mera, mera, mera♪ Mera, chiro♪’

A cheerful song echoed through my ears.

Then flames burst from the magic tool.

“That’s such an uplifting song.”

“…Kid.”

“Can you actually hear a magic tool’s voice?”

“You’re joking, right?”

“Or speaking metaphorically?”

How should I answer?

I decided to tell him the truth.

“I heard it singing.”

“You’ve been through some hard times, haven’t you?”

“I have.”

“But I’m not crazy.”

“…Yeah.”

“I believe you.”

He placed both hands on my shoulders as he spoke.

“Wait…”

“Hmm.”

“So a skill like that really exists.”

“Then try this one.”

The shopkeeper acted as if he’d already made up his mind.

He handed me another magic tool.

This time, no flames appeared.

‘Chiro, chiro♪ Mera, mera, chiro♪ Ziii… Chiro♪ Chiro, chiro♪ Mera♪ Chiro, chiro♪ Mera, mera, mera♪ Mera, chiro♪’

“There’s some static mixed into one part.”

“Oh?”

“So you can tell where it’s broken.”

“Anyone could tell it was faulty after using it.”

“But identifying the exact point of failure is another matter.”

“Interesting.”

“How about becoming my apprentice?”

“I actually don’t have anywhere else to go.”

“Perfect.”

“There’s an empty room upstairs.”

“You can use it however you like.”

“Thank you…”

“Master.”

“Haha.”

“That’s the spirit, apprentice.”

“What’s your name?”

“I’m Myst.”

“I’m Shinaguru.”

“Good.”

“First, clean your room.”

“Then clean the shop.”

“Yes, Master.”

Master was a good man.

I didn’t know whether he truly believed I could hear the songs of magic tools…

Or if he simply thought I’d lost my mind.

Either way, he was definitely a kind person.

For the time being, I listened carefully to the songs of the magic tools and wrote them down.

I couldn’t experiment with merchandise that was still for sale, so I focused on broken magic tools instead.

Even when they were damaged, I could still vaguely make out their original songs.

I also realized that different songs corresponded to different functions.

The songs were the spells that defined a magic tool’s function.

Day after day, I found myself soothed by the songs of broken magic tools.

That became my new life.

Working in a magic tool shop was surprisingly simple.

The main jobs were replacing Core Stones, Storage Stones, and conductive wires.

Storage Stones also wore out over time.

Everyone knew their purpose was to store mana.

Using a larger magic stone increased a tool’s power.

Using a smaller one reduced it.

They also served as a way to adjust output.

There was a little trick, though.

If you only supplied half your mana, the tool would only produce half its normal power.

In other words, a larger stone could always do the job of a smaller one.

The conductive wire acted as the path through which mana flowed.

The thicker the wire, the shorter the duration.

The thinner it was, the longer the effect lasted.

Of course, wires could snap too.

When that happened, you simply replaced them.

Every time a magic tool was used, all of its stored mana was consumed.

That was one reason offensive magic tools weren’t very popular.

Another was that you never knew when one might fail.

If it broke at the crucial moment, your attack would completely miss.

Unless you were unimaginably wealthy.

Then you could simply carry several magic tools.

As for Core Stones, I noticed something else.

The smaller the Core Stone, the faster it seemed to deteriorate.

The reason was fairly easy to imagine.

Whether a scratch landed on a critical part was a matter of chance.

But the odds of hitting a floating ping-pong ball in the ocean with a thrown stone were very different from hitting one floating in a bathtub.

I mastered the fundamentals of running a magic tool shop in just ten days.

Even so, I had no intention of leaving Master’s side.

I didn’t have the money to open a shop of my own.

And I still hadn’t repaid the kindness he’d shown me.

If only I could uncover more of the Core Stone’s secrets…

Then maybe I’d finally be able to repay that debt.