SHC23__C23._The Joys of Labor

23. The Joys of Labor

So this is what people mean when they say, “like a pigeon hit by a peashooter.”

I blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. I stared at Mr. Romanov, who was smiling cheerfully.

“Huh?”

It slipped out of my mouth like a fool's breath.

He said it so casually, like saying, “Snacks for the field trip can only cost up to 300 yen!”—but he was talking about giving me an allowance.

But wait. That 300 yen—whose wallet is it coming from?

As I sank into confused contemplation, Mr. Romanov poked my cheek. Poke, poke.

Is he just really into squishy things? Any chance he gets, he grabs my ridiculously pudgy cheeks.

But more importantly—if it’s an allowance, that means money. And there are only three ways to get money: receive it, steal it, or earn it.

“Umm… Is there a job I can do?”

“Normally, no. Not for a noble child.”

“Right… of course.”

If I were the child of a farmer, merchant, or craftsman, I might be able to help with the family business and earn a little pocket money. But that assumes the family has money to spare and a business to begin with.

I’m just a noble kid. No business. No income.

Honestly, I’m probably contributing the least to society or civilization in general.

So then what do I do?

“Normally, no… but you are a special case, Agaha.”

“Huh?”

“What kind of skills do you have again?”

My blank look must’ve been amazing, because Mr. Romanov tilted his head like a teacher explaining to a reticent student.

“You have ‘Blue Hand.’ That’s basically the holy grail for tailors and craftsmen. It would be a serious offense to not utilize it.

“Oh… the ‘Blue Hand’ skill…”

“You’re still not getting it, huh? Let me jog your memory—remember when I told you about spatial magic?”

“Yeah, um… let’s see…”

I recalled spatial magic involves calling on the four great spirits, and it takes a huge amount of mana. It’s super rare but really useful.

“Correct. That’s spatial magic in a nutshell. But that’s not what I’m talking about.”

“Uh… then what?”

“Do you remember the price for the enchantment I put on your waist pouch to make it a magic box?”

“Oh yeah, it was the ten elf-patterned condors I embroidered onto your cloak and a handkerchief I stitched…”

Wait a second.

Didn’t he say something kind of… surprising back then?

It’s on the tip of my tongue… Gah, I can’t quite grab it. I squirmed with frustration until Mr. Romanov smiled with a knowing “hmph.”

“I told you—my spatial magic enchantment and your embroidery were a fair trade. Remember why?”

“Uhhh… oh! OH!”

Right! Spirits that respond to magic calls apparently prefer items created by individuals with skills such as "Blue Hand" or "Green Hand." If you carry those items, the spirits will randomly boost your magic!

Suddenly, the metaphorical splinter in my throat came loose.

But… what does that have to do with earning money?

Still confused, I stared at Mr. Romanov as he pulled out the butterfly-embroidered handkerchief I had given him as payment.

“Because these items affect not just casting magic, but also receiving it. They reduce damage and boost healing when the user is affected by magic.”

“Oh… I see. But how does that help me earn a living?”

“You still don’t get it? You really underestimate yourself.”

Hey, I know exactly how over-padded and white-piglet I am, thank you very much.

“Items that boost magic or reduce magical damage sell for a lot. ‘Blue Hand’ is usually a skill only veteran artisans ever attain. That makes anything they create rare and expensive. Makes sense, right?”

“…Well, I can’t speak for the skill itself, but yeah—mastercrafted stuff is always expensive.”

“Blue Hand” is supposed to be impossible for a five-year-old to have.

So I guess that means the embroidery and sewing skills from my previous life were really advanced.

Still—how does that become a business?

I tilted my head. Mr. Romanov pointed to the pile of handkerchiefs and fabrics stacked in the corner of the room.

He’d bought me tons of sewing materials as a reward for awakening my magical abilities.

“Those handkerchiefs—can you embroider elf-patterned condors on five of them, one on each corner?”

“Um… by the morning after tomorrow?”

“As long as you don’t push yourself or get sick again, that timing is fine. Once you finish, I’ll take you somewhere.”

“Somewhere…?”

“Yes. I’ve been meaning to take you for a while, but I think we can move it up a little.”

Where could that be?

Actually, come to think of it—Mr. Romanov really has this long-term educational plan for me.

Like when he said my mana nerves would take a year to settle or that he had places lined up for me to go for learning. He’s been carefully guiding me all this time.

“Um… Thank you, Mr. Romanov. Really.”

“What’s this, so sudden?”

“You’ve always been planning ahead—even knowing it’d take a year for my magic channels to stabilize. You’ve thought about where to take me and what to teach… and you’re just a volunteer tutor.”

“Mmm? Oh, that.”

He scratched his chin and smiled.

“Elves live for two thousand years at the very least. Spending five or ten years tutoring you isn’t much different from adventuring or sleeping through a decade.”

“Still. I want to be the kind of student you don’t regret spending those years on. So thank you.”

“No need for thanks. I wouldn’t mind spending a hundred years on you.”

He grinned with a big wink—bam!—but like, a hundred years? Come on now.

“Sensei, I may be a bit dim, but I’m not that dim. There’s no way I’ll still be a dumpling-headed kid in a century.”

“Haha, no, that’s not what I meant…”

As I spoke, I felt my own brows droop in embarrassment. Mr. Romanov blinked, surprised.

So what did he mean, then?

I hesitated, not sure if I should push for an answer. But then he waved it off with a chuckle.

“Well—someday, you’ll understand.”

And just like that, the conversation ended.

Eunie: Thanks for reading!! I'll try to release more chapters so we can at least get on the same page us the anime.

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