"Yo, is Steve here already?" I asked the receptionist, leaning lazily against the polished wooden counter. My tail swayed back and forth in a casual rhythm, betraying the energy buzzing under my skin.
"Yes, the young man is in his office at the back, Miss Draig." The receptionist nodded at me, her crisp tone professional, though her eyes flickered with that same mix of wariness and forced politeness I had grown used to seeing whenever my surname was mentioned.
"Wait a minute, I was here first."
The voice came from off to the side, gruff and indignant. I turned my head, ears twitching slightly as I caught sight of the dwarf who had spoken. His stocky frame and broad shoulders were no surprise—most dwarves carried their bodies like walking anvils—but what caught my attention was the familiar set of his jaw and the glint of steel in his eyes.
"Do you have a brother?" I asked thoughtfully, narrowing my eyes at him. The resemblance tugged at my memory; he looked a lot like the dwarf I had dealt with just yesterday.
"Yes, I have. He was arrested yesterday for some crime the Draig family made up." The dwarf's lips curled back in a snarl, and his words came out more like accusations than answers. His glare fixed on me, sharp and unflinching. "That's right, she said your surname is Draig. What have you done to my brother?"
His tone was thick with venom, the kind that came from someone convinced of their truth before hearing any other side.
"Hmm, he never said he had a brother." I tilted my head slightly, my tone dismissive. "Whatever, I am not usually the one that handles it. Go talk to the Black Ops if you want information on what your brother actually did." I waved him off with a flick of my wrist, not even bothering to hold his gaze for long.
"They said he was working for the Federation!" The dwarf roared, his voice echoing through the reception hall. His anger was a storm breaking loose in public, and people nearby began glancing nervously at us.
"He was," I said flatly, already walking away, my back to him. I reached the heavy wooden door leading to the back offices and pushed it open, slipping inside and shutting it firmly behind me.
"Like hell, he was. He was working for me!" His voice thundered behind the door, muffled but still filled with fury.
"I am not allowed to talk about it," I muttered under my breath, repeating Kayda's words like a mantra. It was easier to recite someone else's logic than get lost in the tangled web of politics I had no desire to unravel.
"Are you going crazy or something? Talking to yourself like that."
The sudden interruption made me blink. I glanced to my left, and sure enough, another dwarf was standing there, arms crossed, brow furrowed as he looked me up and down like I was some kind of puzzle missing half its pieces.
I stared at him for a long second, deciding whether he was worth the effort of a reply. Then, deciding against it, I simply turned away and continued down the hall.
"He didn't even say anything," the dwarf grunted, shaking his head as he stomped off in the opposite direction.
'Dwarfs are weird,' I thought. They always had this strange way of blending together in my mind. Their faces were similar enough that if you didn't know them, you could mistake one for another easily. It was the same phenomenon humans had with race—they said all Asians or all white people looked alike until they actually lived among them long enough to see the nuances. I supposed it was the same with dwarfs.
"Ah, here it is." I stopped in front of a familiar door. Raising my hand, I knocked twice, the sound echoing softly against the wood.
"Come in," Steve's voice rumbled from the other side.
I pushed the door open and stepped inside.
"Huh, Kitsuna, you knock on doors?" Steve looked at me from behind his desk, brows raised in genuine surprise. Steve rested his large hands on a stack of papers, his full attention fixed on me.
"... "
"... "
"Why wouldn't I knock on doors?" I asked, tilting my head in confusion.
"I don't know. It's just how I thought you were." He shrugged, leaning back slightly in his chair, his eyes narrowing in faint amusement.
"And that is?"
"Rude."
I let out a small laugh, shrugging. "Can't blame you."
Steve smirked, then leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. "So, what can I do for you today?"
"Well, I win the bet." I puffed my chest out proudly, letting the smugness drip from my voice.
"... It's been like four days, Kitsuna."
"Five days," I corrected immediately, wagging my finger at him. "It was a breeze to figure out how to strengthen the mana. The challenging part was to find out what I needed to work with."
His eyes sharpened. "Your internal mental mana, you mean."
"Yes, that is the challenging part. Internal mental mana, IMM. I like it." I snapped my fingers, liking the sound of the abbreviation.
"Hmm, show me," Steve said, leaning back again, his tone skeptical.
"Okay," I said, pulling a block of Adamite from my pocket space. I balanced it in my hand, preparing to demonstrate.
"Wait, use this one. I want to make sure you don't use some trick or anything." Steve rummaged behind his desk and pulled out a fresh block of Adamite, holding it out.
"I can respect that," I said, smirking. I extended an invisible mana string and tugged. The Adamite flew into my hand, and with a subtle flick, I cut it into six clean, even pieces.
"What!?" Steve exclaimed, eyes widening as he shot out of his chair.
"Is that good enough?" I asked casually, tossing the pieces onto his desk with a clatter.
"Invisible mana strings? You trying to be the best assassin or something?" His voice was a mixture of sarcasm and wonder.
"That's not a bad thought, but I'm not excellent at stealth," I joked, shrugging.
"Yes, I heard you found some backstabbing blacksmith working with the Federation."
"Yes, I did catch him yesterday. That reminds me, look at this for me." I reached into my bag and pulled out a rough piece of armor, still unfinished and crude in design.
"What is this crap you're showing me?" Steve asked, not even bothering to get up, his eyes narrowing at the sight.
"Haha, as expected from a trained eye. You don't even need a proper look to know this is trash. Well, the item is a piece of armor made by the traitor." I tossed it onto his table.
"Bye, grumpy pants," Steve muttered, raising a brow at the warped metal.
"By the way, his so-called brother was at the front just now," I added, jerking my thumb toward the door behind me.
"What the hell does he want?" Steve groaned, rubbing his forehead.
"Don't know. Your problem, not mine."
"Ugh, okay, let's get you started then," Steve said, finally pushing himself to his feet.
"Where are we going?" I asked, excitement bubbling in my voice.
"Where do you think we're going? To a bar?" He gave me a look that screamed disbelief.
"With dwarfs, you never know," I shot back, raising an eyebrow.
"Touché. We're going to the furnaces," Steve said, chuckling.
"Oh, so you're going to start teaching me?" I asked, hitting my fists together with a grin.
"I am not going to teach you the basics of forging. I have someone who will teach you the basics. Steve explained, instantly deflating my enthusiasm, "After that, you'll be making some weapons that we'll hold in the shop."
"What exactly do you want me to do now?" I muttered, disappointment dripping from my voice.
"You're going to start making weapons, of course," Steve said, grinning at my misery.
"Why?" I asked, my ears drooping slightly.
"Huh, why? Can you be useful if we make the demigod weapon right now?" He looked at me like I'd asked if fire was hot.
"Uh, no, but I can at least learn better from you?" I reluctantly admitted this while recalling the dense and confusing smithing books I had attempted to study.
"I only have that much time to spend on you, fox." He gestured at the mountain of paperwork on his desk.
"That's true, I guess," I sighed, glancing at the mess.
"No shit, you dumb fox," Steve said with a smirk.
My eyes narrowed dangerously. "You don't call me that."
"Whatever, let's go. Allow me to introduce you to the second in command. He will teach you from the start." Steve looked away, a hint of nervousness in his tone.
"Ugh, alright."
"Here we go, Stan!" Steve shouted.
"Yes, what is it now?" A dwarf walked over, his expression already annoyed.
"Hmm, is he your son?" I asked, eyeing Stan, who looked uncannily like Steve.
"Pfft, hahaha! Do I look that young, or does he look that old?" Steve barked out, clearly insulted.
"Both, I guess?" I said honestly, tilting my head.
"Hahaha!" Stan slapped Steve's shoulder, laughing like a maniac.
"He is my brother, little Kitsuna," Steve said, voice dripping with depression.
"Ah, is that so? My bad. Good to meet you, teacher." I extended my hand to Stan.
"Teach? Brother, what does she mean by that?" Stan asked, frowning at Steve.
"Ugh, she is my disciple, not yours, but you need to teach her the basics, please."
"You took on a disciple that doesn't even know the basics?"
"She can use IMM."
"IMM?" Stan repeated, brows furrowing.
"Internal mental mana," I clarified proudly.
"Quite the shitty name, but it fits, I guess," Stan said, shrugging.
"Well, it's better than true mana," I shot back.
"So, are we going to start, or what?" Stan asked, now serious.
"We can get started anytime," I said, nodding.
"Hmm, I think this might pose a problem." Stan's gaze drifted to my outfit.
"What is it? My clothes? I can use others if needed," I said, glancing down at my coat, sports bra, and cargo pants.
"That might be for the best, but the problem will be your height."
"Hmm, oh, are all the furnaces low?" I asked, realizing the issue.
"Yes."
"Hmm, we can start working. I will think of something while I work," I said, shrugging.
"Alright then, let us go and work," Stan said, leading me toward one of the furnaces in the back.
"So, how much do you know about the basics?" he asked after a few minutes.
"I have read some books about it, but it was only basic. I can't understand the intermediate ones without any experience."
"Hmm, at least you are not arrogant."
"I can be if you like," I said, tilting my head innocently.
"Please, no. We have enough of that in the other furnace room," Stan said, sounding dejected.
"Okay, I'll stay humble then," I chuckled.
Now, let's begin by discussing what you will be making. Steve probably already told you we will be making some weapons we will sell in the front, right?"
"Yes, he did mention that, but I actually thought he was joking."
"Every metal we use in here will go to the front, so we don't waste anything," Stan warned sternly.
"However, I believe my weapons will be of poor quality," I admitted.
"It doesn't matter. You will work on the same weapon until it's up to standard."
"Are you saying I have to work on one weapon for days?" I asked, my voice dropping in dread.
"Yes."
"Shit."