Chapter Twenty-Two: The Atelier Accusation
"Everyone wants a piece once you start the fire."
— Old merchant proverb, origin conveniently forgotten
"Conditions? What kind of conditions?" Susan asked.
Her earlier joy—bright as a freshly polished coin—vanished in a heartbeat, replaced by a stillness so sharp it seemed to bite at the edges of the air.
Mr. Torente's face stretched into a vile grin, thin as a razor and twice as nasty.
"Oh, just a few trivial things, Miss Lakanbini," he drawled, savoring the silence like a wine that only got more sour with age. "First of all…"
He turned to Tina, who stood statue-still, the Whispering Seagulls crest on her chest like a badge of honor being spit on.
"…our guild, Dehin's Goli, will henceforth be the only guild in town."
The air snapped taut.
Tina gasped—sharp, strangled, and furious. Her face drained of color before a flush of pure rage rose up like wildfire, turning her neck and ears a deep, furious red.
"Well," Torente continued breezily, "shut down your little feather-club immediately. Second, we're exempt from taxes. We're doing you a favor. Third, Sarimanook will cover the construction costs of our new Guild Hall."
He turned his gaze on me like a landlord eyeing a tenant with unpaid rent.
"And last but not least... we want exclusive rights to those lighters of yours."
Wait, what?
"You want to... buy them all?" I blinked, my brain stalling like a busted tricycle.
"Yes," he smiled. "And only we get to sell them. Exclusively."
"But then I won't have anything for my shop!"
"Then your shelves are empty," he said with a shrug slimier than wet soap. "The people can just buy from us. Problem solved."
I could practically taste the arrogance on my tongue—bitter and burnt, like bad coffee reheated three times.
"That's why I'm worried," I snapped. "You'll control the whole supply and then gouge the prices."
"Well, yes," he admitted with a smirk. "We'd probably have to raise prices… a little."
The glint in his eye said "a little" meant crippling.
Susan stepped forward, her voice calm but razor-edged.
"That's excessive. He opened this shop in good faith."
"You still don't get it," Torente sighed, like a disappointed principal. "This isn't about some rinky-dink bodega. This is about IP. Valuable. Exclusive. And we want it."
My mouth went dry.
"Sign over the rights," he said. "We'll even handle branding. You sit back and watch the coin roll in."
"It's a nice pitch," I said. "But I'll have to decline."
Crack. That was the sound of his smile shattering.
"Why?"
"Simple. I can't restock that fast."
Torente stepped closer. His belly pressed against mine—soft, heavy, and full of threat.
"We've got eyes everywhere," he whispered. "Adventurers. Guilds. No one's ever heard of these lighters outside Sarimanook. No shipments. No suppliers. But you always restock. Without ever leaving."
The breath that hit my face reeked of fish sauce and fried garlic.
"So either you're a smuggler... or something else."
"Maybe I've got a storage item?" I offered weakly.
He sneered.
"If you had one that big, you'd be rich in the capital. But here you are, hiding in the provinces. Which means…"
He stepped back, raised his arms like a theater actor about to drop the final curtain.
"There's only one explanation."
The pause was ice-cold.
"You're running an atelier."
Silence.
"You're not selling lighters. You're making them. Secretly. Illegally. A private workshop. No registration. No guild license. No oversight. That's a violation."
He turned, sweeping the room with arms wide like a doomsday prophet:
"He's not a merchant. He's a rogue atelier operator. A failed crafter from the capital, hiding in Sarimanook, peddling dangerous tech."
I stood frozen.
Me?
A rogue crafter?
A secret artisan with a hidden lab?
The accusation hit like a brick wrapped in legal paperwork.
And for the first time, I wasn't sure if I should deny it.
Author's Note
This chapter was pure anime confrontation energy™—right down to the close-up garlic breath shots. Torente's got full villain drip now: overconfident, corporate, and convinced he just cracked the case. Whether or not Pepito actually runs an atelier is still up in the air... but the fallout? Oh, it's coming.
This is the first domino, and it just tipped.
Mini Glossary
Atelier – A private workshop or studio where a skilled artisan secretly crafts rare or valuable goods. Often used for high-level crafting—sometimes illegal or unregistered.
IP (Intellectual Property) – An invention, design, or idea that can be legally owned and sold. In this world, guilds treat IP like treasure.
Dehin's Goli – A massive, expansionist adventurer guild known for absorbing or stomping out smaller guilds.
Whispering Seagulls – The local, underdog adventurer guild trying to survive Sarimanook's growing tensions.
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