The Guild's offices were unusually quiet, the usual clatter of adventurers hushed as JP and Lyra were ushered into a side chamber. Three officials sat behind a wide desk, parchments already stacked in intimidating piles.
"First things first," the lead examiner began, voice clipped. "Two assassins entered your lodgings last night. One escaped with grievous wounds, the other…" He glanced at his notes. "…did not. That is no small matter. Do either of you have enemies of this caliber?"
JP spread his hands. "I'd like to think I'm not that interesting. Unless selling lamps and mushroom soup has suddenly become a crime."
Lyra shot him a look, but the corner of her mouth twitched despite herself.
The female scribe leaned forward. "We have reason to believe this was not random. Both of you were targeted. That raises… complications." Her eyes slid to Lyra, whose hood shadowed her face.
Lyra stayed still, hands folded.
The third official, a thin man with sharp eyes, shifted his attention back to JP. "On another note. Where is your satchel?"
JP blinked. "My satchel?"
"Yes. Witnesses often describe you carrying it. Today, however, it is missing. Did the assassins steal it?"
Panic spiked in JP's chest. He patted his cloak instinctively, where the belt bag pulsed faintly against his hip. "Oh, that? Uh… got tired of the straps. Bad for my posture. Downsized."
The officials exchanged wary glances.
Lyra coughed, interjecting smoothly, "He's been experimenting with traveling lighter. Carrying everything in one pack was… inefficient."
But the question planted a seed in JP's head.Downsized. Or rather… compressed.
The thought gnawed at him as the interrogation dragged on. His master's voice echoed which is his niece telling him over the phone from a half-forgotten memory: "Space is but a fold. Containers can be taught to swallow more than their seams allow. A true craftsman learns to bend weight, not just metal, that was the game description uncle for the inventory i told you before, it was awesome I'd like to have those.... lol"
It clicked.The satchel hadn't vanished—it had merged. The belt rig wasn't just clever leatherwork. It was a disguised spatial container.
So that's what you meant, old man i mean my little cute niece… JP thought, hiding his grin behind a scratch of his chin.
"Sir?" the lead examiner snapped him back. "You seem distracted."
JP coughed. "No, no, just… ah, reliving the trauma. Very traumatized. Definitely not thinking about bags."
Lyra's boot nudged his under the table, hard.
After what felt like hours of note-taking, quill-scratching, and stern warnings about safety, the officials finally dismissed them. "Until further notice, both of you remain under Guild observation. For your own safety," the lead officer stressed.
As they stepped back into the corridor, Lyra finally exhaled. "You almost gave it away."
JP tugged his cloak tighter around the belt bag, his grin resurfacing. "Nah. They were too busy with the paperwork. Besides—" He lowered his voice. "I think I just unlocked a trick my 'old master'(his niece) left me. This little pouch? Might be a whole lot bigger on the inside."
Lyra blinked, then groaned. "That's either brilliant… or very, very dangerous."
"Why not both?" JP whispered, already daydreaming of what else he might cram inside.