Zog's Toy Store had a few new employees.
Indeed, due to the rather limited cultural refinement of Zog and his followers, he had ultimately chosen to use his own name for the store.
Besides, Ackley across the street had done the same.
Zog was, after all, one of the most infamous villains on the Continent. Naming the toy store after himself created a sense of contrast and absurd humor, demonstrating the owner's determination to make toys unlike any other.
At least, that was how he'd rationalized the name.
The new employees were local girls he had hired, since his own motley crew was hardly suited for customer service.
The store was deserted. In seven days, sales had barely scraped past Five Silver Coins, and some of those were courtesy purchases from Sir Bain.
Zog wasn't in a hurry. Once the story of *Firepower Young King* got going and the hype started to build, business would naturally pick up.
He figured he might as well use the free time to study the Magic Book. Dragon Language Magic was inscribed in his very genes—no study required, it just came naturally.
But as for true magic, he was completely clueless.
He had never been interested before, because even an Eighth-Ring Cloud Burning Technique couldn't hold a candle to a single gout of Dragon Breath. But now that he was on a different path, it was best to learn as much as he could.
He wouldn't have known if he hadn't tried, but it turned out his talent for magic was astonishing. 'This Great Dragon brain isn't just for show, after all.'
While he was lost in his studies, Elsa, in contrast, was as anxious as a rookie web novelist constantly refreshing the back end to check their subscription numbers.
The look she gave Zog was one of exasperated disappointment.
'They're in the same boat now. If the Yo-Yo business truly fails, who is going to pay my monthly salary of Twenty-Five Silver Coins?'
Toto felt the same way.
So she decided to earn as much as she could before they went out of business, throwing herself wholeheartedly into developing new Yo-Yo tricks.
Her mental state made people wonder how many days it had been since she'd last slept.
Her face was ashen, her eyes lifeless, her hair was shiny with grease, and her hands were stiffly but precisely repeating the motions. All the while, she kept muttering, "Another Five Silver Coins, another Five Silver Coins, hehehehehe..."
The goblins had already started a betting pool on which day Toto would drop dead in the shop.
"TING-A-LING—"
The bell on the door chimed.
A middle-aged man walked in. It was already summer, yet he was wearing a tailcoat, a top hat, and carrying a cane.
Even though there was a clock right there in the shop, he made a show of checking his pocket watch, exuding the affected air of someone playing the part of an aristocrat.
He didn't look like the target audience for Yo-Yos at all, nor did he seem like someone who had read *Firepower Young King*.
Although they had cast a wide net with submissions at first, most newspapers refused to publish the comic. Mainstream opinion still looked down on the medium, so only the tabloids would run it.
The man declined the clerk's offer of assistance and began to wander the shop on his own. He tried out a few Yo-Yos, failed to get the hang of them, but still offered a critique for each one.
"A color palette devoid of aesthetic sense."
"The craftsmanship is somewhat crude."
"Fails to capture a child's imagination."
If that were all, it might have been tolerable, but he also punctuated his comments with little noises: "Heh," "Oh, dear," "Hmph," "Tsk, tsk..."
Perhaps because it was the middle of the month, the already anxious Elsa became even more irritated.
His every move grated on her nerves, each one more irritating than the last. She desperately wanted to lock the doors and unleash the Beastmen on him.
After several laps around the store, the man finally stopped in front of Elsa and offered a slight bow.
"Beautiful lady, you must be the manager of this shop."
"I am," Elsa replied curtly.
"My dear lady, anger is so bad for one's complexion, you know."
'Elsa, you are a Level Two Illusionist, the chief Yo-Yo special effects designer, a toy store manager, a top talent earning a handsome salary of Twenty-Five Silver Coins a month. Be mature.'
She fought to suppress the urge to slap him across the face.
The man continued, "I am Hakan Ackley. I own a small toy shop, which just so happens to be right across the street."
"Wow, that's amazing. I never would have guessed. You're just so super-duper, you know? Should I give you a Yo-Yo as a prize?"
Ackley ignored Elsa's taunts.
"My shop's business is perhaps just a tad better than this one's. Should you find yourself unemployed, you're welcome to come work for me. The role of a clown would suit you perfectly."
Without giving Elsa a chance to reply, he turned and strode out the door. He paused at the entrance to offer another bow and called out, "I do hope to see you in my shop very soon!"
Elsa was seeing red.
Ackley returned to his own shop, feeling exceptionally pleased with himself.
His younger brother asked nervously, "Well? How's business at that shop?"
"They're no threat at all. When I saw them renovate and open so quickly, I thought they might be someone formidable to dare open a shop right across from us. Turns out, what they sell in a week is less than what we sell in an hour."
"That doesn't seem right. I think the Yo-Yo design is quite good; there must be lots of ways to play with it." He was holding a Yo-Yo that had been taken apart into two halves.
"Don't you worry about this Yo-Yo nonsense. Just keep designing toys your way. That shop across the street won't be open for much longer."
Hakan took off his coat, poured himself a glass of wine, and downed it in one go. "And calling it Zog's," he scoffed. "Do they really think they have an Evil Dragon in there?"
Ackley's Toy Store was a family business run by brothers. The older brother, Hakan, was in charge of managing the store, while the younger brother, Karaman, was responsible for designing and making the toys.
Night fell, and Chrysanthemum Street grew quiet.
As Hakan was closing up, he made a point to glance over at Zog's Toy Store. It was already shut for the night—no doubt due to a lack of business.
One's own success is gratifying, of course, but the failure of a rival is even more exhilarating.
Upon returning home, he specifically instructed the servants to prepare a lavish dinner. He had something to celebrate.
Time together as a family was always precious.
Although he himself had amassed considerable wealth selling toys, he didn't want his three children to follow him into the trade.
The reason was simple: one couldn't become nobility by selling toys.
Even though members of the Imperial Family played with his toys, in the eyes of the true aristocracy, he was nothing more than a humble merchant.
So he sent all his children to the best schools. If one of them could awaken a talent for magic, becoming a Level Five Mage would earn them a noble title.
Even without an aptitude for magic, they were to study hard and become lawyers, doctors, or scholars. Anything but follow him into the toy business.
Dinner was soon ready. Just as they finished their pre-meal prayer to the Magic Goddess and were about to eat, Hakan noticed someone was missing.
"Where's Ben?" Hakan asked.
Ben was his youngest son, and also his best student. His teachers at school praised him, saying he could get into Pelen Tower in the future.
That was one of the Twin Towers, home to the Institute of Technology and the Academy of Sciences. Even the nobility had to treat the scholars within with a degree of respect.
'He can't afford to have any mishaps. All his energy must be focused on his studies.'
"He's probably studying upstairs," his wife answered. "I've called for him several times, but he hasn't come down."
"I'll go get him then." Hakan also brought a plate of Ben's favorite dessert, ready to display a bit of fatherly affection.
He went upstairs and knocked gently on the door.
"Ben, it's me."
"Just a minute!" The reply was followed by the sound of shuffling from inside the room.
Hakan immediately felt something was wrong. He reached out to open the door, only to find it was locked from the inside.
"Haven't I told you not to lock doors in this house? What are you doing in there?"
"Nothing!" After a few hurried footsteps, the door opened to reveal Ben standing there in his pajamas.
"I got tired from reading, so I took a nap. I locked the door because I didn't want the servants to disturb me."
"The servants in this house are not allowed to enter your room without your permission, have you forgotten?"
"But, that's not... "
Before Ben could explain, Hakan pushed him aside and walked into the room, observing every detail like a detective.
'What's that tucked inside that book?'
He picked up the book from the pile, opened it, and found a folded newspaper inside.
Unfolding it, he saw it was filled with comics.
"What is this? *Firepower Young King*?" He read aloud the name, which sounded like utter nonsense to him. "Is this something you should be reading?"
With that, he tore the newspaper to shreds.
"Don't rip it! A classmate lent that to me..." Ben's pleading voice was on the verge of tears.
"You're supposed to get into Pelen Tower! Do I work myself to the bone so you can read this?"
Hakan slammed the shredded newspaper down on the desk.
"CLANG—"
Two round things fell out from a rack on the desk.
Hakan thought they looked familiar. He picked them up and saw they were inscribed with "Firepower Warrior" and "Blazing Fire Dragon Ball" respectively.
These were Yo-Yos?