"So, is this everything the Defense Force is giving me? Nothing more... substantial?"
Andrew casually took the card and the stack of forms Von Lycaon had handed over, gave them a cursory glance, and set them aside without a second thought. He didn't even bother asking about the actual figures.
Same as always — once money surpassed a certain threshold, it stopped being money and started being just a number that occasionally fluctuated on a screen. For someone like Andrew, who only ever needed 'enough,' Dennies had long since lost the power to hold his attention.
Setting aside the balance in his accounts that he genuinely couldn't spend fast enough — with his own capabilities, the ways he could generate Dennies were simply too numerous to count. To say he could have as much as he wanted, whenever he wanted, would barely be an exaggeration.
So as far as Andrew was concerned, the time spent thinking about money would be far better spent scheming about whether he could use his new need for a garrison as a pretext to acquire another plot of land suitable for farming. Ideally, one that wasn't too far from the first.
His complete indifference to this gift, however, came as no surprise to Von Lycaon whatsoever.
Their previous interactions had already given him a thorough understanding of Andrew's temperament. Knowing full well that the man had zero interest in these things, Von Lycaon simply skipped past the topic without missing a beat.
"Please be patient a little longer, Esteemed Manager. There is, in fact, one final item the Defense Force has prepared for you."
But this time, facing Andrew's expectant gaze, Von Lycaon made no move to retrieve anything from his pockets. Instead, he simply remained standing in his respectful posture at the side and continued his explanation directly:
"This final item is actually a request — a request that, once you make it, the Defense Force will do everything in its power to fulfill."
Andrew blinked, momentarily caught off guard, before his instincts kicked in and he immediately shot back:
"A request? Any request at all?"
Naturally, Von Lycaon's prompt headshake shut that line of thinking down immediately. Watching Andrew's expression go from a flicker of intrigue to utterly flat disinterest the very instant he saw that denial, Von Lycaon pressed on nonetheless:
"To quote the other party directly: 'As long as it isn't too outrageous, any request you put forward will be accommodated to the best of our ability.'"
Andrew still couldn't muster even a shred of enthusiasm for this.
After turning it over in his mind for a good while and failing to think of a single thing he lacked that the Defense Force could actually provide, he finally chose to do what he did best in situations like this — punt the problem sideways.
He turned to look at Von Lycaon standing nearby.
The fact that Von Lycaon would know his attitude and still bring it up specifically meant the butler had probably already thought of something. After all, the time Von Lycaon had helped him track down Silver City had left an incredibly deep impression on Andrew. So this time, he decided to toss the question over and see what the man had to offer.
"Uh... Von Lycaon, do you have any suggestions for what this request should be?"
As Andrew had fully expected, Von Lycaon — who had long since developed a thorough understanding of Andrew's habits and interests — had indeed come prepared.
A perfect butler, after all, prepares the answers to his employer's questions before his employer even knows to ask them.
The moment Andrew lobbed the question his way, Von Lycaon responded without a moment's hesitation:
"In my humble opinion, as a blacksmith, you would naturally be far more interested in rare materials."
"Therefore, my personal suggestion would be to use your authority as a Colonel to formally request a supply allocation of Porcelite from the Defense Force as a regular material quota."
He spoke with the quiet confidence of a man who had already thought three steps ahead, and added:
"While a single squad's allocation quota may seem minuscule within the context of the military as a whole, for your personal use, it would undoubtedly be more than sufficient — quite plentiful, even."
"Porcelite? What exactly is that?"
The unfamiliar term gave Andrew pause.
Despite having spent this long in New Eridu, this was genuinely the first time he had ever heard the word 'Porcelite' from anyone's lips.
This fact, however, came as no surprise at all to Von Lycaon — not after learning that Andrew had transmigrated here from another world entirely. A material under the absolute monopoly of both the Defense Force and TOPS, with no accessible channels for outside acquisition? The chances of someone who'd been in New Eridu for such a short time having heard of it were essentially zero.
It was a good thing Von Lycaon had prepared a comprehensive dossier on Porcelite just in case. That forethought now paid dividends, giving Andrew a thorough, detailed breakdown of the material's properties in one fell swoop.
It was, in a word, a lifesaver.
The core property that instantly ignited Andrew's interest was Porcelite's extraordinary absorption capacity for Ether energy — an absorption so potent that it could briefly generate localized 'Ether Vacuum' zones, regions temporarily stripped of ambient Ether.
On top of that, Porcelite boasted exceptional resistance to virtually all elemental attributes. Its extreme hardness was paired with remarkable malleability — a combination of physical properties that made Andrew realize, almost immediately, that this stuff was absolutely premium-grade crafting material.
Von Lycaon also provided the answer to why Andrew, who spent the vast majority of his time scrounging for materials in the Janus District, had never once heard of it:
"So... under the dual monopoly of TOPS and the Defense Force, privately selling it is a serious crime. And if you want to acquire it through any channel outside those two, your only real option is to go digging around in the black market on the Waifei Peninsula?"
The dossier's notes on that particular option, listed under 'not recommended,' also made clear exactly why it was flagged:
"And even if you do manage to track down Porcelite on the black market, the quality would be completely unpredictable?"
All things considered, there really was no better acquisition channel than what Von Lycaon was proposing.
Based on the comprehensive profile in the report, Porcelite was, without exaggeration, one of the key pillars underpinning New Eridu's ability to survive this close to the Hollows. Just as a raw ingredient for anti-Ether-erosion medicinal compounds alone, no amount of mining output would ever be enough to fully meet demand.
So, just as Von Lycaon said — why go gambling at the black market when you had this golden opportunity to lock in a stable, legitimate supply channel right here and now?
No blacksmith alive could turn down a guaranteed supply channel for a new crafting material. Not even if the material was barely useful. That was the unspoken creed of every smith who had ever lived: I may not need it right now, but I absolutely cannot be without it.
And when the material in question had properties this exceptional on top of that? Resistance was simply not an option.
Besides — a material this unique and special would make a perfect gift for Gemma, a fellow blacksmith back in the Forbidden Lands.
And it wasn't just Gemma he was thinking of. Andrew hadn't forgotten his old Second Fleet Master uncle, either — the one who'd looked after him during his rookie days and now ran a smithy all the way out in the New World. He deserved a share too.
Beyond this unexpected windfall of Porcelite, Andrew had already pulled out a generous selection of other items from the smithy's stockroom: various Ethereal materials, Ether Alloy, Ether Coating Agents, and all manner of special Ether Crystals. With those materials to reference and study, Gemma and the others — being professional blacksmiths — would almost certainly be able to offer him fresh perspectives on the Ethereal-hunting weapons he'd crafted in New Eridu through improvisation and local adaptation.
Who knew — it might even give his own techniques a meaningful boost.
And it wasn't only smithing materials he'd been preparing.
Now that the decision to go back had been made, Andrew had been quietly assembling a rather substantial collection of gifts in anticipation of the return trip. His companions in the Forbidden Lands, the people he'd known back in the New World — he hadn't left a single one of them out.
The only caveat he'd mentally prepared for was the very real possibility that all these gifts might end up having to be forwarded through the Hunter's Guild's airship delivery service. The other side of the rift, after all, wasn't guaranteed to be the Forbidden Lands.
That alone explained the mystery of the Legiana. A creature that almost exclusively inhabited the unique ecology of the Coral Highlands — how could something like that have ever come through a rift and ended up in New Eridu? The Forbidden Lands had no environment remotely suitable for a Legiana to survive in.
Which meant the rift's exit point was unpredictable.
Under these circumstances, he'd need to think carefully about what preparations to make before setting off. Just to be safe.
And with all that settled in his mind, the moment Andrew learned about Porcelite, he adopted Von Lycaon's suggestion without the slightest hesitation.
With that, the Defense Force's full package of rewards was officially signed off on and accepted.
Everything tucked neatly away, all matters requiring a private conversation with Von Lycaon on the second floor fully resolved, the two of them headed back downstairs without delay, one after the other.
And the moment Andrew turned the corner at the bottom of the stairs, the distinctly bizarre tableau unfolding at the edge of the workshop immediately caught his eye.
The green-haired girl in twin tails was standing completely rigid in the corner of the workshop, visibly trembling, her hands wringing together in front of her without her realizing it. Beneath her neat fringe, her purple eyes had gone wide and swirly — like a pair of hypnosis spirals made flesh.
Directly in front of her, staring back with enormous, unblinking eyes full of nothing but pure, guileless curiosity, was Meow-Da.
Judging by the state of both of them, Andrew could tell at a glance that this motionless, wide-eyed standoff had been going on for quite some time.
He stepped up behind Meow-Da and looked down at the girl curled up in the corner, trembling like a leaf, and tilted his head in puzzlement:
"Meow-Da, what's going on here?"
"I honestly have no idea, meow."
Equally baffled, Meow-Da scratched its head, then gave a decisive shake:
"She's been like this ever since I first saw her — hasn't moved a muscle, meow. She looks like she's got something she wants to say, but I've been waiting here forever and she hasn't said a single word, meow."
Watching the girl's face cycle through a dozen different expressions in rapid succession while still failing to produce even a syllable — for this long — Meow-Da suddenly had a flash of inspiration.
Wait a second. She's been stumbling around trying to say something for this long and still hasn't managed a single word. Could it be... she literally couldn't talk?!
Convinced in that instant that it had cracked the case, Meow-Da puffed up with self-satisfaction.
Was it a genius? Was it actually a genius right now?!
The more it thought about it, the more airtight the theory seemed. Meow-Da immediately spoke up, voicing its hypothesis with solemn, probing gravity:
"Excuse me — can you talk, meow?"
Corin had already been in a state of pure, barely-controlled panic just facing Meow-Da. Then Andrew walked in, and her mind went completely blank.
Andrew's tall frame blocked out the overhead light, his shadow swallowing her whole. She tilted her head back and found herself staring up at a figure that seemed, from her angle, to loom like an entire mountain.
On top of that, Andrew was the client behind her very first commission since joining Victoria Housekeeping Co.
So when Meow-Da's question hit her right in the middle of her already completely frazzled, hypersensitive state, the 'I don't know what to do' meter inside her brain didn't just redline — it shattered the gauge entirely.
Her mind had gone offline. But her body, it seemed, had its own opinions about what to do next.
She reacted to Meow-Da leaning in toward her on pure, deep-seated instinct.
Corin snapped into a bow — hard, fast, and utterly committed — driving her head down so low it blew past ninety degrees entirely. Her twin tails swung forward through the air in a vivid, bouncing arc.
And then, with what sounded like every last ounce of air in her lungs, she yelled:
"I — I'm so sorry!"
"Meow?!"
"I sincerely apologize!"
"W-wait, I didn't mean it like that, meow—"
"I am — I am so, so, so deeply sorry!"
The sheer intensity of Corin's reaction had completely blown past anything Meow-Da could have possibly anticipated.
And for the life of it, Meow-Da could not figure out why she was suddenly apologizing in the first place. It hadn't blamed her for anything... had it?
With the way this looked, even Meow-Da itself was starting to doubt whether it had somehow been bullying her without realizing it.
That aside, right now, this scene looked very much like bullying, meow!!
Thunk.
While Meow-Da was still valiantly attempting to explain itself — futilely inching closer to try and be more convincing, an action that was only pouring oil on the fire and sending Corin's apology spiral to even greater heights — Andrew's fist had already descended squarely onto the top of its head.
"Meow-OUCH!"
Accompanied by Meow-Da's pained yelp as it clapped both paws to its head, Andrew grabbed it by the scruff of its neck and pulled it straight back behind him.
Then Andrew crouched down.
With that single motion, the towering, mountain-like silhouette he'd cut in Corin's field of vision shrank considerably. His eye level dropped to something that no longer required her to crane her neck back to look at him.
It also gave him a much clearer view of her expression.
Just this one adjustment immediately and dramatically reduced the sense of pressure he was radiating from her perspective. An effective method for easing the tension of someone smaller and more nervous — one Andrew had worked out in his first life from experience dealing with cats and other small creatures, later refined through the Hunter's practical wisdom on first contact with smaller, neutral indigenous beings like wild Felyne Clans or the Gajalaka.
He extended both hands out in front of him, palms open and facing upward, and held them there — while carefully leaving a deliberate, unhurried gap of space between his hands and Corin, to make it unmistakably clear she was in no danger.
The same logic as slowly offering your open hand to a stray cat you'd just met on the street. Give it enough space, let it take in your scent at its own pace, make no sudden moves.
Corin knew, on some rational level, that Andrew wasn't going to hurt her. But the gut-deep panic that had been running away with her couldn't seem to get the memo — at least, not until she actually saw what Andrew was doing. Watching him crouch down, seeing those open, unhurried hands, she felt the runaway tension in her chest ease back, just a little.
Watching the color gradually return to her expression, Andrew kept his voice as gentle as he could and said:
"Deep breath. Relax. You haven't done anything wrong, so there's really no need to be apologizing to us."
____
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