When Shane returned to Magnolia, it was already afternoon, the sun beginning to slide west.
Time had flown, but he felt a steady, satisfying fullness inside.
The half-day of running around hadn't been wasted—his gains were far beyond what he'd expected.
In just one day, he'd not only confirmed a key lead for the long-chain trial, but also laid the groundwork for what came next.
Compared to the other trial—where he had to chase the elusive, almost mythical Zeref—this progress was practically a blessing.
He pushed open the Fairy Tail guild doors. A wave of noisy warmth and the smell of food washed over him.
One glance, and he spotted Erza sitting upright at a table near the window, arms crossed, her pretty face clearly displeased.
Two empty plates sat in front of her. The smears of cream made it obvious there had been cake there once.
"This is your punishment. I didn't save you any," Erza said, huffing at Shane as he walked in.
She was still annoyed that he hadn't woken her up that morning and had slipped out alone.
After all, she was the one who knocked on his door every day.
Shane gave a dry laugh, fully aware he was in the wrong. He hurried over and started cracking jokes—launching into an animated, overly detailed description of the "all shapes and sizes" beautiful maids he'd seen at Duke Ebal's estate.
He gestured as he spoke, wearing an expression that was hard to put into words. "Erza, it's a real shame you didn't see it last time—seriously, it was a sight for the ages!"
He made it so vivid that even Gray, who'd wandered over to listen out of boredom, wore a disbelieving face.
"There's really a duke with tastes that… unique?" Gray scratched at his—somehow bare again—shoulder, not buying it. "Aren't noble old men supposed to drown in pleasure and prefer the standard 'beautiful woman' type? That's what my stereotypes say."
Shane shot him a deadpan look. "He just likes a special type of beauty. How is that not still indulgence? Your bias is showing."
After a few more casual jabs with Erza and Gray—enough to smooth over Erza's mood for the moment—Shane realized that ever since he'd gotten a basic grasp of Requip, he didn't really have a clear training objective.
His mind started turning.
He sauntered up to the bar with a grin and looked at Master Makarov, who was sipping his drink.
But the moment Makarov saw that expression, his face darkened. Even his white mustache twitched upward.
Clearly, the old man was still thinking about Shane privately contacting a client earlier—and dreading the idea that another complaint letter might show up along with New Year's greetings.
He did not want to spend Lunar New Year bent over a desk writing a reflection letter.
Since he needed a favor, Shane immediately raised three fingers and swore earnestly. "Master, I swear! I didn't cause trouble today. Everything—uh—was resolved in a friendly, mutually agreeable atmosphere!"
Makarov eyed him suspiciously for a few beats. When Shane didn't look like he was lying, the old man's expression eased slightly. He sighed.
"Fine. What is it this time?"
Shane latched on instantly. "Master, that book you recommended this morning—An Overview of the Celestial Spirit World's Biological Lineages—was great!
I just wanted to ask: does our library have any other books like that? More niche, but solid content. Ideally… something with ties to Zeref."
He figured he couldn't rely only on Ultear's lead. Makarov had experience—he should help push this too.
Unfortunately, he'd barely said the name before Makarov's face tightened again.
"You brat! You're still hung up on that name?! Is that something you can casually dig into?!"
So angry his beard practically bristled, Makarov's finger instantly enlarged. He flicked.
Bang!
Shane went flying.
Shane could've dodged, but he decided to take it on purpose—if it made the old man feel better, fine. He arced through the air and landed in a heap in an open patch of floor, looking thoroughly pitiful.
He grimaced and climbed back up, trudging to his seat.
"Hahaha!" Gray, who'd witnessed everything, burst out laughing and pointed at him. "Serves you right! Stop poking the master all the time!"
Normally Shane would've made him "shut up" the physical way.
But he was in a great mood—long-chain trial progress had broadened his patience. He only gave Gray a flat look and didn't bother.
That reaction freaked Gray out instead. He widened his eyes dramatically, leaned in, and even reached out to feel Shane's forehead. "Hey—are you okay? Got a fever?"
Over at another table, Cana—busy fiddling with cards—rolled her eyes. Gray's habit of poking Shane on purpose was starting to look like a weird fetish.
Shane got fed up and stood up, moving to Wakaba and Macao's table instead.
Those two were huddled together, leering shamelessly at the center of the hall.
There, a dancer with healthy tan skin and a graceful figure was moving with the music, her hips swaying and drawing a sea of attention.
"Wooow… that waist, those legs…" Macao muttered dreamily.
"Tsk, tsk. No wonder she's the most popular dancer in the guild…" Wakaba agreed, not even noticing Shane had approached.
Shane looked at the two of them, completely entranced, and clicked his tongue.
Great. These two were even less available.
Just as he was starting to feel aimless, a slightly hesitant voice came from behind him.
"Um… sorry to bother you, Shane. Can I draw you?"
Shane turned and saw a slim young man with fluffy hair and a signature wizard hat.
It was Reedus.
Shane recognized him—people said he used Pict Magic, able to bring what he drew to life for combat. It sounded fascinating, and honestly, Shane envied it. He'd been terrible at drawing since childhood; the only thing he could reliably produce was stick figures.
"Why the sudden urge to draw me?" Shane asked, curious.
Reedus adjusted his hat and explained seriously. "I paint a portrait of every new member who joins the guild, as a keepsake. But you, Shane—you're always vanishing. I've never had a good chance."
"You drew Erza too?" Shane asked.
Reedus nodded. "Erza's? I finished it last month. And Laki, who joined recently—I drew her too. You're the only one missing."
So that was a tradition.
Shane felt it was a pretty cool way to commemorate someone. And since he had nothing urgent to do, he nodded easily.
"Sure. What do you need me to do?"
Reedus brightened immediately. He set up his easel and pulled out brushes and a palette. "Just sit in a comfortable position. Don't force a pose."
The drawing process was quiet.
Shane cooperated and stayed still, letting his gaze drift across the noisy guild hall—watching companions bicker, drink, and laugh.
Reedus, meanwhile, was fully absorbed, his brush whispering across the paper, eyes focused and sincere.
After a while, Reedus stopped, exhaled lightly, and said, "Done."
Shane leaned in to look.
The portrait was strikingly lifelike—his expression captured with uncanny accuracy, even the familiar faint smile at the corner of his "dead-fish eyes."
"This is amazing," Shane said, genuinely impressed.
Reedus treated it like treasure, carefully setting it into a wooden frame he'd prepared in advance. His tone was solemn.
"I'll hang it with everyone else's and keep it safe in the guild."
~~~
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