Shane really did settle down.
Every morning without fail, he meditated. His magic power didn't surge dramatically, but it flowed like a trickling stream—steady and continuous.
He wasn't sure if it was just his imagination, but as his magic power rose, he felt that some of his other stats—ones that hadn't budged in ages—were starting to show signs of breaking through again.
By noon, he was usually in the guild library. With recommendations from Makarov and Levy, he worked through books full of obscure, niche knowledge.
Erza, on the other hand, became completely addicted to the thrill and sense of accomplishment that came from taking jobs, running around outside, and solving problems. She took requests at a crazy rate.
At first, Shane would go with her. Later, he got sick of how time-consuming the travel was and started letting her go alone.
The result was that Erza's personal savings visibly swelled.
And her Requip space gained several more sets of impressive, imposing armor.
Shane himself took on small errands he could complete inside Magnolia—mostly to cover their steadily rising household expenses.
At night, he either practiced the various applications of Requip, or he lit a fire in the backyard forge.
Whenever inspiration struck, he put designs into practice—clang, clang, clang—constantly expanding Arash's "ammo vault."
The only issue was that the arrows he made looked… unusual.
Each one had a complete, intricately crafted blade and hilt.
One time, Gray dropped by and saw them. He picked one up, weighed it in his hand, and stared suspiciously.
"Hey, Shane—are you sure you didn't forge a one-handed sword? This thing is an arrow?"
Shane could only answer with an exhausted eye-roll. He didn't bother explaining his aesthetic to some "ice-underwear guy" who clearly had no taste.
Besides, the deep crimson bow didn't care what the arrows looked like.
And if that was the case, then a real man obviously used swords as arrows.
There was one more thing that left Shane feeling… complicated.
Ever since New Year's Eve—when Erza had forcibly dragged him into the backyard hot spring they'd just filled—it somehow became routine.
Erza seemed to have discovered the most comfortable way to relax. Whenever she soaked at home, she always pulled Shane in with her, for perfectly "reasonable" reasons:
"It's hard to scrub my back alone. And if you're here, the water temperature can be adjusted anytime, so it's the most comfortable."
No matter how gently Shane protested that he preferred bathing alone, or tried to stress that people needed basic personal boundaries…
Erza always answered with complete confidence:
"What does it matter? And besides, Shane—you look pretty comfortable too."
…Which, annoyingly, he couldn't deny.
Her back-scrubbing technique was precise, the pressure perfect. Combined with the hot spring's warmth, it washed away fatigue until your whole body felt light.
In the end, his protests were useless.
Over time, this "household tradition" settled in—kept alive by Erza's insistence and Shane's half-hearted surrender.
Days drifted by in that leisurely rhythm.
In a blink, spring snow melted, and early summer arrived.
That day, atop the tall clocktower of the Cardea Cathedral in downtown Magnolia—
Shane stood in the wind, his black hair grown slightly longer and ruffled by the breeze.
He looked down over the lively city: rows of houses, crowded streets, constant movement.
The usual lazy look was gone from his eyes, replaced by the sharpness of a hunting hawk.
With heightened senses and Clairvoyance boosting his sight, streams of information flooded in—then were filtered and discarded in an instant.
Suddenly, his gaze locked onto a shadowed alley below. A quick orange dot was weaving through it with nimble speed.
"Found you."
A smile tugged at his lips. Without hesitation, he planted one hand on the clocktower railing and vaulted off.
It was as if gravity didn't apply to him. He dropped from dozens of meters up, clothes snapping in the wind—
On the way down, he tapped the edge of a jutting window ledge, then a signboard, then another protrusion—each touch bleeding away momentum. His movements were smooth, precise, and he landed neatly in the alley.
A brief chase began.
His target was a chubby orange cat—its fur sleek, but now smeared with soot and grime, making it look rather pitiful.
It moved fast and knew the alleys like home, slipping through narrow gaps at the perfect moments.
But Shane was faster, and he could always predict its escape route.
After a few turns, the cat was cornered in a dead-end cluttered with wooden crates. It hissed uselessly in threat.
"Hah. Another cheerful day of completing requests."
Shane casually lifted the squirming little troublemaker, wiped sweat that didn't exist, and sighed in satisfaction.
The locals looked completely used to this by now. They barely spared him a glance as he passed and returned to their own work.
But a few kids playing nearby lit up with admiration, pointing excitedly.
"Look! It's Fairy Tail's 'Pet-Catching Hero'!"
"Thank you so much!"
Once it was over, a fashionable auntie jogged up with practiced ease.
She took the still-flailing cat from Shane's hands and hugged both cat and—briefly—Shane in sheer enthusiasm.
"Oh my gosh, this fluffball has escaped four times this month! If you didn't help, I really wouldn't know what to do!"
She rubbed the cat hard. "Thank you so much, Shane!"
"No, ma'am…"
Shane struggled to extract himself from the thick perfume cloud and the overly warm hug, then offered his honest advice.
"I think you might want to consider… closing your windows."
"No, no," the stylish auntie shook her head furiously. "That would make kitty too bored!"
"And besides—if it escapes again, can't we just ask you to help?"
She sighed happily. "Fairy Tail having someone as reliable as you lately is just wonderful!"
That woman's logic was so uniquely unstoppable that Shane knew he had to flee before she dragged him into another conversation.
For the past three months, he'd helped her capture this "prison-break specialist" cat no fewer than twenty times. They were basically "old acquaintances" at this point.
He even felt like the orange cat in her arms—now suddenly calm—was glaring at him with a disturbingly human level of resentment.
It was surreal. He could clearly read "I'm pissed" on a cat's face.
"Excuse me!"
Shane turned and escaped cleanly, while behind him the auntie's grumbling scolding of the cat continued.
He pushed open Fairy Tail's doors.
Before he even reached the bar, he saw Master Makarov standing up there, smiling warmly and waving.
"Well now, Shane—nicely done!" the old man looked genuinely pleased.
"Never thought your abilities would be this suited to finding lost cats and dogs and rats and birds."
"Lately, our guild's reputation in Magnolia has improved by a lot!"
Makarov was practically glowing. Just earlier, he'd been strolling around town and had residents greeting him, praising his mages as "helpful" and "reliable," and his mustache had been twitching with joy.
He'd never gotten that treatment before. Usually when he went out, all he heard were complaints—this shop wrecked, that guy caused trouble again.
There was even a stretch where he'd been too embarrassed to go outside.
Shane scratched his head, thinking:
So as long as you don't smash things and just catch cats like a normal person, the reputation skyrockets. Master, maybe you really should reflect on how you manage the rest of these lunatics…
"I'm just saying," Macao chimed in from the bar with a drink in hand, "with your strength, staying in Magnolia catching pets every day is kind of a waste, isn't it?"
"No," Shane turned around and answered with startling seriousness.
"Arash wouldn't feel sad that I use Clairvoyance to find missing cats and dogs. He'd only feel sad if I had the power to help people in need—and didn't."
"Waaah—here we go again! Classic Shane scene!" Wakaba yelped, elbowing the person next to him. "I knew it!"
Over the past few months, Shane had "preached" plenty to the guild—telling story after story about the great hero Arash.
At first everyone found it fresh and listened with interest.
But after enough repetitions—especially with Shane delivering it every time in that dead-serious, sincere tone—the rowdy mages started having trouble coping.
"Ahem!" Makarov coughed quickly the instant he saw Shane's eyes brighten again.
He hurriedly pulled out a beautifully made request form from under the bar and handed it over, successfully changing the subject.
"Right. Shane—there's a request here specifically assigned to you. Want to take it?"
This is it?
Shane's eyes flashed.
He stepped forward and took the form from Makarov, scanning it fast.
[Request]: Escort Zodiac Golden Key: Virgo to the Heartfilia family estate.
[Client]: Duke Everlue.
~~~
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