Clean Magic

VII

Yesterday's events had been... intense, to say the least. The kind of intense that makes you reevaluate all your life choices while staring at the ceiling and wondering if you should just call it quits and live as a hermit in the woods.

Not that I was seriously considering it. But the thought had crossed my mind.

I decided to take things easy today. No caskets, no enchanted runes, no near-death experiences. Just a calm, quiet day. That was the plan, anyway.

After a hearty breakfast in Shinemere, which consisted of fresh bread, eggs, and a surprisingly decent cup of coffee, I felt ready to face the world—or at least the laundromat. I'd left my suit there yesterday, and I wasn't about to let it sit there any longer than necessary.

The streets of Amsten were bustling as usual, with merchants hawking their wares and townsfolk going about their business. The air was crisp, carrying the faint smell of baked goods and something less pleasant from the slums. I ignored it and made my way to the laundromat.

The shopkeeper greeted me with a polite nod as I entered. The place was modest but clean, with rows of clothing neatly hung and sorted. My suit was hanging in plain view, pressed and pristine.

"Good morning," I said, approaching the counter. "I'm here to pick up my suit."

The shopkeeper smiled, reaching for the garment. "Ah, yes. A fine piece, if I may say so. Took extra care with it."

I inspected the suit, running my fingers over the fabric. It was as good as new, no trace of the paint from my impulsive painting session.

"Perfect. Thank you," I said, handing over the payment.

The shopkeeper handed me the suit, and I slung it carefully over my arm.

With my suit retrieved, I stepped back out into the bustling streets, feeling a small sense of accomplishment. It wasn't much, but after last night, even the simplest of tasks felt like a win.

I glanced at the sky, the sun climbing higher and promising a warm day ahead. "Alright," I muttered to myself. "What's next?"

I mulled over my options for the day as I wandered aimlessly through the cobbled streets of Amsten. Fishing by the river? Too dull. I'd probably last five minutes before throwing the rod into the water out of frustration. Maybe I could buy a book? That idea lingered longer in my mind. Comparing this world's lore with what I remembered from the game could be interesting. But then again, sitting and reading for hours sounded a bit too... passive.

That's when the idea struck me.

"Ah, I know," I muttered under my breath. My suit. I should get it enchanted with a simple [Tier 1] Clean magic. It would cost a hefty sum, but it would be worth it to avoid the constant hassle of laundry and stains. Since I had money to spare—thanks to my time-stopping antics—I might as well indulge a little.

I waved down a passing carriage, one of the commercial types meant for quick rides around the city. The driver, an older man with a bushy mustache and a no-nonsense demeanor, tipped his hat as I approached.

"Need a ride, sir?" he asked.

"Yeah," I replied, climbing in. "Do you know a place that offers justifiable enchantments?"

The driver scratched his chin, clearly considering the question. "Well, there's 'Arcane Embers.' Decent place. They cater to adventurers and common folk alike. Prices are fair, and they won't cheat ya. Should I take you there?"

I nodded. "Sounds perfect."

The carriage clattered along the uneven streets as we made our way through Amsten. The city bustled with life, vendors shouting about their wares, children darting between pedestrians, and the occasional adventurer strutting about in their gleaming armor. It was a scene that still felt surreal to me, even after days of living here.

We arrived at Arcane Embers—a modest shop tucked between a bakery and a blacksmith. The sign above the door depicted a glowing ember surrounded by swirling magical runes. It was simple but effective.

Inside, the shop was a cozy mix of clutter and organization. Shelves lined with scrolls, vials, and enchanted trinkets filled the room, while a faint hum of magic permeated the air. A young man with bright blue hair stood behind the counter, flipping through a tome. He looked up as I entered.

"Welcome to Arcane Embers," he said with a practiced smile. "What can I do for you today?"

[Level 32]

Not bad.

I pulled out my suit jacket, careful not to wrinkle it further. "I need this enchanted with [Tier 1] Clean magic. How much would that cost?"

The clerk examined the fabric with a critical eye, then nodded. "Good quality material. For [Tier 1] Clean magic, that'll be twenty-five hundred worths."

"Fair enough," I said, handing over the money.

He gestured for me to place the suit on the counter, then retrieved a small crystal and a piece of magically infused chalk. With practiced movements, he drew a series of intricate runes around the jacket, muttering an incantation under his breath. The crystal glowed softly as the runes lit up, and within moments, the enchantment was complete.

"All done," the clerk announced, handing the jacket back to me.

I inspected it, running my fingers over the fabric. It looked the same, but there was a subtle shimmer to it now—a sign of the enchantment at work.

"That was fast," I commented, watching as the young man placed my freshly enchanted suit on the counter.

In the game, enchantments would involve some kind of mini-game—puzzles or gauges to make the process more interactive. But this world wasn't the game, and things seemed to work more efficiently here.

The young man smirked, clearly pleased with himself. "I might not look like it, but I'm a prodigy, you know?"

I raised an eyebrow, amused by his confidence. "What's your name, young man?"

"Jerry Jenkins, sir," he replied with a slight bow.

"Nice to meet you, Jenkins. My name's Nicholas, but feel free to call me Nick," I said, extending a hand.

He shook it firmly. "Pleasure's mine, Nick."

Not a named NPC from Questworks, then. That was a relief. I'd been half-expecting another important character like Wilkins to show up, dragging me into a storyline I wasn't ready to tackle. There was too much to learn about this world before I could start meddling in major events.

"Do you have a fitting room here?" I asked.

Jerry gestured toward the back of the shop. "Right this way, Nick."

I followed him to a modest fitting room and changed into my newly enchanted suit. The fabric felt smoother, almost like it was brand new, and it carried a faint magical warmth that was oddly comforting.

"How do I use the Clean magic embedded in the suit?" I asked, stepping out and adjusting the cuffs.

Jerry folded his arms and explained, "The enchantment activates automatically every 72 hours, keeping the suit pristine. If it suffers a stain, dirt, or impurity bigger than your pinky finger, it'll clean itself immediately. If you can channel mana, you can also infuse it manually to trigger the effect."

"That's convenient," I said, nodding.

"However," he added, "the enchantment has limits. If the stain is bigger than the surface of your palm—like, say, if someone pours soup all over you—it won't clean itself. You'll need to have it dry-cleaned in that case."

"Noted," I replied, smoothing down the front of the suit. "Thanks for the thorough explanation, Jenkins. It's been a pleasure doing business with you."

"The pleasure's all mine, Nick," he said with a polite smile.

Leaving Arcane Embers, I spotted a homeless man huddled against the side of a building. Without much thought, I approached him, holding the spare suit I'd just swapped out of.

"It's yours now," I said, handing it over. "Wear it, sell it, wreck it—I don't care."

The man blinked up at me, startled, but took the suit without a word.

With that out of the way, I hailed a passing carriage. "Silvermire Inn," I instructed the driver, settling back into the seat.

When I arrived at the inn, I wasn't surprised to see Jeff. Somehow, I'd known he would be there, waiting. He sat at a table near the corner, nervously wringing his hands. I walked over, pulled out a chair opposite him, and sat down.

"Waitress!" I called, catching the attention of a woman nearby.

She approached, her smile polite but practiced. "How may I be of service, sir?"

"Stew," I said simply.

The waitress turned to Jeff. "And for your companion, sir?"

Jeff hesitated, glancing at me nervously before mumbling, "A glass of water."

The waitress rolled her eyes but didn't say anything, turning on her heel and heading toward the kitchen.

I leaned back in my chair, studying Jeff. "I hope you have good news for me."

Jeff nodded quickly and slid a folder across the table. "I did as you told me to… I compiled them… information you want."

I opened the folder and thumbed through its contents. It looked surprisingly thorough: newspaper clippings, scribbled notes, and what seemed to be firsthand observations.

"I'm surprised you can read and write," I said, raising an eyebrow. "Makes me wonder what made you think trying to rob me with your goons was a good idea."

Jeff flinched but didn't answer.

I closed the folder and placed it on the table. "This is about the local gangs and the underworld, I take it?"

Jeff nodded again, his gaze fixed on the table. "I… know a smart urchin who helped me compile it. She can read and write. Please… Lord… may I go now?"

She? Urchin?

I smirked. "Why the hurry? You haven't even had your glass of water yet."

Jeff looked like he wanted to crawl under the table and disappear, but he stayed seated, clearly too afraid to make a run for it.

The waitress returned with my stew and Jeff's water, setting them down with a faintly disapproving sniff. 

"Take your time," I told Jeff, pushing his water toward him. "You've done good work. Relax for a bit. We have a lot to talk about."

He stared at the glass as if it were poisoned, but eventually, he picked it up and took a sip. I turned my attention to the stew, savoring the warmth and flavor as I mulled over the information in the folder.

If the underworld of Amsten was as lackluster as Jeff's notes suggested, I might have more opportunities here than I'd originally thought.