Klein was discharged the next day. He had felt better by yesterday’s evening, but he didn’t feel like springing up to something else just yet. In the end though, his new skill and the system pieces called to him enough, that he decided he wanted a leave later that night. They didn’t allow that of course, so Klein spent the rest of his time in the hospital changing many blankets and curtains to different levels of densities and elasticities with various reflections, as a petty protest.

  When he walked out, he felt good about his modification. It was good training, and he hadn’t done more than just very tiny changes.

  They’d thank me later.

  Or they probably would curse him, but Klein wouldn’t be there to see that reaction.

  He headed directly to his dorm room after the discharge, the wish to study his ability in depth and discover more facets of it burned within him. Till now he had only tried to change some very small parameters and get a feel for the skill. He hadn’t wanted to spook the hospital too much by showcasing his skills, and effectively out himself.

  He also wished to make a journey to the academy library as soon as he could. There was a line in the system screen that bugged him a little. More than a little, actually. It was his class: Alchemist.

  The world had apothecaries who could use various herbs and plants, and animal parts to create potions and balms for various effects. And there also existed spells and Stiffers like Klein that could change materials.

  But an Alchemist was the title only given to one person as of yet in this world. Taghir Dehid.

  Moving through the hallways, he reached his dorm, only to find someone standing in front of his gate. It was Alain. He hadn’t seen his friend in a few days. Ever since that day in the canteen. He didn’t even know if his friend visited him while he was hospitalised.

  Alain turned at the inception of noise down the hall, and stared wide eyed at the approaching Klein. He smiled feebly, and waved. Klein returned the wave and walked to his room.

  “What brings you here?” He unlocked his room and walked in. The air inside was stale from days of no activity. He opened his window and let the fresh air rush in and fill life in the dead room.

  “Have you not opened that window in ages?” Alain asked as he made his way in the room and sat on one of the chairs. From third year on, every student received a personal room, and with it one chair and desk. Klein liked to keep one or two more as he met Alain and Amelia often enough to discuss the business details.

  “You do know that I’ve been hospitalised, right?” Klein asked, incredulous.

  “What!?” Alain startled.

  “Alain… a student literally died. How do you not know about it?” Klein frowned, a hint of irritation grew in him at this behaviour.

  “I did hear about it… some McFonna girl or something. I didn’t know you were involved in that incident too…” Alain looked away, unable to face Klein head on.

  “Riley McHonna, first of all. And yes, I was involved in it. I, too, almost died. We were attacked by three mages, bandits or whatever they were. Ugh, actually you know what? Nevermind that, what did you come here for?” Klein thought that this conversation had shed a lot of light to the current status of their friendship. A relation bound by business and money, where they both could handle only so much of each other.

  “It was… about the business. Since the exams ended, me and Amelia would be going home for the two week break. But recently someone contacted us for an order. It’s an individual buyer, and they want twenty blankets in a few days. Apparently they have some sort of wedding, and they want these blankets at a cheap price urgently. They said they don’t care if the blankets would be torn in a few washes as they only need it for the guests.

  “We have around 16-17 blankets in our inventory, and I can make the rest today before I go, but you’d have to handle the delivery and any specifications they want. Can you do it?” Alain explained.

  “How much are they quoting the price?” Klein asked.

  “4 silver per blanket, for a total of 80 silver coins,”

  “That’s very low, even for us. But it’s not like we can do anything else with the blankets wasting in our garage. Might as well sell them and earn a quick buck,” I can also test how well my evolved skill helps with the business.

  “So we take the order?” Alain asked.

  “Yes. Give me their contact frequency, and their address, I’ll talk to them about it more in detail later on,” Alain brought his anchor and with a strand of mana, copy pasted the frequency range into Klein’s anchor.

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  Anchors were a marvel of creation, as far Klein was concerned. They helped you contact anyone in a city’s range, they made life easy, and it made commerce boom unlike anything. It worked on a certain frequency range of world mana. It wasn’t possible earlier, but ever since the System War when the world mana shifted patterns and became out of phase with itself, such channels and long ranges of mana were created and exploited by people for their use.

  “Then I’ll let them know you’ll be contacting them,” Alain stood but hesitated to move. He wished to speak something, but eventually chose silence. He left with a simple “see you later” and a thud of the door behind him.

  Klein sighed and moved to his bed. He levitated his slinky out of his drawers, managing a feat of opening the drawer and bringing the slinky out without straining himself too much. He prouded himself for his shaping abilities.

  His former slinky had, very unfortunately, been destroyed or lost in the middle of the fight. All he knew was that he woke up without it, and he wasn’t going to question Carell about the fate of his slinky. Thankfully he always kept an extra one in his drawer. These things were cheap after all.

  He placed it in his hands, and felt its structure in detail. It was made of a hard plastic, rolled in coils and coils like a spring. It had lost its springiness in its time, and became less elastic with time. He strove to change it.

  He activated the skill again, the activation much more natural at this point, and he felt it take effect on the resting spring in his hands. He chose not to induce any reflections.

  With a growing certainty of his skill, he let the spring stretch, and was pleasantly surprised to find it just the way he remembered it all those weeks ago when he brought it.

  I basically have an infinite loop of perfectly springy slinkies.

  It was easy, it was simple, it was fun. Although over the years he had grown used to only being able to change the softness of a material, he had also dearly wished that maybe someday he could do something more than that.

  Seeing it come true today in this way felt cathartic, like a release from the demons he didn’t even know bound him. He felt like he could do anything.

  He tested his skill on many different things then. Like making his pillow rock hard, making paper malleable–he also tried hammering it, and the experience felt surreal in many many ways– creating brittle nails that broke with just a bit of effort, plasticity of chairs, and so much more. He could even change the density of his table, making it super light, and easy to carry around.

  By the end of his mad creative journey, Klein had a room full of things with conflicting properties and an empty mana tank. He rested on the ground–the only place left unscathed under his madness–and waited for his mana pool to be restored so that he could fix everything again.

  He played with a soft nail as he deliberated, The experiment has made it clear that I don’t have a high enough level in the skill. The changes I can induce aren’t very strong, just noticeable. I’d need tons more practice before it can become combat ready.

  The only part of the skill which I’m best at is the softness manipulation. I suppose my mastery at it carried over. It makes sense since it’s only an evolution, and not a complete rewrite of the skill.

  I should head to the library.

  I should also call the buyers later today. Some extra money would certainly come in handy.

  I am really hungry. I wish some food could land on my lap right now. If I evolve this skill enough, can I transmute biomolecules and create food? Can I make food from myself? That’s a gross thought.

  I want more system pieces. But where would I even get anymore? It was just a stroke of luck, no need to think more into it.

  After more than ten minutes of pointless deliberations, he grew bored enough to actively try and refill his mana pool rather than take the passive route. Within the next minutes of concentrated meditation, his mana pool was topped up again, and he went around the room and undone changes he didn’t like, and kept the ones he actually preferred.

  After tidying up his room a little, he headed for the academy library.

  #

  The Academy Library was a grand institution. It towered over most of the buildings in the campus, with towering spires and spikes all around it. It also had the most robust collection of the most random knowledge in the whole nation.

  Klein walked through the towering high gates–embossed with figures of the great founders of the academy–and was greeted with the busy yet quiet atmosphere of the library.

  Shelves upon shelves of books lay sprawled along the area of the library with benches between them where kids and many adults focused on their own studies. There were floors above, which rose to meet the demands of the accumulated knowledge stored in the place, going at least four stories high.

  Klein walked up to the librarian’s desk; a counter where an old lady sat idly, reading a book of her own. She looked up to him as he approached, and he distinctly had this feeling that she didn’t like him very much already.

  “Excuse me, do you know where I could find some books on the System War? And maybe you can recommend a good one?” He tried his best smile anyway. It probably didn't matter much, if the way she looked at him was any indication, but oh well.

  “You can try ‘Systematic Approach to the System War’ for a clear context, and the parties involved in it. It’s in aisle 3b. If you wish for more of a post-war study on its effects, then I’d recommend, ‘A Chaos after the System’. It’s in aisle 3c. You may go now.” She brokered no arguments at that, already delving into her book.

  Klein thanked her and went away. He found the books where she told him, and very quickly rented them for his reading.

  Moving through the campus towards his room with the books in his hand, he felt that the day was surprisingly good today. He had received an order, gained some new powers, and would probably find some answers in the book. What could ruin all this?

  A sharp honking sound suddenly rang behind him, and Klein stopped in his tracks. Shivers crawled through his skin, and he felt fear cloud his mind for a second. The next instant he thought that maybe he had imagined the sound.

  It came again, more incessant this time. Klein spun carefully as he clutched the books in his hands. In front of him, standing just at a mere height of 70 cm, was the goose. It was the same damn goose.

  Klein threw a book at the goose.

  #