CHAPTER 06
Luferne explained with a grave expression:
“[The fact that he has no fixed attribute is a power in itself. He can absorb any kind of mana without conflict.]”
Rosha, who had been slumped in the armchair, suddenly sat up straight.
The cat lounging on her lap yelped and darted away in surprise.
“So that’s how he was able to absorb my mana…”
Frowning, she rubbed her wrist—still recalling the exact sensation of being caught by him the night before.
The feeling of her carefully gathered mana dispersing like smoke had left her utterly drained.
“[Exactly. That’s why you have to be careful not to let your magic touch him when you’re casting. He absorbs the mana, and the spell becomes useless.]”
At Luferne’s warning, Rosha glared at him, fiddling with her earlobe.
“If you’d just led me on the right path…”
Luferne, squirming like he was sitting on needles, quickly added:
“[Also.]”
“Also? There’s more?”
“[I think he can not only absorb mana but also copy other people’s formulas.]”
Luferne recalled the man’s last move:
“[He recreated your exact magic spell.]”
To be able to absorb mana without conflict due to having no attribute—and to even replicate the formulas of others.
That was clearly the ability of a joker.
“[Of course, breaking down the absorbed mana and recomposing the formulas, and executing them with enough power depends on the user’s own abilities.]”
“So he’s basically a guy who steals other people’s formulas.”
Rosha clenched her hand tightly on the armrest.
The cup on the table vibrated slightly with the energy she released.
Gunther, watching from the side, flinched and stepped back.
“[Anyway, be careful. He’s no ordinary opponent.]”
Luferne clicked his tongue in warning.
“[Don’t just charge in like you did yesterday.]”
“So what, just let him do whatever he wants while he’s biting my ear?!”
Recalling the warm breath that had touched her ear, Rosha shivered uncontrollably.
Her earlobes flushed hot.
Still rubbing her ear, Rosha suddenly stood up.
“No. I need to make more magical tools to disguise myself.”
A powerful enemy had appeared.
So she had to become even stronger.
Resolute, Rosha stepped forward with determination.
“Let’s go to Grassen’s general store.”
Seeing her regaining her energy, Luferne nodded.
“[Good idea. But why go that way?]”
Rosha ran in the opposite direction from Luferne’s suggestion, shouting:
“Wait, let me wash my ear first!”
Grassen, the owner of Grassen’s general store, was tending to his worn shop as always.
The creaking floorboards groaned with each step, but he paid them no mind.
He slowly tilted his head, brushing his white, thinning hair back with a deeply wrinkled hand.
Blinking several times at nothing, he finally reached out toward his dusty desk.
The drawer creaked open.
“Must be getting close to death.”
Inside the drawer sat a pair of old magnifying glasses.
Grassen picked them up in one hand and a dry cloth in the other.
His slow movements, as if carrying the weight of years, carefully wiped the lenses.
“Lately, I keep seeing things that aren’t there…”
He muttered to himself, placing the glasses on his nose.
The shop bell rang—only one person entered.
“Why does it keep looking like there’s something else lingering…”
Grassen blinked and scanned the shop through his glasses.
His lone customer was a young woman with amethyst-colored eyes, curiously examining the dusty wares.
“Should I go with red this time?”
Rosha, fully absorbed in the colorful stones, didn’t notice Grassen’s confusion.
Red hair and red eyes—at night, it would look like blood.
Imagining herself with that look, she browsed the display of minerals.
“Or maybe blue?”
Since she needed to sneak into places and steal things, hiding her appearance was essential.
But her magical affinity was far from illusion or deception.
So she needed magical tools as catalysts—and had come herself to buy materials.
“Ooh, there’s even rainbow-colored ones.”
Seeing her so excited, Luferne chuckled and offered advice:
“[Still, wouldn’t black be the safest? You don’t want to be seen at night.]”
But Rosha, dazzled by the colorful gems, wasn’t listening at all.
“I’ll definitely need different colors.”
Confident, she swept up all the colored stones—red, blue, even rainbow.
She also grabbed a few sheets of parchment for scroll-making.
Counting her coins carefully, she paid and even thanked the shopkeeper politely.
“Thank you very much.”
Leaving a bewildered Grassen behind, Rosha stepped out, her bag full of purchases.
The bell rang again as the door shut behind her.
Cold wind brushed her cheeks.
A white puff of breath escaped with her annoyed mutter:
“If not for him, I’d still be in bed. When am I going to turn all this into magic tools?”
Making multi-attribute magical tools was a hassle.
All because of that man.
As Rosha grumbled, Luferne laughed in disbelief.
“[If it’s such a pain, why’d you buy every color?]”
“…Because they’re pretty.”
“[So in the end, you wanted to do it.]”
Caught dead-on, Rosha ignored him and changed the subject.
“Maybe I’ll make rings instead of earrings this time.”
“[Why? Planning to wear matching accessories in every color now?]”
Rosha shook her head vigorously.
“If he bites my ear again, I’m in trouble! I just want to do things perfectly…”
Rubbing her ear again, a sudden thought struck her.
What if he bit her finger while she was wearing a ring?
She imagined him staring at her finger, his deep green eyes locked on while her hand was in his mouth…
The thought made her shiver.
Rosha tightly clutched her fur-lined cloak to shake off the creepy mental image.
“Ugh! Let’s just hurry home!”
As she rushed off, Luferne suggested:
“[Since we’re out, want to stop by the grocery store?]”
Rosha glanced at the bustling street and whispered:
“Sure. Let’s take the shortcut.”
She turned into a narrow alley between buildings.
Although it was midday, the shadowy corridor was cloaked in darkness.
A cold breeze skimmed her skin.
As they walked, Rosha suddenly tilted her head and asked:
“Wait. Why the grocery store? We still have food at home.”
“[I developed a new recipe. I need ingredients. Have you heard of bracken?]”
“What’s that?”
“[It’s a plant that looks like a baby’s hand. I’m going to make spaghetti out of it.]”
At his reply, Rosha’s face went pale. She clapped a hand over her mouth.
“Ugh! Are you trying to make me eat weird stuff again?!”
Luferne couldn’t eat, being a spirit. So everything he cooked, Rosha had to eat.
Still, he insisted on experimenting with new recipes—and Rosha was his taste tester.
It was torturous.
Seeing her scowl, Luferne protested:
“[It only turns out weird because you mess it up. My recipes are always flawless.]”
Rosha turned her head away sharply, platinum hair fluttering behind her.
With a nostalgic expression, she stared into the distance, wind brushing her cheek.
“If your recipe was flawless, why did your lasagna taste like feet?”
“[Because you ignored me and added blue cheese! Lasagna must have—]”
As Luferne launched into a lecture about the greatness of his recipes, Rosha cut him off.
“Here we go again. The Gospel of Luferne’s Cooking.”
His lectures, once started, were endless.
She shuddered and picked up her pace to escape.
As she turned a corner, Luferne shouted after her:
“[Wait! Rosha—look out! You’ll bump into—]”
Rosha glanced back at him and scoffed:
“I know this path better than you. Last night, you’re the one who ran into the wall.”
Thud.
Her shoulder collided with someone massive—like a brick wall.
“Ah!”
Startled by the impact, she dropped her items.
The gemstones and parchment from Grassen’s store spilled to the ground.
Rosha quickly bent down to pick them up, eyes tracking the falling goods.
“I’m sorry. I was in a hurry…”
As she apologized, a gruff, unfamiliar voice cut in:
“What, so just saying sorry makes it all okay?”
She froze.
A chill ran down her spine.
No… it couldn’t be…
Rosha slowly looked up to see the person blocking her way.
As she blinked in disbelief, the voice rang out again:
“You came out of nowhere and nearly gave me a heart attack, and all I get is sorry?”
A hulking thug sneered, spitting a glob of phlegm as he swaggered on one leg.
As Rosha quietly stood up, one of the other men—sensing something dangerous in her gleaming eyes—stepped in.
“Karl, don’t be so rough.”
He took a step toward Rosha, the scar under his left eye more visible up close.
As he smiled, the scar twisted grotesquely with his eye.
“You scared the pretty lady. It’s not like she meant it.”
He patted his companion on the shoulder, then turned to Rosha:
“He’s just hot-headed, not some thug who’d shake you down or beat you for bumping into him.”
His calm tone made it sound exactly like he was that kind of thug.
“We may look rough, but we’ve got kind hearts.”
Rosha bit her lip, eyes narrowing at the men surrounding her.
