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After being shown to the room where Grandpa’s old works were kept, Philip said he had work to do and immediately went back downstairs.

It seemed really busy down below that the noise was audible even all the way up here.

“Well then, Sufi will wait there.”
“Okay.”

When I sat down in front of the barrier magic tool, Sufi said she’d wait a little ways off. After sniffing something covered in cloth, she grimaced and covered her mouth. …It was dusty, huh.

Enough staring. Shall we get to work?

Still, I’m supposed to handle a magic tool without even a blueprint to guide me. My only guides are my senses, memory, and knowledge. No ordinary alchemist could handle this.

Grandpa’s specialty was magic tools… more precisely, their miniaturization.

Long ago, barrier magic tools were apparently massive affairs, requiring multiple towers erected throughout a city to activate them.

The standard method for creating magic tools was to engrave a magic circle derived from array magic onto an object, then channel magical power through it. This allows anyone to activate its intended effect.

This technique evolved specifically for magic tool development and is now an independent field called Imbued Magic.

Items created using this technology are fundamentally called magic implements or magic items.

Those whose principles remain utterly incomprehensible yet exhibit extraordinary effects are classified as Treasured Tool or Divine Relics based on their potency, collectively termed ‘Artifacts of the Gods’.

The latter category includes things like the mysterious black pocket that I stuck to my stomach or the enigmatic lantern tied to my tail with a random string.

Even if analyzed, they appear to be nothing more than ordinary cloth pockets or paper crafts, yet in reality, their interiors connect to alternate dimensions, or they can manipulate shadows illuminated by flames of unknown fuel at will.

It’s akin to the difference between machines and item-type Unknowns in my previous world.

For example, a drone made with science and technology is a magic tool, while an ordinary stone picked up on a riverbank suddenly transforms into the shape of a crab and flying into the sky is a Divine Relic. …Then again, I never understood what that crab Unknown was and why it soared into the sky.

Either way, due to their manufacturing process, the core needed to control magic tools grows infinitely larger the more elaborate and complex they are. This is because physical space is required to write the magical arrays.

Grandpa’s main research was all about scaling those arrays down.

Based on Analysis, this portable size has an effective range of about 50 meters radius. Even now, I think it’s still a pretty powerful magic tool.

The potion had to be turned into steam in order to be sprayed, and repeated use of it must have caused its interior to deteriorate… but why didn’t they do any proper repairs after using it so much?

Tilting my head, I used Forging to smooth out the scratches and dents on the pipe and inside the pot.

As countermeasures against unintended alchemical interference, there exist techniques to solidify structures, encrypt surfaces susceptible to interference, or infuse the interior with magical energy. Alchemy takes time to interfere with or alter substances due to high density or surface structures.

Furthermore, when an object is saturated with internal magical energy, it generates resistance to external magical interference, rendering alchemy ineffective from the start.

This is why alchemy doesn’t work on living beings that can absorb ether, convert it into magical energy, and store it.

This countermeasure was also perfectly implemented here.

Come to think of it, I often played some puzzle games with Grandpa.

The rule of the game was for me to use alchemy to deform a block of metal Grandpa made hard to manipulate, and I had to bypass all the countermeasures Grandpa put on it. It felt like playing a puzzle game. Then again, I got so absorbed in it I ran a fever and got scolded by Sufi.

As I solved more and more of his puzzles, Grandpa must have gotten serious too, because halfway through, they all became genuinely difficult. Like that puzzle game before last year’s exams—he gave me something like an alloy of Gravitite and Adamantite, which took an insane amount of time just to mess with normally.

I cleared it right at the 30-minute limit, but when he just gave me a wry smile despite my effort… Well, that really pissed me off a bit.

Either way, this magic tool is built completely differently from any of Grandpa’s magic tools I’ve seen.

It’s forcibly fused together, and the copper tubing’s surface is coated with an incredibly dense metal. Frankly, it’s crude.

After carefully smoothing it out without damaging the coating, I recalled the spell formula stored deep in my memory and began carving it into the even surface.

What was carved in were basic barrier spells, along with the circulation, vibration, and heat generation needed to activate them… that sort of spell formula.

They must have added more and more as they built it. The spells crammed into the narrow interior looked like a tangled mess of spaghetti at first glance.

But I’d spent all yesterday thinking it through, and I understood the theory behind how it worked. It’s just a repair job, so for now, I just need to recreate it.

“Engrave.”

Engrave is less about carving and more about finely raising the surface through alchemy. It allows for much finer, cleaner inscribe than an alchemy array. The precision difference is like scraping clay with a spatula versus carving it with a needle.

Normally, you wouldn’t be able to engrave an array this fine, but that’s where the lantern plays the part.

Just like the puzzle games, all I needed to do was guess where the engraved parts were and fill in the missing parts myself to recreate the whole thing, so the reinscribe was done quickly. If I’d been told to improve it to make it easier to repair, I honestly wouldn’t have known what to do, but just restoring it to its original state wasn’t difficult.

Then, just encrypt the surface like before and harden it.

“Forging, Hardening.”

I solidified it more carefully than the original state. Now it couldn’t be easily tampered with or scraped away.

Finally, I checked it with “Analysis”… The spell connections seemed fine too.

“Sufi, go get Mr. Philip.”
“Hm? Is it done?”
“Yep.”
“Got it! I’ll go get him, so don’t go anywhere.”

Sufi was exploring the room out of boredom when I tasked her to fetch Philip, and she dashed out of the room.

A few minutes later, Philip returned with a puzzled look on his face, led by a pouting Sufi.

“Did something happen?”
“Alice said she was done, but he won’t believe me!”
“I see… Well, the repair is done. Please check it.”

I calmed Sufi, who looked ready to throw a tantrum, and asked him to check it. We needed to get the fuel potion ready.

“…It hasn’t even been half an hour yet?”

Philip frowned, glancing at his pocket watch. Come to think of it, the apprentice of Gregorius the Alchemist of Gold was supposedly a clockmaker. I guess clocks exist here too. Grandpa had one, but from what I remember… a day here is 24 hours too.

Well, obviously I can’t make a whole clock myself.

“It was just a matter of putting it back together, so it took less time than expected.”
“…Even the magic tool specialist we called couldn’t do anything about it, and they were an Adeptus Minor… I’ll get the fuel right away.”

If that’s the case, then don’t assign it to a Practica like me. I only took it because it seemed manageable.

With a bit of dissatisfaction in my heart, I waited until Philip returned carrying a large bottle of red liquid.

“Sorry to keep you waiting. Let’s try it right away.”
“Mm.”

Philip poured the red liquid in and channeled activation magic into the magic tool. The pot began to vibrate, and the steam it produced filled the pipes. I guess he’s using a type of potion that doesn’t degrade from heat since it’s being vaporized.

“…It’s activating properly.”

After a while, there was a hissing sound as air escaped, and white mist overflowed from the pipes. It spread out, thinly covering the floor and enveloping the room.

The room gradually filled with a faint mist.

“Hmm, it seems to be working.”
“Sufi, get back.”
“Got it.”

After motioning for Sufi, who had been sniffing the mist curiously near the entrance, to step back, I pretended to take something from my coat’s inner pocket, pulled out a nut, and tossed it outside the room.

Then I flicked the hastily made shadow alchemy circle.

“Forging”

When I forcibly deformed half of the nut as if crushing it all at once, it couldn’t withstand the change and popped with a bang. This is a typical failure phenomenon—if the circle is sloppy or you misjudge the force, even metal will explode like this.

The fragments of the nut that flew back couldn’t pass the entrance, instead bouncing off and falling as if they had struck a transparent wall. As a barrier, it’s a simple effect: it blocks impacts above a certain threshold coming from outside.

If someone gets close, they can slip inside, but barriers in this world are generally meant to stop long-range attacks. Barriers that completely shut everything out are, on the contrary, hard to handle.

“Impressive. Looks like the job’s done.”

Philip, who seemed to have been running an ‘Analysis’ spell, threw up his hands in surrender.

“Honestly, I thought it would take longer.”
“It ended sooner than I expected.”
“So it was faster than estimated. As expected of the Old Master’s direct disciple.”

If I tried to reorganize the spell formula for clarity or improve it from scratch, it wouldn’t have been this simple.

Upon unraveling it, I found it was just a tangled mess of various spell formulas crammed into that space. The actual effects were just combinations of simple ones.

“I’ll have your payment ready at reception. Pick it up there.”
“Mm.”
“I have another job I’d like to assign you. Would that be alright?”
“Only if you’d listen to what I ask for.”

One task finished, but it seemed plenty more work awaited.

The income was welcome, and I had things I wanted done, so it worked out perfectly.

“Asking for a favor? I’ll do what I can, within reason.”
“Yeah, ore materials, travel gear, tools for the journey, stuff like that.”
“…Hmm, and you sure you want them as your payment?”

Philip frowned, perhaps considering the conversion rates or the hassle of procuring them, but that wasn’t what I meant.

“The shops in town won’t sell to beastkin. I want you to buy them for us.”
“…………Ah, I can introduce you to an apprentice who’s free and seems trustworthy.”
“Mm.”

Not expecting such a problem, Philip struck his temple.

I get it’s a hassle. But unless you’re overflowing with personal virtue or charm, overcoming deep-rooted discrimination on your own is basically impossible.

Having someone else buying our stuff for us would be most reassuring.

And so, my first job wrapped up smoothly. Labor is surprisingly fun.