Chapter 56 The Blacksmith’s Dilemma
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
After Dahlia swore her loyalty to me as her master, the city mayor strode into the room. Her eyes widened at Dahlia’s lack of clothing, but noticing her unmarred skin, she quickly tempered her anger.
”So, Tatara, how’d you handle it?” she asked, her tone sharp but curious.
”I used an Artificial Essence Core,” I replied.
”When did you… oh, that.”
Her expression flickered with realization, likely recalling my explanation about the Philosopher’s Seed. She exhaled, then turned to Dahlia with a composed smile.
”Nice to meet you. As the chief administrator of this city, I must ask you to explain the situation and handle the residency paperwork.”
”Yes,” Dahlia said, her voice steady. “If possible, I’d like to apply for permanent residency.”
”Oh? You’ve decided to make this city your home?” The mayor’s eyes softened.
”Yes, though it comes with conditions.” Dahlia glanced at me, and the mayor’s gaze followed. Her look screamed, What did you do this time, Tatara?
”The condition involves Tatara, doesn’t it?” she asked, eyebrow raised.
”Yes. My master gave me the Philosopher’s Seed with one order: ‘Be happy.’ So, I’ll stay by his side to find that happiness.”
The mayor’s stare carried a mix of exasperation and amusement, as if to say, You’re hopeless, Tatara. Still, I couldn’t let someone ready to give up on life slip away without saying something like that.
”And this ‘master’ is…?” the mayor prompted.
”When my master gave me a new core, he designated Tatara Julon as my master. Thus, Tatara Julon is my master.”
The mayor’s expression shifted, a silent What about Ethelena? etched on her face. Please, don’t look at me like that. I’m already dreading Ethelena’s lecture tonight… maybe I’ll ask her to wear a tracksuit and bloomers to lighten the mood.
”Understood. I’ll prepare the paperwork to reflect that,” the mayor said. “Dahlia-san, do you have a family name?”
”No. I was only given the name Dahlia.”
”Then, from today, you’ll be Dahlia Julon. That’s your name now.”
”Yes, my master. Dahlia Julon… it has a nice ring to it,” Dahlia said, her voice soft but firm.
”Yeah, you even look like my sister with that name,” I teased.
The mayor shot me a warning glance. “Tatara, watch yourself, or you’ll get stabbed!”
What’s that supposed to mean?
At the hospital reception, I paid the hefty surgical fees. The doctor, still marveling at Dahlia’s recovery, beamed with genuine joy. Dahlia bowed politely, thanking him for saving her life—her manners spoke of good upbringing. Since insurance didn’t cover the procedure, the bill hit seven figures, but I pulled the cash from my Inventory and settled it in one go. The receptionist’s jaw practically hit the floor, though the doctor seemed unsurprised, as if he knew I could manage it.
Our first stop after leaving the hospital was to buy Dahlia some clothes. Letting her wander in just a shirt was out of the question. We hit my usual lingerie shop, where the familiar clerk helped us out.
”Master, my size is 65A,” Dahlia stated boldly.
”Don’t just blurt that out to me! Tell the clerk!” I hissed, flustered.
That exchange was… let’s just say mentally taxing, so I’ll skip the details. Next, we visited a nearby clothing store. The prices were steep, but it’s wise to have a few nice outfits for unexpected meetings with self-important officials. When Dahlia asked for my preference, I suggested a dress. She returned with a pale pink dress and a short white cardigan. Trying it on, her slender frame radiated a refined elegance, like a high-class ojou-sama.
”Wow, it suits you perfectly. Your natural beauty shines through. Shall we get it?”
”…Yes, my master.”
Her reaction seemed off, a bit stiff. What’s wrong?
The clerk recommended a black dress shirt and white high-waisted trousers. When Dahlia tried them on, they gave her a striking, androgynous charm—cute yet sharp, her poised expression drawing the eye.
”This looks fantastic. The androgynous style suits you perfectly, especially with your refined features. Let’s get these too.”
”…Y-Yes, my master.”
Her movements grew even stiffer, and the clerk stifled a chuckle. Dahlia decided to wear the clerk’s recommended outfit out of the store, so we had the dress and cardigan wrapped up. I added a white ribbon to her purchase, tying her short black hair into a neat ponytail. The delicate lace ribbon complemented her look perfectly, earning a small round of applause from the clerk. She also suggested a vibrant red ribbon with gold threading, and, well, I couldn’t resist buying that too. That clerk’s a master salesperson.
As we walked to the city hall, heads turned—men and women alike stealing glances at Dahlia. She noticed, her expression tinged with unease.
”Master, people are staring.”
”Of course they are. You’re stunning, so you’re bound to draw attention.”
”…Do you flirt with everyone so effortlessly, master?”
”Why does it always come to that?” I sighed. Talk about unfair reputational damage.
Amid this banter, we reached the vigilante corps’ guard post. A squad leader-looking guy was returning just as we arrived. Spotting me, he spat out his drink, dousing the poor soul in front of him.
”T-T-T-T-Tatara-san!?” he stammered.
”Hey, I’m here to get an interrogation record,” I said calmly.
He ushered us to a seat with exaggerated politeness. Turns out, he was the squad leader from that incident. Guess I’ll keep calling him Squad Leader in my head.
”Let’s start over,” he said, composing himself.
”Yes, please,” I replied.
The Squad Leader and a subordinate took our interrogation record. Partway through, paperwork from the city mayor arrived, and we completed the process without issue.
”Oh, one more thing,” I said. “I’d like to get feedback from the vigilante corps members on duty. Could you gather them in the conference room?”
”Uh, sure, I’ll call them,” the Squad Leader replied.
He arranged the conference room and rallied the members. The front-row seats sparked a surprising scramble—is it really that serious? But then, the Squad Leader had mentioned my Adhesive Projectile Device saved lives. Naturally, they’d want details on new equipment. I handed Dahlia an Arcane Text Projector, boosting its output to display images on the conference room’s white wall. The members gasped, but the real discussion was about to begin.
”What I want your input on is the next model of the Adhesive Projectile Device,” I announced.
The room buzzed with excitement. Good. They’re engaged.
”The field teams have long requested a rapid-fire personal weapon,” I began. “Currently, squad members coordinate to lay down a barrage. But when we need to split personnel across multiple locations, our firepower dwindles. With large-scale crimes on the rise, we’ve considered a Multi-Shot Model to address these scenarios.”
The conference room buzzed with excitement, a bright atmosphere filling the space. Good. They’re hooked.
”Here are three Multi-Shot Models for your feedback,” I said, nodding to Dahlia. She switched the Arcane Text Projector’s display, revealing the first design: a rotary model with multiple cylinders beneath the barrel. I’d drawn inspiration from grenade launchers in my previous life.
”This one prioritizes portability and ammo capacity,” I explained. “It holds six rounds, is half the size of the original Adhesive Projectile Device, and weighs about 40% less.”
The room hummed with murmurs. Yeah, those specs sound impressive. But there were trade-offs.
”The downsides? Maintenance is trickier due to the complex mechanism. We’d also need to develop new, smaller projectiles with less adhesive per shot. Plus, it requires retraining, as it handles differently from the original.”
Reactions varied—some members debated the pros and cons, weighing the benefits against the challenges. Then, a hand shot up.
”Yes, you there. Your question?” I called.
”Thank you,” said the First Corps Member. “Can’t we use the original projectiles with this mechanism?”
”There are issues,” I replied. “Using the original projectiles limits capacity to three rounds. Their weight strains the mechanism, increasing malfunctions. And the recoil could knock some users off their feet.”
Gasps rippled through the room. I signaled Dahlia to display the original design.
”The original model,” I continued, “is essentially a single cylinder. It counters recoil by expelling gas from the rear, achieving near-zero kickback. This allowed larger projectiles without issues.”
Some members, likely maintenance crew, leaned forward, engrossed. Hope they’re soaking up the technical know-how.
”With the Multi-Shot Model, we reduced weight for portability, but that makes it too light for large projectiles, amplifying recoil. Hence, we need smaller, specialized projectiles. Does that answer your question?”
”Yes, thank you,” the First Corps Member said, bowing politely before sitting.
”Next model,” I announced.
Dahlia projected the second design, resembling the original but with a cartridge slot at the rear. The room stirred again.
”This one adds a feeding mechanism to the original design,” I said. “We’re debating whether the cartridge loads from below or above, but the difference is minor. It holds five rounds, with near-identical handling, so no retraining is needed.”
The room buzzed with excitement. All good news so far. But there were flaws.
”The catch? It’s 30% heavier than the original, and with five rounds, the total weight jumps by about 50%. The cartridge also throws off the balance.”
Groans echoed through the room. Guess the original’s weight was already a sore point.
Another hand went up. “Yes, your question?” I prompted.
”Thank you,” said the Second Corps Member. “You mentioned a 50% weight increase. What specifically causes it?”
I had Dahlia display both designs side by side. “The feeding mechanism requires thicker materials for durability and additional parts, driving up weight.”
”Can’t you lighten it?” he asked.
”It’s possible, but it introduces new problems,” I said, hesitating. I’d rather not dive into this.
The room murmured. “First option: switch to materials like Mythical Lightweight Metal or Rare Alchemical Alloy. That reduces weight below the original’s.”
”Mythical Lightweight Metal or Rare Alchemical Alloy?” the Second Corps Member echoed.
”Yeah, but don’t ask about the cost,” I warned. “Even if the vigilante corps downsized, you wouldn’t afford it for a decade.”
Mythical Lightweight Metal is pricey, but with Rare Alchemical Alloy, I’m the only certified crafter, spiking costs further. Using it just for the mechanism section would balloon the Adhesive Projectile Device’s price from 30,000 to nearly 280,000. No way that’s feasible.
”The other option?” he pressed.
”I make every unit myself,” I said.
The room stirred. The Adhesive Projectile Device was designed for mass production using standard techniques. My Mana-Powered Firearm skill allows for powerful but mana-intensive designs. I tweaked it with a scope for accuracy and simplified the structure to lower failure rates, making it craftable with Basic Alchemical Crafting Skill. But crafters still need blueprint literacy.
”With precise material standardization and meticulous measurements, I could build them without changing materials, like crafting an art piece.”
But the merchant guild and the city mayor would have my head. Crafting weapons with no reproducibility using pure skill is a no-go.
”The problem? The city mayor banned me from crafting non-reproducible items for mass use,” I explained. “For custom Explorer Equipment, fine. But for vigilante corps gear, it’d skyrocket maintenance costs.”
”Why’s that?” the Second Corps Member asked.
”The city mayor—our top crafter—says my ‘Crafting’ lacks reproducibility. Even she questions it.”
The maintenance crew paled, likely imagining the nightmare of servicing such precise gear. One rough handling, and it’s toast.
”With Rare Alchemical Alloy out of reach and no other solution, we’re stuck with the heavier design. Clear?”
”Yes, thank you,” the Second Corps Member said, sitting down.
The room grew noisy. No surprise. I’ve wrestled with this, and even limiting it to other crafters’ techniques, it’s a tough nut to crack.
”Onto the third model,” I said.
Dahlia projected a design nearly identical to the original. The room murmured, but the Squad Leader caught on.
”A Split-Mechanism Model?” he ventured.
”Exactly,” I confirmed.
”Unlike the previous two, this Split-Mechanism Model is designed for faster reloading to enable rapid fire,” I explained. “The advantage? It operates exactly like the original Adhesive Projectile Device. The downside? Maintenance is trickier due to added parts in the break-action design, and that’s unavoidable.”
I scanned the conference room, taking in the diverse faces—humans, Dwarves, Hobbits, all united by a shared purpose: protecting Whirlwind’s peace. They’re all here for the same reason.
”I’ll provide three prototypes of each model to the vigilante corps for testing. Please use them, identify any flaws, and give feedback on maintenance and performance.”
The room listened intently, each member a professional in their own right. I want to craft something they’ll call their ultimate partner.
”Not all models will be adopted. Cost constraints likely mean only one will make it to production. That’s why I’m entrusting these prototypes to you.”
I hoped my passion reached them.
”I want you—Whirlwind’s heroes—to have a partner you can take pride in. Let me craft that for you. Please.”
I bowed deeply. A collective gasp filled the room, followed by a roar of cheers. Did I get through to them?
”Tatara-san!”
As Dahlia and I left for city hall to handle her paperwork, the Squad Leader called out.
”Why do you go so far to help us?”
I paused, the ache in my chest resurfacing. “Years ago, my parents died in a large-scale subjugation.”
The Squad Leader fell silent.
”Their bodies were returned in pristine condition, thanks to those they saved. I heard stories of vigilante corps members sacrificing themselves to catch criminals, and I saw their comrades weeping over their bodies. It reminded me of myself as a kid.”
He stayed quiet, probably shocked that his hero had such a fragile heart.
”That’s why I want you to come back alive, with tools to safely apprehend enemies. It started as a simple capture device, a spherical container for easy use. Then it evolved into a cannon for long-range, high-speed deployment. And now, you’ve even adapted it for firefighting.”
The Squad Leader listened, despite my childish ramblings. He probably doesn’t want to hear this.
”My help comes from a need to repay my parents’ sacrifice. But seeing you protect Whirlwind’s smiles made me want to support you fully. You called me a hero, but you’re wrong. You’re my ideal hero. So, supporting you is only natural.”
I smiled at him.
”Squad Leader, I have a tough request. Will you hear me out?”
”Yes,” he replied firmly.
”Keep protecting Whirlwind’s peace. I’ll make the tools you need. Please.”
”Yes!” he answered, his voice resolute.
I looked up to see the entire vigilante corps lined up behind him. A rugged, middle-aged man—likely the Captain—barked, “All hands, attention!”
His voice echoed despite the open air. The corps snapped to attention.
”To Tatara Julon, future Chief Crafter, salute!”
In unison, they saluted me. God, they’re so cool. I managed an awkward salute in return, mimicking their stance as best I could.
The meeting with the corps took longer than expected but was more meaningful than I’d hoped. It was a chance to recommit to supporting them with everything I’ve got.
”Master, you look happy,” Dahlia said as we walked.
”It shows that much? I’m thrilled because I can feel my creations protecting people.”
”You’re humble, master.”
”Me? Humble? Hardly. I’m as arrogant and greedy as they come.”
”…Is that some kind of illness?” she asked, her tone tinged with exasperation.
I laughed, walking beside her. Yeah, I’m arrogant and greedy. I don’t want a single one of those heroes to die, and I believe my tools can make that happen. What else do you call that?
”By the way, Dahlia,” I said.
”Yes?”
”We’re almost at city hall. Make sure you fill out the paperwork properly.”
”Of course. I’m fully prepared to list myself as your wife.”
”Absolutely not! My wife is Ethelena.”
She fell silent, looking away.
”Don’t just go quiet and avoid eye contact!”
I thought she was emotionless at first, but Dahlia’s got some serious spunk.
”Then I’ll list myself as a slave,” she replied, unfazed.
”Stop joking! Slavery’s been abolished in Whirlwind. You’d get us arrested.”
Her nonchalance drew a sharp retort from me. Sure, there might be underground markets, but publicly, that’d land us in hot water.
”No choice, then. What should I do, master?”
”Just put yourself as my younger sister-in-law.”
”…Yes, my master,” she replied, her tone dripping with dissatisfaction.
”Oh, one more thing. I’ve got a question about Automaton Maidens.”
”Yes. We’re born only as females and reproduce with males of other races. Offspring are usually Automaton Maidens, but rarely, they take the father’s race and are born male—”
”Sorry, I’m not asking about your biology right now.”
What’s with this sudden lore dump, mech-girl?
”I meant your diet. Do you eat the same food as humans?”
”Yes, I can eat anything. No particular preferences.”
I’d half-expected her to munch on bolts or iron, but she’s just like any organic being. Guess I need to ditch my biases.
”And weapons? I’m planning to make something for you.”
”Without seeing your work, I can’t say. The devices in the conference room were more capture tools than weapons.”
”Fair point. Let me show you something.” I checked our surroundings—empty—then pulled an item from my Inventory: the Impact Spike Driver, ‘Auto Eizul,’ which once split an Orichalcum Golem in half.
”This is my max firepower right now.”
Dahlia took it silently, likely analyzing its structure. It’s a close-range weapon, optimized for raw power but with high energy consumption per shot. She might not like it.
”…It’s magnificent,” she said, eyes sparkling. “This is my destiny, master.”
”Whoa, really?”
”One medium Mana Stone per shot for devastating power. Its weight demands exceptional strength. Crafted from high-density metal, the spike is propelled past sonic speeds via an acceleration Spell Formula, delivering impact to both surface and core, destroying enemies efficiently. It’s the ultimate close-range weapon.”
What’s with this gamer-level enthusiasm?
”If you like it, it’s yours,” I offered.
”Truly?”
”Yeah. It’s my trump card, but it’s situational.”
”Then I accept it gratefully.”
She stored the Impact Spike Driver in her Inventory faster than she’d accepted her new clothes, looking utterly satisfied.
”We’ll need to make you some Mana-Infused Armor too,” I added.
”Regular clothes are enough for me,” she replied.
”No way,” I said. “If something you picked out gets ruined, you’d be heartbroken, right?”
”…Is that how it works?” Dahlia replied, her tone oddly flat.
Is she sulking? Did she figure out I was planning to test a Heavy Alchemical Armor model with a Soul Core for artillery capabilities on her?
”Anyway, for physical firepower, I’m working on a Long-Range Mana Booster for distance. As for magical firepower…”
”Then a sword for close combat, please,” Dahlia interjected. “I’m used to swords from my previous weapon.”
”Got it. I’ll craft a new one.”
Might as well make a Magical Artillery piece too. Depending on Dahlia’s stats, she could take on a ‘Lich,’ expanding her equipment options.
”Speaking of, I haven’t checked your stats yet.”
”You’re right,” Dahlia said. “Knowing my combat potential should reassure you, master. I’ll open my status—”
”No need. I’ll use my Appraisal skill. Cool?”
”Yes, my master.”
With her permission, I activated Appraisal on Dahlia.
Combat Strength: 100/100
HP: 800 (800)
Mana: 500 (500)
Skill Power: 500 (500)
Physical Attack: 300 (300)
Physical Defense: 300 (300)
Magic Attack: 300 (300)
Magic Defense: 300 (300)
Speed: 300 (300)
Luck: 100 (100)
Movement: 10 (99)
Special Abilities: HP Recovery V, Skill Power Recovery V, Mana Recovery V
What the hell are these numbers? I stared, dumbfounded.
”What’s wrong, master?” Dahlia asked.
”Your stats… they’re insanely high.”
”Hmm. They do feel lighter than before,” she said, checking her status. Then she froze. “…They’re about five times higher than when I was defeated.”
”No kidding.”
Even half these stats would make her a rare powerhouse. With the right weapon, she could solo a dragon.
”But this means your Magic Devices might feel less thrilling to use,” she teased.
”What’re you talking about?”
Sure, her Physical Attack could dent an Orichalcum Golem barehanded, but with the Impact Spike Driver, she’d slice it in half.
”Now I know I can beat that enemy if it returns,” she said confidently.
”Don’t get cocky.”
”It’s not cockiness, master. It’s confidence.”
She sounds like some second-generation assassin from a story.
”This Philosopher’s Seed you gave me,” she continued, clenching a fist over her chest, “I won’t let anyone take it. Not even my creator, the Machine God.”
Her eyes burned with resolve. She’s serious.
* * *
At city hall, we wrapped up Dahlia’s paperwork. Despite her playful antics, she was serious during the process. The City Mayor agreed to be her guardian, since I’m apparently too young for the role—a fact I forgot until the clerk pointed it out, leaving me flustered. I owe that woman big time.
”It’s like a fortress,” Dahlia said, eyeing my house.
She’d analyzed the Mythical Lightweight Metal gates and the protective barrier. Sharp as ever.
”I haven’t set it up yet, but I’m planning non-lethal auto-firing Mana-Powered Firearms that detect barrier breaches and target intruders.”
”That’s brilliant,” she said, genuinely impressed.
The City Mayor had a headache over that plan, though.
”I’m home!” I called.
”Welcome back! Everything okay—” Ethelena froze, spotting Dahlia.
”This is the Automaton Maiden who breached the teleportation gate,” I said. “Her name’s Dahlia. Dahlia, this is my fiancée, Ethelena. Say hi.”
”Yes, my master.” Dahlia bowed deeply. “Pleased to meet you. I’m Dahlia Julon, Automaton Maiden, in your care from today—”
”No way!” Ethelena shouted, cutting her off. What’s wrong?
”Tatara’s wife is me!” she cried, tears streaming. “I’m the first to take the Julon name!”
What’s happening?
Notes:
• Dahlia – The automaton.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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