Chapter 53

# Chapter 53: The Tin Knight and the City of Clockwork – Act 2

“Damn it. This is getting frustrating.”

Smith Geppetto, the artisan of the Doll Workshop, grumbled to himself.

The parts for the Magical Automatons were all sorts of peculiar, and many had weaknesses like susceptibility to moisture. One of the doll maker’s tasks was to check these parts to make sure they didn’t get damaged, and that was just part of Smith’s daily routine.

However, what usually went smoothly was throwing him a curveball today.

The cloth meant for wiping rust ended up tearing, he accidentally knocked over a can meant for maintenance oil, and just as he was trying to sit down and get some work done, the city Guards came around stirring up trouble. Nothing seemed to go right.

“Haah.”

A sigh escaped Smith’s lips.

Truth be told, he knew it was getting to him. Sure, the earlier incidents were unpleasant, but when he rationally thought it over, each of those things wasn’t really that big a deal.

The real problem lay with how Smith himself was handling it.

Just like an ill person gets irritated over trivial matters, Smith was no different.

It wasn’t about his physical state.

It was about his mental state.

To be more specific, he was being thrown for a loop by two recent visitors who had come to see him.

“I want to repair this old hunk of junk. Can you do it?”

“I want to give my knight a great gift, but none of the other shops have what I’m looking for. Can you show me your skills?”

The doll brought in by the Black Witch was an ancient relic, the likes of which were hard to even guess at. However, the mystique and craftsmanship left on it were as beautiful and intricate as a masterpiece.

To put it in an analogy, imagine it was a collaboration of ancient genius artists crafting a work of art.

The doll brought by the White Witch was the exact opposite.

From head to toe, it was cutting-edge. If the Tin Knight’s situation was “I know how, but my level is too low to follow through,” the White Witch’s doll was more like “What on earth was used in its creation? I can’t even begin to guess.”

The latest products being touted in this city didn’t even hold a candle to the kind of technology the White Witch had.

Considering that the Magical Automaton industry surrounding TikTok was number one in the Empire, it was astonishing.

Black and white.

The eerily contrasting two witches handed their magical dolls over to Smith, who, as an artisan, accepted the challenge.

The results were disastrous.

At least, that was how Smith saw it.

Of course, he didn’t make any blunders, nor did he fail to fulfill the requests.

He flawlessly repaired the magic circuits of the Tin Knight, which had been in utter disarray, and even tuned the performance of the White Knight’s body, which had suffered due to an obsession with the efficiency of every individual part.

The two clients nodded along without complaint, but for Smith, it felt like a solid 70 out of 100 at best.

The missing 30 points didn’t stem from his own lack of capability, but rather the circumstances and equipment he was working with, which only deepened his gloom.

If his lack of ability alone were to blame, he could humbly accept it and simply work to improve. But external factors were outside of Smith’s control.

If only his grandfather had left him the workshop, things would have been different, but that was a dream he could never achieve.

Smith’s grandfather, Pollan Geppetto, was hailed as a master doll maker even in TikTok.

Even wizards, who generally didn’t hold Magical Automatons in high regard, would make their way from all over the Empire if it was one of Pollan’s creations, claiming they could trust it.

Some even went so far as to offer incredible rewards to hire Pollan as their exclusive artisan, but Pollan rejected every last offer.

That’s why Smith often muttered about his grandfather being a complete fool.

If only he had accepted one of those offers, the Geppetto family wouldn’t have ended up in such a tight spot.

Despite his grandfather’s high reputation, the Geppetto family wasn’t very wealthy.

Whenever a valuable guest arrived, they had to curry favor and flatter them to get them to open their wallets, but Pollan was absolutely awful at that.

An outstanding craftsman, but a miserable trader.

Pollan himself was fine with that.

No matter how cantankerous his personality, as long as he had that level of skill, there were those who praised it as artisan spirit and nobility.

But Smith’s father wasn’t cut from the same cloth.

He didn’t have the skills of his father, and with the crushing pressure of being compared to Pollan, he suffered immensely. After Pollan’s death, hoping for customers became a concern.

The expectant gazes from those around him. The pangs of anxiety that he needed to accomplish something soon.

These created the perfect conditions for a scam.

Scammers swooped in, claiming they could make him as wealthy and famous as his grandfather, and his father fell for it.

What happened next was predictable.

Every asset left by his grandfather ended up in someone else’s hands, and the disheartened parents passed away early, forcing Smith and his younger sister out of the workshop once used by their grandfather, leading them to scrape by in the back alleys.

Establishing a reputation in business is extremely important.

No matter how skilled Smith and Sing were, the customers that would come to a seedy back alley tended to be either oddballs or undesirable sorts.

Even finding clients was a rarity, with many days just collecting dust.

Yet moving to a more visible location was out of the question.

Not only was there not enough capital, but the scammers that had taken his grandfather’s workshop wouldn’t allow it either.

Unless some kind of miraculous fortune happened, Smith was fated to continue lurking in this back alley.

“…Damn it. What a pathetic mess I’m in.”

Smith scratched his messy hair.

He’d scolded his sister for saying, “If you can’t do it, then don’t make excuses,” while he wallowed in self-pity over the notion that “If only my grandfather had been a little more sociable” or “If only my father hadn’t fallen for those scammers,” so he felt ashamed of himself.

He could blame it all on the free time without any customers leading to his wandering thoughts when suddenly,

With the creak of a hinge, a guest arrived.

Like a fisherman sensing a bite after waiting, Smith jumped to his feet.

“Welcome—whoops.”

He greeted the newcomer out of habit but froze in surprise.

It was the Black Witch who had tossed him the troublesome dilemma earlier.

Her striking presence left no room for misunderstanding.

With a slightly cold yet alluringly beautiful face, her body clung tightly in black attire that showcased her well-defined figure.

For someone living in the back alleys like Smith, she looked like nothing less than a trouble magnet.

He imagined the kinds of fools in the area who thought with their lower halves just like a fly nearing a Venus flytrap.

Thinking about it, something didn’t add up.

If such an eye-catching woman roamed the back alleys, there would be whispers about her everywhere, yet none of the local idiots seemed to have mentioned her.

Smith didn’t even consider that some magic might be at play, making it hard to see her unless she was speaking with someone she wanted to talk to.

“Is she hiding under a cloak or something? No, honestly, that doesn’t quite cover it.”

Just as he was lost in thought, Smith snapped back to reality.

What mattered right now wasn’t the customer’s appearance.

“Ahem. What brings you here?”

Smith welcomed her as if he were different from his grandfather, who had the worst hospitality, flashing a friendly demeanor.

Despite his intimidating looks, which could be mistaken for a bouncer at a shady establishment, Smith was oblivious to it.

The witch replied, “I came for some additional upgrades.”

“Oh? Did you manage to find some gemstones in such a short time?”

Smith’s question was a natural one.

The Tin Knight’s magic container had greatly diminished in capacity due to years of overuse, but it still performed better than average magical items available on the market.

Finding something better wouldn’t be easy at all.

Sure enough, the witch shook her head at Smith’s inquiry.

“Not that, but the magic circuits. You said there were still things you could do, right?”

Smith felt a twinge of disappointment.

“If you’re talking about the detailed circuits, I’m at a loss. Plus, I think it won’t make much difference if we try to implement it.”

“You said it yourself. Thin circuits and thick circuits are different, just like blood vessels in humans. They may not matter to an ordinary Magical Automaton, but they could mean something for a Magical Automaton close to a human.”

“That’s… well.”

Smith fell silent.

While he prided himself on knowing as much about Magical Automatons as anyone in TikTok, the concept of a “Magical Automaton with a human soul” was uncharted territory.

Because it was an unknown domain, he couldn’t outright dismiss the witch’s hypothesis as wrong.

However.

“…Even if that were true, it would be impossible for us to reproduce that intricate circuitry here.”

In other words, give it up.

He said it in a tone suggesting that she shouldn’t cling to something unattainable, possibly speaking more to himself than to the witch.

“Then, why not just make a new one? Something just as good as what your grandfather used.”

Smith widened his eyes.

***

– There is an artisan skilled enough to repair the Tin Knight.

– However, he has lost his original high-end equipment, making it impossible to showcase his full capacity.

Dorothea’s conclusion was straightforward.

– Then wouldn’t just giving him good tools solve the problem? What? History and tradition? A building with family memories? What’s that going to do, fill you up?

Of course, the Tin Knight had his complaints.

[“When the Tin Knight is like this, we should be restoring the workshop of memories!”]

“No, as long as the tools are similar in performance, who cares if there are memories or not.”

[“The Tin Knight says it should follow the story’s standard!”]

“What kind of standard nonsense is that? Where is that written in the world?”

Dorothea didn’t know a lick about the long, drawn-out saga of the Geppetto family.

In fact, she didn’t care at all.

What mattered to her was that by providing Smith with a good environment and tools, she could get the requests fulfilled.

“I’ll give you the renovated workshop as it is. But you’ll have to do all future related tasks for free. How’s that?”

Smith was taken aback.

“W-wait a minute. What do you mean you’ll just build me a workshop? All that for wanting me to take on a job?”

“Whether you consider it a little or not is up to me. So, do you have any thoughts on it?”

Of course, he did.

He had plenty of thoughts but,

“Haah. That’s impossible. If I try to crawl out, the Stromboli Trading Company won’t just sit still. They’re a big deal in the Magical Automaton industry, and they’re backed by a Count’s family, so everyone’s shaking in front of them.”

“Does that include the city lord trembling in fear?”

“Hmm? Well, that wouldn’t be the case. TikTok is a major city, and the lord isn’t someone to be treated lightly anywhere he goes.”

The Stromboli Count’s family and the lord of TikTok.

Smith had no clear understanding of which side held the upper hand, but at least one side wouldn’t easily bow to the other.

And that was enough for Dorothea.

“As long as the lord of TikTok doesn’t step in and side with those guys, it can be ignored. There won’t be any trouble on the official front.”

“It’s not so simple! The related technicians will all be bowing to them, and good luck recruiting laborers; only drifters will show up. Do you really think you can build a proper workshop!? I know you have a lot of money, but you need the expertise of those involved for this!”

“I can handle that. You just need to decide whether you’re in or out.”

Smith could not wrap his head around what made this woman before him so bold.

What kind of confidence…

‘Could it be…’

No, there was at least one possibility hanging in the air.

That possibility was:

“Is she actually a noble? The kind that doesn’t worry too much about the Stromboli Trading Company!”

Thinking this way seemed to align all the pieces perfectly.

Her casualness when speaking to others, the haughty demeanor, and the strangely abundant money!

“After all, there are nobles who pour money into making their children into great knights or sorcerers, beings who can freely handle magic. That cane. And the Magical Automaton. That weird outfit; we could chalk it up to some kind of magician’s clothing…!”

Smith shuddered.

The ‘once-in-a-lifetime opportunity’ he had long sought was in front of him.

And because he thought his family had suffered due to his grandfather’s stiffness, he had no intention of making the same mistake. (Smith’s father had undergone a similar thought process before falling for a scam, but people tend to think they’re fine without any concrete reasons.)

“I accept! If you can truly create a proper workshop for me, I’ll do repairs and upgrades for free!!”

And thus, one naive artisan fell for the witch’s seduction.

***

[The Tin Knight asks how he plans to gather technicians!]

[The Tin Knight points out that even paying a lot to untalented folks won’t yield quality results!]

“Stop worrying for nothing. Do you even remember where we are?”

Dorothea raised her staff.

At the same time, she rotated her left hand counterclockwise, transforming a chain ring into a cage.

And she spoke.

“—All of you who think you have a bit of expertise buried inside, gather ‘round. If you can’t stand comparing yourselves with others, you don’t have to show up.”

《Guuooooo!!》

At the witch’s challenge, the spirits of TikTok began to stir.

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