The Tin Knight-Chapter 53: The Tin Knight and The City of Clockwork — Act 2 (2)

“Damn it. This is getting messy,” Smith Geppetto, the master of the doll workshop, complained.

The parts of magic doll parts came in all shapes and sizes, and many of them were particularly vulnerable to moisture.

One of the doll craftsman’s tasks was to inspect these parts to prevent damage—a task so routine for Smith, it was practically second nature.

But today, the work he repeated daily just wasn’t going well.

The cloth used to wipe off rust would tear, he accidentally spilled the maintenance oil container, and just as he tried to sit down and work steadily, the city guards came and rummaged around. Nothing was going right.

“Haa.”

A sigh escaped from Smith’s mouth.

In fact, he knew.

While the previous incidents were unpleasant, when he reflected on them calmly, none of them were particularly significant.

The problem was Smith’s own state in dealing with them.

Just as an ailing person reacted sensitively and got irritated by trivial things, Smith was the same.

It wasn’t a physical issue, but a mental one.

More specifically, two recent visitors were disturbing his mind.

— This old piece of junk isn’t in good shape, so I want to repair it. Is that possible?”

— I want to give my knight a wonderful gift, but other shops just don’t satisfy me. Can you show me your skills?”

The doll that came with the black witch was unimaginably ancient, yet the mystery and craftsmanship left on its body were as beautiful and intricate as a masterpiece painting.

To use an analogy, it was like a masterpiece created by several ancient genius artists working in perfect harmony.

The doll brought by the white witch was the opposite.

From head to toe, it was the epitome of cutting-edge technology. If the Tin Knight was “I understand the method, but the level is too high to replicate”, this one was closer to “I can’t even guess what kind of technology was used”.

Even the latest products touted in this city would all be considered outdated compared to the doll the white witch had.

Considering that Tik-Tok’s magic doll-related industry was the finest in all of the Empire, it was truly astonishing.

Black and white.

As if planned, the two contrasting witches each entrusted their magic dolls to Smith, and Smith responded to their requests as a craftsman.

The result was disastrous.

At least, that was what Smith himself thought.

Of course, he hadn’t made any mistakes, nor failed to complete the request.

He had neatly repaired the Tin Knight’s mana circuits, which had been a complete mess, and he had also cleanly adjusted the white knight’s body, which had been out of balance overall, perhaps due to too much focus on the performance of individual parts.

Both clients nodded with little complaint, but as far as Smith was concerned, even being generous, it was only about 70 out of 100 points in terms of achievement.

The fact that the missing 30 points were due to equipment and conditions rather than Smith’s own capabilities made him even more depressed.

If it was purely a lack of skill, he could humbly acknowledge his shortcomings and strive to further improve his skills, but external limitations were beyond Smith’s control.

If only he had his grandfather’s workshop, things would have been different, but this was an unattainable dream.

Smith’s grandfather, Pollen Geppetto, was a legendary doll craftsman hailed as the best in Tik-Tok.

Even mages, who typically held low opinions of magic dolls, would come from all over the Empire, saying they could trust dolls made by Pollen.

Some even offered enormous compensation to try to hire Pollen as their exclusive craftsman, but Pollen rejected all these offers.

This was why Smith constantly cursing his grandfather, calling him a damned old man.

If he had accepted even one of those offers, the Geppetto family wouldn’t have been in such a tight spot, he thought.

In fact, despite Pollen’s renown, the Geppetto family wasn’t very wealthy.

When important guests came, one should flatter them appropriately and make them open their wallets, but Pollen was hopelessly inept in that aspect.

He was an excellent craftsman, but he couldn’t become an excellent businessman.

Pollen himself had no problem with that.

No matter how eccentric his personality was, as long as he had the skills to back it up, people highly valued even that as craftsmanship spirit, and noble dignity.

But Smith’s father couldn’t do the same.

Unable to match his father Pollen’s skills, Smith’s father had to suffer under the tremendous pressure of constant comparison. When business declined after Pollen’s death, and customers became scarce, he had to worry about financial difficulties as well.

The expectant gazes of those around him.

The impatience to achieve something quickly.

The ideal conditions for being scammed were set.

Swindlers wagged their tongues, promising wealth and fame no less than his grandfather’s, and his father fell for their temptation.

The result was predictable.

Various legacies left by his grandfather all became the property of others, his parents, fallen into despair, ended their lives at an early age, and Smith and his younger sister were driven out of the workshop their grandfather had used and ended up barely scraping by in this back alley.

In business, location was everything.

No matter how skilled Smith and Sinc were, only oddballs or low-quality customers would come to this back alley with poor security.

Even then, it was fortunate if anyone came at all, and there were many days when only dust stirred.

Yet they couldn’t move the shop to a more visible location either.

Not only did they lack the capital to do so, but the swindlers who had taken their grandfather’s workshop wouldn’t allow it.

Unless some kind of favorable miracle occurred, Smith was destined to remain trapped in this back alley for the foreseeable future.

“...Damn it. What a pathetic thing to do.”

Smith roughly scratched his disheveled hair.

He had pointed out to his younger sister, “If you can’t do it, you can’t do it. Don’t act ugly by blaming the equipment,” but here he was, lamenting his situation with thoughts like “If only grandfather had been a little more friendly to others,” or “If only father hadn’t been deceived by swindlers.” Even he thought it was pathetic.

He blamed his idle hands for these pointless thoughts, and as he was just staring at the shop door...

A creaking hinge resounded, announcing the arrival of a customer.

Like a fisherman feeling a long-awaited bite, Smith quickly stood up.

“Welcome—oh my.”

Smith, who had greeted out of habit, involuntarily flinched.

Standing before him was the black witch—one of the very women who burdened him with these thoughts.

Her striking presence left no room for error.

A beautiful face with an undeniably cold edge, yet even that felt charming.

A form-sitting black outfit, clearly accentuating her well-proportioned body line.

To Smith, who lived in the back alley, it looked like a trouble-causing device itself.

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Like flies to a Venus flytrap, he could already picture the dick-for-brains men swarming towards her.

And yet, he found it strange that he heard nothing.

With such an eye-catching woman walking around the back alleys, rumors should have spread, but none of the local idiots around had talked about her.

Smith wasn’t capable of imagining that something like “magic that makes it difficult to see her appearance unless she wants to talk to you” might exist.

Is it because she covers herself with a cloak? No, honestly, this doesn’t seem like something that can be solved to that extent.

Smith snapped back to his senses as he was thinking that far.

What was important now wasn’t the customer’s appearance.

“Ahem. What brings you here?”

Smith, determined to be different from his grandfather who had the worst customer service skills, greeted the customer with a somewhat friendly attitude.

Due to his rough appearance, he looked more like a muscular bouncer guarding the entrance of an entertainment establishment no matter how one looked at it, but Smith himself didn’t realize this.

The witch answered, “I came to request additional enhancements.”

“Oh? Did you find a jewel in such a short time?”

Smith’s doubt was natural.

The Tin Knight’s mana container had significantly decreased in capacity due to being overworked for many years, but even so, its performance was superior to most things circulating in the market.

Finding something better than that was certainly not an easy task.

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

“Not that, but the mana circuit side. Didn’t you say there improvements could still be made?”

Smith was disappointed.

“If you’re talking about the detailed circuits, I can’t do that either. And I told you that implementing that wouldn’t have much significance anyway.”

“You said it yourself. The distinction between thin and thick circuits is similar to blood vessels in humans. It might not mean anything to ordinary magic dolls, but it could be something significant to magic dolls close to human.”

“That’s... well.”

Smith was at a loss for words.

Although Smith prided himself on his knowledge and skills regarding magic dolls that were second to none in Tik-Tok, the issue of “a magic doll with a human soul” was in a realm unknown even to him.

Being in an unknown realm, he couldn’t outright deny the witch’s hypothesis as incorrect.

However.

“...Even if that’s true, it’s impossible to recreate those detailed circuits in our workshop.”

So give up.

Smith spoke with a nuance implying not to cling to something that couldn’t be achieved anyway.

Perhaps those words were directed not at the witch in front of him, but at himself.

“Then can’t we just make a new one? One no less than what your grandfather used.”

Smith’s eyes widened.

There’s a craftsman here skilled enough to repair the Tin Knight.

However, having lost the high-grade equipment they originally used, it’s impossible to fully demonstrate their skills.

To this, Dorothea’s conclusion was simple.

Then isn’t it solved if we just give them good equipment? What? History and tradition? A building with family memories? Can you eat that?

Of course, there was a protest from the Tin Knight.

[The ‘Tin Knight’ insists in a situation like this, we should help recover the workshop of memories!]

“No, as long as the tool’s performance is similar, it doesn’t matter whether there are memories or not.”

[The ‘Tin Knight’ points out that we should follow the standard of the story!]

“You’re talking about standards. Where in the world does such a thing exist?”

Dorothea knew nothing of the Geppetto family’s detailed circumstances.

Truthfully, she wasn’t the least bit interested, either.

What was important to her was the fact that if she provided Smith with a suitable environment and tools, she could entrust him with the work she wanted.

“I’ll give you the created workshop, as is. However, all future work related to this guy will be done for free. How about it?”

Smith was flustered.

“W-wait. What do you mean? You’re saying you’ll create a workshop for me? Just to entrust one job?”

“Whether it’s ‘just one job’ or not is for me to decide. So, do you have any thoughts?”

Of course he did.

But.

“...Haa. It’s impossible. If I try to crawl out, the Stromboli Company won’t sit idly by. They’re one of the big shots in the magic doll industry, and they have a count’s family backing them up, so everyone trembles before them.”

“Does that list of trembling people include this city’s lord?”

“Huh? Uh, well. That wouldn’t be the case. Tik-Tok is a big city, and the lord isn’t someone who can be disrespected anywhere.”

The Stromboli Count family and the lord of Tik-Tok.

Smith, himself didn’t know exactly which side held more sway, but at least it wasn’t a level where one side could easily bow to the other.

And for Dorothea, that was enough.

“As long as Tik-Tok’s lord doesn’t personally step in to take their side, it doesn’t matter. At least there won’t be any obstacles through official procedures.”

“It’s not that simple! All the related technicians will be watching those guys, and even if we recruit workers, only drifters will gather. Do you think we can build a proper workshop like that!? I know you have a lot of money, but this kind of thing requires the specialized skills of those involved!”

“I can solve that. You just need to decide whether you’ll do it or not.”

Smith couldn’t understand why the woman in front of him was so confident.

What kind of confidence...

...Could it be?

No, there was one possibility.

That was...

Is she actually a noble? And a big shot who could take the Stromboli Company lightly!

Thinking that way, everything seemed to fit.

The way she spoke casually to anyone, that arrogant attitude, the suspiciously large amount of money!

Right, I’ve heard that among nobles, many try to turn their children into superhumans who can freely handle mana, like excellent knights or mages, even if they have to pour in money. That staff. And the magic doll. If we consider that somewhat strange outfit as a mage’s clothes...!

Smith trembled.

The “once-in-a-lifetime opportunity” he had been longing for was right in front of him.

And Smith, who thought his family had suffered because of his grandfather’s stubbornness, had no intention of making the same mistake.

Let’s just ignore the fact that Smith’s father had also been scammed through a similar thought process. People tended to believe they’d be fine even without much basis, after all.

“I’ll do it! I’ll do it! If you can really create a proper workshop, I’ll do all repairs and improvements for free!!”

And so, one naive craftsman fell for the witch’s persuasion.

[The ‘Tin Knight’ asks how she’s going to gather the skilled labor!]

[The ‘Tin Knight’ points out that even if you give a lot of money to unskilled people, the results will be poor!]

“You’re worrying too much. Have you forgotten where this city is?”

Dorothea raised her staff with her right hand.

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

And she said, “Those who pride themselves on having learned some professional skills in their lifetime, gather around. If you’re uncomfortable being compared in skills with others, you don’t have to come out.”

《Guooooo!!》

At the witch’s provocative call, the souls of Tik-Tok began to stir.