Fabricator v2 - Chapter 6 (Patreon)

Junichiro leaned back and stretched his arms above his head, his spine letting out little pops as he did. Sitting on the desk before him was a wooden stick in the classic easily recognizable shape of a wand. A well shaped cylinder that gently widened as you moved from the tip toward the handle. The handle was much thicker than the main body of the wand lending itself to a good grip. Wrapping around the main body of the wand was a filigree of gold set into carved trenches. At the tip a small highly polished red garnet sat. All-in-all the wand looked like a masterpiece as the highly polished exterior practically glowed in the light.

“It took six months...” He picked up the wand and felt the power thrumming in the beautiful piece of wood, “But I finally have my first wand!”

It took him six months to build up his reserves of mana enough to begin making low level wands. Still, 'low-level' covered a fair amount when it came to wands. This particular one would fire off explosive fireballs spells. Why? Because it's a goddamn classic! His next one would be designed to throw out lightning bolts and the one after that would be healing spells. Given enough time, he would have hundreds of wands ready for his use in any situation. Combined with his current plethora of spell scrolls and he felt confident.

Oh, don't misunderstand, he had no doubts that he was still weak as hell. He was certain a mid-class devil, or the equivalent in other races, could crush him easily. No, he was confident in his ability to throw out some distractions and getting the hell out. He was confident in his ability to escape and survive. Just as long as it wasn't one of the top tier bosses of the factions. There were power gaps that just couldn't be overcome no matter how clever one was.

Aside from the wand, he'd spent the last few months gaining quite the reputation within the city. So much so that people were traveling from other cities to get their hands on his kitchen knives. Not just that, but his number of custom orders had increased and expanded to other items. He'd made a few traditional tanto's, and even one katana. Those had been exceptionally profitable for him. He currently had a rather nice nest egg of just over ten million yen.

Unfortunately, it wasn't all good over the last six months. He'd tried to do some Alchemy to make some potions but the best he'd managed with non-magical ingredients was some cleansing potions. A full on cultivation type item that was meant to clean out 'impurities' and make the body better. It generally did an alright job of helping the body work better but was nothing like a cultivation novel would have people believe. He didn't suddenly develop 'jade skin' or other bullshit. It just helped a few things and made life a bit easier. The effects were also only temporary when living in a modern city so they had to be taken pretty often to maintain the effect.

Between those potions, some minor salves for things like sunburn, some nutrient potions, and other really minor things that you could buy the equivalent of in a store, Alchemy was a bust. For now. Once he got his hands on the necessary ingredients, he could make potions to boggle the mind... After some research into the specific items available in the world.

Other than working on protections, kitchen utensils, custom orders, and failed Alchemy, he'd also been making small trinkets for future sale as well as going to a local gym. Between the cleansing potions, some nutrient potions, and his Ring of Regeneration, his gains at the gym had been phenomenal. He was probably the strongest thirteen, almost fourteen, year old in the city... among humans. He even had himself a cute little four pack.

Once he finished admiring his wand, he moved it down toward the very nice belt he was wearing. It was made of black stained glossy leather with a simple belt buckle. What was unique were the many little pockets, almost like a utility belt, hanging off it it along what some small 'loops' that looked like tiny pockets on the exterior. The purpose of the small loop pockets became clear as he carefully placed the tip of the wand in one and pushed it down. The pocket, impossibly, accepted the entire wand inside of it.

Like all of the things attached to his belt, the pocket was far larger on the inside than one would expect. He'd full on Dr. Who'd his utility belt so he could carry far more than anyone would expect. Each of the dozen little pockets similar to the one he'd just stuck his wand into was meant for another wand. He'd make them soon enough but for now, just the one would do.

With it in place, Junichiro went around the shed shutting down his equipment, where necessary, and putting tools in their places. He was done for the night and tomorrow was Saturday. He was expected at the open air market to deliver some custom orders and sell his usual wares. Once he sold everything he had, he'd have another million yen to save. One of the items he was delivering today was a katana made in the old fashioned manner. Or at least, that's what the requester wanted. Frankly, he didn't have months to dedicate to making a single blade like a true master. So naturally, he cheated.

The katana had all the look, feel, and pristine precision of an old school handmade katana. It just didn't take as much time for him to go through the stages of production. He was actually rather proud of his work on the blade, it looked like it could be a museum or art piece. Not to mention it was deadly as hell. With all the methods of infusing mana into the process of making the blade, its edge was extremely hard, razor sharp, and would take a fair bit of effort to damage. Meanwhile the spine was still highly flexible making the overall blade stronger than one would expect. If he'd added runes to it or enchanted it, it would be an even more deadly weapon with a fair bit of power. Sadly, it was still ninety percent mundane.

With everything shut down for the night, he made his way to a second shed that was acting as his current home. It was so much nicer than the junk car had been. He'd also taken the time to add some insulation to the walls as well as a few solar panels outside to charge a literal wall of car batteries. All the batteries had been repaired, where necessary, with Scrolls of Repair and attached to a converter. This gave him a decent amount of power to run small appliances, like the small space heater he used to keep the place warm. Winter was just beginning and it was definitely getting significantly colder. He had plans to use magic to make life more comfortable, but that could wait for now. Sleep was much more important.

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The following morning Junichiro drove out of the junkyard on his restored Vespa, yes a legitimate Italian-made Vespa scooter. He'd found it in the junkyard and used a bunch of magic repair scrolls to fix it back to nearly new condition. Rolling behind it was a small covered trailer that he'd also restored. He used it to tow all of his stuff either out to sell or home to use. Carrying big boxes, while a nice workout, had gotten old really quickly.

He also had no worries about getting in trouble for the many laws he was breaking by driving it. Thanks to his notice-my-age-not bracelet. Both it and his notice-me-not bracelets had been replaced with better versions that had higher efficacy in their designed purposes. He'd wear the notice-me-not as well, but that way led to crashes and pain. Still, just the one bracelet was more than enough. Any mundanes or weak supernatural people who looked at him would dismiss his age as irrelevant. So, as long as he obeyed the rules of the road the police never looked at him twice.

He arrived at the area the open air market was hosted before nine in the morning and began to set up his small stall. His old broken down crate had been replaced with a nice folding table. His stock stayed within his trailer nearby while his usual display set and test produce sat on the table. He'd never once stopped making the kitchen knives and had, in fact, broadened the number of styles he sold from eight to fifteen different styles. He also started using a variety of woods for the handles. As the wood was the only cost in their construction, each knife was nearly pure profit.

Out of the ten thousand he charged for a single knife, the wood cost less than five hundred yen to procure for each one. Each knife took around two hours to make, less for the smaller ones. He was, essentially, making five thousand yen an hour for the knives. Minimum wage was less than one thousand yen an hour so he was doing pretty goo for himself. Add in the much more expensive custom orders and he was a very happy camper.

With everything ready, Junichiro sat in his comfortable seat, enhanced with comfort runes, and relaxed. The chilly air was making the market slightly less popular but only several feet of snow would stop people from coming out looking for bargains! It did slow his own sales somewhat though. His items were considered rather pricey for this type of environment. No one came to a market and expected to spend tens of thousands of yen. Despite that, he was moving his product rather well. He'd also passed off several of his custom orders and collected the payments.

It was around three in the after noon and Junichiro was reading a manga volume for Drag-So-Ball and chuckling to himself. He honestly wondered if the series was Drag-So-Ball and not Dragonball because he expected it, or if that's just how it was. Either way, Dragonball was superior in his opinion and he'd fight anyone that didn't agree! Not that anyone in the world would have a clue what Dragonball was. It was as he neared the end of the volume that he noticed someone arrive in front of his stand and begin examining his knives.

Junichiro looked up from his book and froze. His heart instantly began hammering in his chest as adrenaline flooded his body and his fight of flight response kicked in. At first blush the middle aged man before him wasn't anything special. Though it was odd that he was wearing a thick yukata and jacket in the cool weather instead of something warmer. No, what was freaking Junichiro out was the mans hair. It was almost pure black, with the exception of the blonde sections of his bangs.

Fucking Azazel! The mother fucking Governor General of the Grigori! Head fucking honcho of all Fallen Angels! The king pervert himself was standing in front of his little table of knives and looking them over with a keen eye.

Knowing he had zero chances of running away from someone as powerful as Azazel, Junichiro fell back onto an old tried and true technique. Fake it until you make it. Swallowing his terror, he gave his best, if strained, smile to Azazel, “Good afternoon, sir! Feel free to try out any of my knives that catches your interest on the provided produce. I can guarantee their durability and ability to hold and edge.”

Azazel hummed before reaching out and picking up one of the gyuto chef knives and examining it closely, “This is very well made. Who made it?”

As he asked his question, his eyes locked on Junichiro. For his part, Junichiro really really wanted to lie about who made the blades. He also wanted to demand what the hell the final boss of the Grigori was doing just wandering around a random open air market in a small city in Japan?! Sure, Azazel might not be some big bad evil guy like Rizevim or Kokobiel, but the last thing Junichiro wanted was ANY supernatural attention.

Realizing he'd stalled a bit and knowing he couldn't lie, Junichiro answered honestly, “I did. I hand crafted every blade you see for sale.”

“Ho? Interesting. You do good work kid.”

With that, Azazel set the knife down and was on his way. It wasn't until Junichiro could no longer see the fallen angel that his whole body broke out into shivers. He'd never been so terrified of anything in either of his lives. What the fuck was Azazel of all people doing here?! FUCK! He wanted to leave, right then, but couldn't. He might be a bit of a thieving bastard, but he liked to think he had some honor. So, despite the rapant fear and desire to run the fuck away, he stayed. He stayed because he had one last custom order to pass over, the katana. He was expecting the second half of the one point five million he'd charged for the job. In other words, if he left now he'd be leaving behind seven hundred and fifty thousand yen and one really pissed off customer.

The next half an hour of waiting for his customer was torture. When the man, looking to be in his fifties, finally showed up, Junichiro completed the transaction as fast as he could while being polite. Once the old man had left, he quickly packed up the rest of his unsold goods and took off.

Junichiro sped his way through the city, even taking the risk of using his notice-me-not bracelet to be practically invisible to everyone so he didn't have to obey the speed limit. He wasn't stupid through and never ran a red light. That way lay stupidity and accidents. Even then, he made excellent time to the junkyard and sped his way inside.

As a runaway Junichiro was intimately familiar with go bags and had one prepped to go as a moments notice. It sucked that he would have to leave behind all of the equipment that he'd managed to get his hands on but it was all too big, even with Bags of Holding. He'd never muscle the heavy machinery into one of them. Instead he grabbed the bag that was prepped for him to throw random shit into and started to ransack his own stuff.

The machines might need to be left behind but there was no way in hell he was leaving behind the precious metals, semi-precious gems, and other expensive materials used in his work. He quickly and efficiently tossed his stuff into the bag with hardly a care. Tools, paper, ink sticks, small blocks of gold and silver, small collections of gemstones, expensive pieces of wood, all of it vanished into the bag.

“Quite an interesting place to work out of.”

No matter what anyone may say about this moment in the future, Junichiro would forever swear that he did not scream like a little girl and jump in the air. Though after he did land from not jumping, he spun around to see Azazel lounging against the door frame of his work shed, “I gotta say, given the conditions you're working in, your work is even more impressive than I initially thought.”

Junichiro didn't bother answering the man. His go bag was on his back and he had most of his expensive materials, he'd just have to buy more replacements when he found a new spot to settle down. That being the case, he looked around for a possible escape route, naturally the only one was blocked by the twelve winged fallen angel.

“Hey now, no need to be afraid. I just wanted to talk. Maybe ask you a few questions.”

Junichiro looked at Azazel as he dug into one of the pouches on the small of his back to retrieve a scroll that took him three full days of work to make. Seeing a chance for maybe a bit of a distraction, “Sure, sure, ask the homeless orphan for all his secrets.”

Okay, maybe that wasn't the smartest thing to say. Letting a potential enemy know that no one would miss you if you disappeared was not smart. In fact, it was patently stupid. Junichiro didn't care. He was scared out of his mind and just needed a few seconds to activate the scroll. As Azazel opened his mouth to speak, Junichiro surged his mana just a bit into the scroll to activate it. Instantly he was surrounded by a white glow as his Scroll of Teleportation began to activate.

Azazel seemed a little surprised by the glow but with a flex of his power and a flick of his wrist there was a loud sound like glass shattering. The glow around Junichiro instantly faded as Azazel had stopped the spell from completing, “I don't believe I've ever seen a method of teleportation like that.”

He leaned to the side and looked at Junichiro's hand as it fell limply from the shock of having his spell stopped so effortlessly. Azazel quirked an eyebrow as he looked at the roll of parchment in Junishiro's hand, “Is that a talisman? No, those look different and are smaller. Is... is that a spell scroll? Did you compress all the calculations for a teleportation spell down into a scroll? You just get more and more interesting don't you?”

Junichiro didn't answer, he couldn't answer. Being blocked into the shed by one of the more dangerous beings on the planet with no means of escape or ability to fight back was terrifying Junichiro to his core. All he could do was let out a little whine of stress, shiver in fear, and look around in a crazed manner as he looked for any possible method of escape.

Seeing the stress and fear his presence and continued blocking of the only exit was causing the child in front of him, Azazel slowly held up his hand in a calm manner and took a few steps back, “Hey kid, it's alright, really. I'm not here to hurt you. It's just that a friend of mine couldn't stop talking about this young blacksmith and his kitchen knives. When I saw one in person, I could feel the mana infused into it. I hadn't seen anything like ti before so I got a little curious and decided to meet you. Though, my friend seemed to be of the impression that you were around twenty.”

Junichiro silently watched Azazel back away like a cornered mouse would watch a cat. He could barely understand what Azazel was saying, his mind too stressed out from the encounter. His muscles were clenched so tightly that his Ring of Regeneration had actually kicked in and begun healing the damage he was doing to himself. It wasn't until Azazel had backed up enough that someone less aware of his strength might be convinced they had enough room to run.

It was enough for Junichiro to whimper out, “P-please, just let me go. Please. Pleasepleaseplease just let me go.”

Despite himself, the stress of the situation had tears of fear and frustration streaming down his cheeks. He'd give anything to be facing a stray devil right about now. Even if the stray was stronger, he could at least fight back, he at least had tools he could use in that situation. Even if he whipped out his Wand of Fireballs and poured out all of its contained magical power into one single massive fireball, he doubted it would even scuff Azazel.

“Okay kid, okay.”

Azazel moved even further back with his hands still held up in a placating manner, “I don't intend to hold you against your will. I really was just honestly curious about you, kid.”

Junichiro watched Azazel move and once Azazel was further away, he made his way toward the door with every intention of running away. Even still, he kept his eyes trained on Azazel with the intention of leaping back if the fallen angel even so much as twitched. No, it wasn't logical to leap back into the enclosed area, but a massive dose of adrenaline and fear had left him with little more than instincts.

Seeing no movement from Azazel, Junichiro left the building and bolted like Satan himself was on his heels. His 'plan' was to get on his Vespa and drive until the tank was empty, then resume running until he felt safe once more. As he got to the scooter, Azazel called out from where he was still standing, “I know this is probably the worst timing ever but, you wouldn't happen to be interested in joining the Grigori would you?”

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PLOT TWIST!

So, what do you all think? I think this version of meeting a fallen angel for the first time is infinitely better than in the original version. Sound off in the comments so I can know how this went.

Also, I am neither going to confirm nor deny if Junichiro will join Grigori.