Chapter 93. New Arm
"Laesto, thanks for referring a new client to me," the teddy bear sounded as it toddled between the now-extinguished candles to stand before Laesto. It gave a nod, its head revealing patches where cotton peeked through, just as Laesto took a sip from his metal flask.
"Cut the crap and get it done quickly," Laesto replied with visible annoyance. He then limped toward the old woman's rocking chair and slumped down into it.
The teddy bear turned its head to Charles. "Young man, can you squat down? How am I supposed to measure you when you're so much taller than me?"
Being measured by a stuffed toy was undoubtedly a first for Charles. He had never expected the Arcanists to use their magic in this manner. It now made sense why Laesto had mentioned that this mysterious individual could craft him a prosthetic arm despite not leaving Duskleaf Island.
For a start, the teddy bear produced a pair of scissors from within its soft belly and snipped open the empty sleeve of Charles' left arm. It then took out a measuring tape.
"I heard you managed to get Laesto onto your ship. How did you manage to do it? He doesn't seem like the type to easily leave his haunt," the teddy bear chattered away as it measured Charles.
"You guys are acquaintances?"
"Of course we are! See those scars on his face? My handiwork. If you want to know anything about him, ask me. I know everything about him."
Ahem ahem!
Laesto feigned a cough from his seat.
Charles cast a fleeting look at Laesto and chose not to continue the dialogue with the teddy bear. Emerging from n0v@lbin☆, this material harbors clandestine details.
Several minutes later, the teddy bear was done with his measurements. Putting the measuring tape back into its stomach, it looked at Charles once more and asked, "Since you are the captain of an exploration vessel, do you need any weapon augmentations for your prosthetic?"
The teddy bear's words sparked a memory in Charles of Laesto's prosthetic hand, which housed a unique surgical tool in each finger.
"Without compromising dexterity, what can be added?"
"Oh, so many things—firearms, poison gas, a universal lock picker. Name it, and I'll probably have it. Of course, modifications come at an extra charge. Just make sure you have enough Echo."
Once the prosthetic ceased its movement, droplets of sweat glistened on Charles' brow. He attempted to raise his new left arm, but the metallic hand stayed still.
"Young man, what's the hurry? There's something still missing," the elderly woman chided as she calmly took out two glass jars from her bag. A swirling, blueish smoke could be seen in both jars.
Seeing the confusion on Charles' visage, the old woman grinned mischievously and gently shook one of the jars. The blueish smoke morphed to reveal what seemed like a screaming, ghostly face.
"Hehe, ever seen a human's soul? This is to link your soul to the arm."
With a soft pop, the jar's lid was released, and the azure mist swiftly drifted into the prosthetic. As the mist fully melded with the metallic limb, the inner gears sprung into action. The engravings on them emitted a gentle purple luminescence, and Charles regained sensation in his left arm.
He flexed and clenched his new hand; the prosthetic responded in perfect sync with his thoughts.
The elderly woman handed a small booklet to Charles like a grandmother offering candy to a child.
With an amicable demeanor, she said, "Here you go. This is the manual. Remember to lubricate it with whale oil as instructed. If you have any issues with the hand, come see me. I'll help you get it sent back for repairs."
Charles took the booklet, and his eyes briefly glanced toward the empty glass jar she had been holding earlier. His expression was a mixture of gratitude and unease. With Laesto, who had risen from his seat, they walked to the exit.
On the bustling streets of the harbor district, Charles began testing the capabilities of his new left hand.
Clang!
A jagged chain-saw blade shot out from Charles’ wrist. The blade began to spin rapidly with a mere thought from him. He could tell from its astonishing speed that its cutting power might even surpass that of the Dark Blade.
Click, click, click—
Charles' left palm whirred open, and a grappling hook tethered to a chain sprung forth and embedded itself into a chimney of a building across the street.
With a thought, the gears inside his prosthetic whirred, and the chain retracted, drawing Charles toward the rooftop.
With such a tool at his disposal, he could now move with ease, even if he ended up in places devoid of support or grip.
However, that wasn't what surprised Charles the most. It was the remarkable agility of the prosthetic that truly astounded Charles. With seamless movements, he manipulated the Dark Blade between his mechanical fingers, leaving behind a cascade of shimmering afterimages.
Indeed, this prosthetic was worthy of three million Echo; it was even more nimble than his original hand.