Miss Luna! Are you going to be my first investor?!
Having a ten-year-old girl fund his painting supplies—how embarrassing...
"I'd be delighted, Miss Luna."
Ethan's eyes sparkled.
He'd thought about submitting work to newspapers and magazines before.
But he still lacked proper art supplies, he was too young, and no one had the discerning eye to appreciate his art.
One rejection letter had even said, "You should pay me for the emotional distress of having to look at this piece."
Damn it!!
It was a biology magazine! What was wrong with him drawing anatomically accurate illustrations that required specialist knowledge??
But now, Ethan had finally found a kindred spirit.
Even if she hadn't seen his paintings yet.
He would never let her regret it.
Luna blinked, unsure why the boy had suddenly started calling her "Miss Luna."
But for no logical reason, she was certain that a boy who could chat with her so easily must be a wonderful artist, too.
"Mm, then it's settled."
Luna nodded and smiled at Ethan.
"I'll talk to Dad when I get home. Oh, right—he's the editor of The Quibbler."
"Um... I don't think anyone's done a suitable illustration yet for the article, 'Long-Term Flying Broomstick Use Can Cause Broom Rash.' You see, everyone's still flying around on their Flying Broomsticks. And people who have it are never willing to let anyone see their bottoms."
Luna spoke with complete seriousness.
Ethan suddenly realized something.
The reason he could keep up such a lively conversation with Luna, a witch who was only ten, was that she actually spoke very logically.
Especially when she had a lot to say, she could make her meaning clear.
Most children said whatever came to mind, one thought at a time, and often ended up rambling incoherently.
...Maybe people thought Luna's ideas were so absurd precisely because they understood what she was saying.
Ethan said, "I'll make sure everyone fully understands the dangers of Broom Rash. Don't worry."
As he spoke, Ethan gave her a confident smile.
He'd solved the problem of art supplies and even found a magazine that might publish his work.
His mood immediately brightened.
Luna's pale golden hair shimmered in the sunlight, and her fair face seemed to glow with a golden light in his eyes.
Luna, you little angel!
At the same time, Ethan silently vowed to himself.
With his incredible paintings, he would bring The Quibbler into the public eye.
He'd take down The Daily Prophet!
Meanwhile,
the people working at The Daily Prophet suddenly felt a chill.
As if some evil presence had set its sights on them...
Brr. Must've been their imagination.
After all, the greatest terror of all, The Dark Lord, had already fallen, hadn't he?
After buying his school supplies, Ethan went to a bookshop to do some research. He flipped through books like Complete Collection of 16th Century Punishments, Various Wounds and Their Treatments, and The Truth About Witch Hunts You Don't Know.
He learned a lot.
As the sun sank below the horizon, its fiery red glow spread across the sky.
Ethan said goodbye to Luna.
"I'll write to you when I get home," Luna said. "It's a shame there's a freshwater Confetti Fish flood at my house lately, or I'd invite you over."
"I look forward to it," Ethan said with a smile.
The wind brushed his face, ruffling his black hair. His cobalt-blue eyes curved into crescents, and his crow-black lashes cast a small shadow beneath them.
Even his old, threadbare clothes couldn't hide his striking bearing. He drew people's attention.
Luna stared blankly at Ethan. She didn't come back to herself until his figure disappeared down the street.
"...I've made a new friend. Dad will be happy."
Luna murmured, her spirits soaring once more.
Ignoring the looks of passersby, she bounded like a little deer toward her father, who was already waiting for her.
Spider's Alley.
After returning home, Ethan didn't have to wait long. On a misty morning, he received an owl from Luna's home.
It carried a complete set of painting supplies.
There was a set of twelve oil paints and turpentine, a pad of oil painting paper, and three paintbrushes of different sizes.
They weren't anything fancy, just basic supplies.
Compared to the arsenal of heavy-duty materials in the art studio from his previous life, they wouldn't even have counted as scraps. After all, even canvases came in all sorts of grades.
But now, Ethan cradled the supplies in his blackened fingertips as if they were priceless treasures.
In the plain, shabby room, its walls hung with black-and-white sketches, they were the only bright colors.
Luna had sent a letter along with them:
[To my good friend Ethan:]
[I talked it over with Dad, and he's more than happy to publish your painting. He's looking forward to seeing what you can come up with. I think we should illustrate "Broom Rash" in our first issue. The article is below.]
[When you've finished the painting, please send the original to Carrot—he's the owl delivering this letter.]
[Once we receive the original, we'll make a copy at my house. Then we'll send your original back, so you can keep it.]
[I look forward to hearing from you, Luna]
[Ps. I hope I bought the right supplies. They're "pure, unadulterated paints from animals." I thought that sounded very interesting.]
After reading the letter, Ethan couldn't help smiling.
He looked up at the gray-blue owl perched on the windowsill. The owl looked back at him with its bright yellow eyes.
"Hoo?"
The owl twisted its neck ninety degrees and blinked.
What an idiot.
Ethan gave a couple of mocking snorts, beckoned the owl over, and poured it a saucer of water.
As for food...
With garbage everywhere in Spider's Alley, it was bound to eat its fill.
There was no time to waste. Ethan immediately set to work.
First, he went to the tap and washed his hands thoroughly. After drying them, he opened his sketchbook.
He stroked the ivory-colored texture of the paper and felt the artist's soul inside him blaze.
An illustration for Broom Rash, was it?
Excellent!
With his painting, he would make sure no one could ever dismiss the article as a ridiculous joke again.
His excitement sent inspiration gushing through him like a spring.
Ethan picked up a paintbrush—he still couldn't turn his wand into a brush of his own.
He dipped it into the red paint and began to work, utterly absorbed.
Gradually, a faint smell of blood began to spread through the room.
The sun rose and set, and the sky began to darken.
At last, Ethan put down his brush.
He was pale and panting.
But his eyes shone like stars as he stared wide-eyed at the paper, utterly entranced.
To an outsider, there was something uncanny about the sight, enough to send a shiver down their spine.
The once-white paper was now covered in red.
[Detected an extraordinary-grade artwork. Automatically added to Gallery]
[Name: Broom Rash]
[Type: Portrait]
[Grade: Tier 1 · White Rare]
[Description: "Take a look at this article. Broom Rash? What's that supposed to be? Haha, that's hilarious!—Wait, what part of your body are you talking to me with?!"]
[Effects: ① Viewing it causes intense discomfort and may trigger Broom PTSD; ② While this painting is in use, the area it touches may develop a mild rash]
[Hint: This painting can be upgraded further when combined with the appropriate spell]
[Current number of artworks in Gallery: 2]
[Novice Gift Pack unlocked: 2/5]
—It worked!
Before you continue