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I sat in a chair in my little shop. I had only just bought it, and it was so soft and comfortable that once I sat down, I never wanted to get up.
The curtains were drawn, leaving only a narrow gap through which I could see the street opposite.
People came and went there. The out-of-towners all flocked to the shop across the street, while the occasional customer came to mine for souvenirs.
Oh, that child from a few days ago had bought quite a lot from me. I had just sent his goods off using the "Universal Wishing Machine."
To be honest, I thought I ought to change my stock. The visitors had no interest in soothing herbal sachets, potions that invigorated the mind and body, or stones and pendants with genuine protective powers. Instead, they scrambled for the electrical appliance shop across the street, carrying away perfectly ordinary, mass-produced light bulbs, kettles, telephones, induction cookers, and even tiny toasters.
Many rushed in and ran back out with armfuls of miscellaneous appliances, as though wolves were chasing them.
Unlike the first people who had wandered in simply wanting souvenirs, though, these latest visitors seemed to be buying wholesale. Some businessman from who knew where had even said he wanted to buy the entire hotel he was staying in and have all its heating pipes installed in his mansion, making a complete fool of himself.
Honestly, did they not have these things outside?
I had once gone out to listen to their accents and discovered that the fiercest buyers of these household appliances were all from Intis, mostly Trier, and all worshipped the God of Knowledge and Mysteries. When I asked where they came from, they started saying incomprehensible things about pursuing knowledge and mastering technology. They also