Chapter 102 - Being Late
As they waited, Amukelo tilted his head, still processing what Idin had said before. "Your father's business? What do you meant by that?"
Idin sighed, as if he had answered this question a hundred times before. "So my father began as a simple tailor. When he was young, he had a small shop just like this one, nothing fancy, just enough to get by. But he never stopped growing, improving, or innovating. He was always experimenting with new techniques, better materials, more efficient ways to craft clothing. At first, it was just him, working long hours, barely making enough to expand, but he never let that stop him."
Amukelo listened intently as Idin continued. "After a certain time of effort and expansion, he started training other people—young tailors who showed promise. At first, he charged only a little, just enough to compensate for his time. But when he saw the profits those tailors were making with the techniques he taught them, he realized his own value. He started raising his prices, making a real business out of it. He built a name for himself, not just as a tailor, but as a master craftsman who could turn an apprentice into a master."
Idin's voice carried a mix of pride and amusement as he continued. "Once he had enough wealth, he took it a step further. He didn't just train people—he began funding them, setting up promising young tailors in their own shops, supplying them with materials, ensuring they had everything they needed to succeed. And in return, he took a percentage of their profits. It was a risky move, but it paid off. Now, he rarely teaches himself—he has experts for that—but he still oversees everything, because knowledge of the craft is essential when you're employing the best."
The source of this c𝐨ntent is freeweɓnovēl.coɱ.
Bral smirked and interjected, "And now, the Stellafold empire is one of the most successful tailoring enterprises in the kingdom."
Idin gave a small nod, shrugging. "Yeah, pretty much. It wasn't built overnight. It took decades of hard work and dedication, but now my father's name carries weight. And since he's the best tailor I've ever known, I absorbed a lot of what he taught me just by spending time with him."
Before Amukelo could respond, a sharp intake of breath came from behind the counter. The shopkeeper's eyes widened as recognition dawned on his face. "No way... You're the son of Taelric Stellafold?"
Idin winced slightly, rubbing his temple. "Ugh... yeah."
The shopkeeper looked as if he had just met royalty. "Normally, I wouldn't believe you, but after hearing you speak, after seeing the way you solved that issue in the backroom... It's clear you're the real deal." His hands trembled slightly with excitement as he turned away, disappearing behind the counter. A moment later, he returned with the finished suit, carefully folded and placed in a pristine silk-lined box. "It's done now," he said, setting it gently on the counter. "And you can take it for free."
Amukelo blinked in shock. "What?"
The shopkeeper nodded firmly. "Please, just say a good word about me and my shop to your father."
Idin studied him for a moment, his usual easygoing demeanor slightly more guarded. "You're willing to give away an entire suit, just for a chance that my father hears about your shop?"
The man exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't want it for myself. But with the support of the Stellafold name, my son would have a bright future. He's talented, but it's hard for smaller craftsmen to get recognition. If someone like your father saw his work, maybe—just maybe—he could find an opportunity. So yes, sir, I ask for that chance."
Idin tapped his fingers against the counter, considering. "Did you make this suit yourself, or did you buy it from a supplier?"
The shopkeeper straightened his posture, his pride evident. "I made it myself. Every suit in this shop is made by either me or my son. We don't outsource. We believe in craftsmanship."
Idin ran his hand over the fabric, testing its quality once more, then nodded. "This suit is good. I like it." He let the silence linger for a second before adding, "Alright, I'll mention you to my father. But I won't guarantee anything, and even if he does take interest, it'll take time."
The shopkeeper's face brightened, relief and gratitude washing over him. "That's more than enough, sir. That chance means more to my son than a few gold coins for that suit. Thank you."
He hesitated, glancing toward the back room. "I only wish my son was here today, so he could meet you himself."
Idin gave a small nod of understanding. "If he's anything like you, then I'm sure he has talent. Keep training him, and when the time comes, he'll be ready."
The shopkeeper smiled, clearly moved. He carefully handed the box to Amukelo, who was still slightly overwhelmed by everything. "Take good care of it," he said. "It's meant to make an impression."
Amukelo took the box, staring down at it before looking up again. "I... don't know what to say."
Amukelo took the suit in his hands, staring at it for a brief moment before his eyes drifted to the clock on the wall. His stomach dropped. "Ughh... it's already the afternoon, guys."
Bral, who had been casually stretching, turned to look at the time, and his entire demeanor shifted. His eyes widened, and he ran a hand through his hair. "Oh... shit. We got dragged out for way too long."
Idin, for the first time in the last hour, actually looked concerned as well. Bao crossed her arms but didn't say anything, though her expression clearly said, I told you idiots this would happen.
Amukelo frowned. "Why are you all acting like this is such a big deal? It's just a—"
Bral cut him off with a sharp sigh. "Will you let a lady wait and worry? I bet she's already stressed about the whole thing, and you being late is only going to make it worse." He pointed at the changing room. "Go change here and give us your current clothes. You don't have time to get back to the inn."
Amukelo opened his mouth to argue, but then the weight of Bral's words sank in. He imagined Pao standing in front of the magic shop, waiting. Maybe pacing. Maybe regretting even asking him to meet up. And him showing up late? It would only make things worse. He exhaled sharply, the guilt settling in. "Okay, let's not waste time."
He took the suit and rushed to the changing room, hurriedly pulling on the carefully tailored pieces. The fabric felt strange against his skin—not in an uncomfortable way, but in a way that reminded him just how unfamiliar this whole experience was.
As he adjusted the cuffs and looked at himself in the mirror, he barely recognized the man staring back at him.
Outside, the shopkeeper was wringing his hands. "I'm so sorry for this," he muttered, guilt evident in his voice. "If I were a better tailor, I would have finished it sooner."
Bral let out an exasperated sigh. "It's not your fault. We came here too late. If we had been earlier, maybe Idin could have helped a little more."
The shopkeeper still looked unconvinced, but before he could say anything more, Amukelo stepped out of the changing room. "So... how do I look?"
The group went silent for a brief moment.
Idin gave a slow nod of approval. "Really good. Now I'm even more convinced to tell my father about this shop."
The shopkeeper's face lit up with pride. "My son made this suit—all of it. The jacket, the pants, the shirt."
Idin's brows raised slightly, and his nod grew firmer. "Even better. That kind of craftsmanship deserves recognition."
Bral, however, had no time to bask in the sentimentality. He grabbed a small bag of coins from his pouch and shoved it into Amukelo's hands. "You don't have time to stand here looking pretty. Run to her. Now."
Amukelo gripped the coins, confused. "Wait, what's this for?"
"For a gift," Bral said, rolling his eyes. "You're late anyway, and showing up with a gift will offset the stress it probably caused her. You need to get moving, now."
Amukelo took one last glance at them before gripping the bag tighter and sprinting out of the shop, his new boots clicking against the pavement as he disappeared down the street.
Bao let out a long, tired sigh, rubbing her temple. "Usually, I'd be pissed about you playing with my sister's affairs, but..." She exhaled, shaking her head. "I guess this will be good for her... hopefully."
Bral smirked, clearly enjoying the chaos he had orchestrated. "I know."
The shopkeeper, still buzzing with excitement, turned to Idin. "Sir, where could we meet you again? I would love to introduce my son to you. It would mean the world for him to hear your thoughts on his work."
Idin considered him for a moment, then gave a small nod. "We have training tomorrow at the facility. If you wait there, once we finish our class, we can have a proper conversation."
The shopkeeper's eyes brightened. "Then we will be waiting. Thank you, sir. I won't take any more of your time."
Idin nodded, and with that, the group left the shop.