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.
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."
After briefly understanding the cost of the various components that could be added, Charles eventually decided to incorporate a chainsaw and a grappling hook into his prosthetic. They were common elements but yet most suited for his current needs.
Charles had considered the other options as well, however, the hefty price tag deterred him. The arm itself, without any modifications, already cost three million, stretching his five million Echo savings thin.
If he were to splurge on his arm, he might not even have enough to procure fuel for the Narwhale's next expedition.
The teddy bear accepted the check from Charles with its fraying paw. It carefully counted the number of zeroes on the check multiple times before it tucked the piece of paper away into its stomach.
"Great, your prosthetic will be delivered soon."
"How long will it take?" Charles asked.
"I have gotten your measurements, and I happen to have a left arm in stock. I'll make some adjustments and have it sent to you right away. Laesto told me about you. Since you are his friend, you are considered my friend, too. I definitely have to do the best for a friend."
With that, the teddy bear then slumped over and lay motionless on the floor.
The elderly woman approached and placed the now-lifeless teddy bear into the bag. She then proceeded to scrub the arcane array off the floor using a short-handled mop made of tattered cloth.
After ensuring no trace of the previous array remained, the old woman began drawing a new array. This new array seemed even more detailed than its predecessor and spanned a noticeably larger area. She then placed a small, unassuming box in the middle of the array.
Remembering the teddy bear's earlier comments, Charles steadied himself and waited with quiet anticipation. Given the recent events, he had formed a rough guess about the method of his prosthetic's delivery.
A chant, harmonious yet distinct from the previous one, reverberated throughout the room. The arcane array shimmered with a soft radiance, and its designs writhed as if infused with a life of their own.
When the elderly woman was done with her chanting, the anomalies within the room faded as though they had never happened. She opened the box, retrieved the silver arm within and walked toward Charles.
Much like how many young boys were inexplicably drawn to toy guns, Charles fell in love with the prosthetic limb the moment he laid his eyes on it.
Unlike Laesto's prosthetic, this one lacked a metallic casing. Delicate gears of varying sizes and pistons were exposed to the air, and they glistened with a silvery sheen. It radiated a distinct steampunk charm. The arm's tip was adorned with several hollow, threaded metallic spikes.
"Extend your arm. Why are you standing there in a daze? This thing's heavy," the elderly woman grumbled.
"Bear with it," Laesto warned out of a sudden and looked up from the rocking chair.
Taking a deep breath, Charles positioned the remnants of his arm against the prosthetic. Almost immediately, the metal spikes began to spin, embedding themselves into his flesh as though driven by their own desire. A sharp, piercing pain surged through him, making him shudder uncontrollably.
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.
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