Note: Since this is a LoTM Fic, please do things that are not as straightforward as it seems. Also, there is no need to know any knowledge related to LoTM.
In the dim light of the small studio, Miss Gilio was a constant, hovering weight at Bethel's side. She watched his hands like a hawk, her head keeping a silent tally of his rights and wrongs.
He didn't stiffen under her piercing gaze as he had done when he first worked. Bethel moved the needle with a practiced fluidity, his fingers dancing through the Snow Silk as if he'd been born with a thimble on his thumb. Despite a few near-stumbles in the pattern, he pulled the final thread taut after a minute of focused silence. He set the needle down and presented the scarf, bracing himself for the old lady's inspection.
"There are a few places that you need to work on." the old lady stated and then started explaining every step where he went wrong. Going through the tallied mistakes one by one.
"Listen closely, for I will not repeat the obvious," she began, her tone carrying the weary patience of a mother explaining to a child that fire is hot and water is wet. "Snow Silk is a luxury of temperament. It offers a breath of cool air and a softness that Ice Silk can only dream of. Ice Silk is colder, yes, but it is a crude, abrasive thing–rough on the skin and even rougher on the eyes. But Snow Silk demands a price for its comfort: fragility. If you handle it with those clumsy, heavy hands of yours, it will simply surrender and tear. Precision, boy. Without it, you are just wasting good thread."
Finally, the old lady stopped. She checked the time; it was exactly 5 p.m. The old lady finished her explanation. "Let's continue this next week. Don't be late." Miss Gilio picked up the scarf the young man worked on and took it inside.
Seeing this, Bethel smiled outwardly. "Alright, Miss Gilio. I'll see you on Monday." Giving a bow, the young man turned around, a kind smile plastered on his face.
Though inwardly… that was an entirely different thing.
'Damn it, did the old hag have to sound so condescending? She talked like I was expected to master a material I'd only touched for the first time today.' Bethel scoffed at her attitude, as he tidied the table, his eyes caught the sight of a button. It took all of his willpower to not pocket it. After a second of internal conflict he tore his eyes off it.
'I need to take care of this problem today.' he noted mentally.
He kept cursing her as he walked away and left the shop behind. The Sign "Galio's Wonders" were like an extension of her mocking, making him feel aggravated. The words in his rant kept getting worse and worse–so bad that a sailor would blush hearing them.
Though he would never show it outside, Bethel was greatly affected by her little snides that she would throw his way every now and then. That condescending attitude, the look that she gave him as if he was merely a particularly talented curly haired baboon that she picked up on the streets.
Bethel released a breath as he finished his rant and calmed himself down.
His hands hid in his pockets as he walked through the roads of the city. The roads, the building, all of it seemed like a reflection of a human city, if you ignore the purple sky and the inhabitants.
His eyes were on the road, yet his mind was still stuck in the previous matter.
Though the old hag was personally insufferable, Bethel was sure that she might be some random masochist's dream woman, he retched at the thought. Ignoring the disturbing thought, regardless of her attitude, her skill was real.
She was truly skilled at her craft, that was something undeniable and she would properly explain things. If it wasn't for that, Bethel would have terminated the contract long ago.
Stepping to the side, Bethel avoided colliding with the children running past him. A small smile unconsciously appeared when he saw them playing. 'Be it devil or human, children are always the same.' Feeling a bit better, he continued on the path back to his house.
Speaking of contracts, Bethel had signed one with the old hag Gilio, it was a pretty simple contract. Simply guarantee to teach him a minimum of three hours per week. In return, he would pay 300 Lilums per session, and would work as an assistant 5 days a week. The contract had a two-year deadline, which was coming up soon.
300 Lilums per week. Making it 1200 Lilums per month. The rent for his house is only 450 lilums. Is it Costly? Absolutely. Was it necessary? Yes, after all only the old hag was willing to sign a contract and teach a devil without any form of identification.
If it wasn't for that, he wouldn't tolerate all her snide remarks.
Learning to sew was surprisingly easy. Especially for him who technically cheated. Thieving Brooch , an artifact that granted him [Agile Hands]. An ability that enhances stability and flexibility of his wrists and fingers. So Bethel didn't have to spend months working to train his hands to work with a needle.
So, all he needed was experience and knowledge. Bethel had to learn the Behaviour of fabric, how silk "creeps" and wool "shrinks", knowledge that could only be gained by handling different materials, and Pressing, which is practically sculpting except changing a chisel to an iron.
After all this, he would finally gain her approval to open his own shop. Which was something that he was now considering since he had invested in this skill, he needed to gain something in return.
"Maybe that's why I am complaining so much, after all I am spending so much money to learn something that I am not even passionate about."
Opening his own shop, that was the excuse Bethel used when he started learning. "I wonder if I should turn that excuse into reality."
He had no intention of actually opening a shop, but Bethel had to play the part of a starry-eyed youth who dreamt of becoming a tailor and opening up their own shop to avoid suspicion. After all, who in their right mind would waste thousands of lilums monthly if it weren't for the pursuit of their dreams.
A thousand Lilums. A low-class devil family of three would spend that much for their total monthly expenses, while Bethel was using it for a single expense.
In the corner of his eye, he saw a man wobbling in the air stark naked as his bat-like wings flapped, a bottle of alcohol held tightly in his hands. A year ago, such a sight would have bothered him. Now? Not so much.
Though he couldn't help but stare at the bat-like wings jutting out of his lower back, two things that he didn't possess. Even though he was a devil. Which made it his hypothesis even more believable to himself.
Isekai. Transmigration.
He viewed those terms the same way a person who avoids showers views soap: as a myth that simply didn't apply to his reality.
Unfortunately, some bored deity–or maybe it was simply random chance–decided that they disliked his lack of faith. Thus decided that the best way to make him a believer was to make him experience it.
He died–somehow, he had no memory of how he died. It was possible that his death was so traumatic that he was repressing it–and was reborn into the underworld as a Devil.
Thankfully, there were no fiery pits where sinners were tortured, no screams of the damned echoed through the air, no pitchforks, red skin, horns, or barbed tails. Honestly, if he were to compare the Underworld with fictional underworlds he had read about, it would be lackluster in comparison.
They have theme parks for fuck's sake! Sure, they are a lot more dangerous than human ones, but the fact that Hell has a theme park that is more popular than Disneyland was a blow that he is still recovering from.
The only difference the underworld had compared to Earth was the sky. It was purple; the sunlight wasn't hot. The temperature at midday was the same as midnight.
Being reborn as a devil wasn't that bad, ignoring the heightened emotions, but the true problem was the fact that his name was erased. He couldn't remember his previous name no matter how hard he tried. He may not know what it was, but he was 100% sure it was not Bethel.
To make matter's worse, his cheat, or Golden finger if you will, was…. Well, it wasn't terrible, but it was definitely not what Bethel expected when he realized he had been reincarnated.
He ranted internally as he walked down the streets, devils of all ages were intermingling. The clothing they wore ranged widely, either extremely revealing clothwear or extremely conservative outfits.
Children were running around hopping, flying and playing with each other. Their eyes were filled with strange innocence. One child summoned a wisp of a flame and showed it off like it was the greatest accomplishment.
That was something he couldn't help but feel envious about. Magic.
Devil magic is based on imagination and powered by Demonic power. Bethel had limitless imagination, sadly he had below average demonic power to fuel his imagination. So even if he were to use it, he could create a small fire wisp.
It was something that made him doubt his identity a lot. Devils differed from humans in a few areas. One was their wings, another was the ability to speak and understand any language, their significantly long lifespans, and their magic.
No wings, and practically worthless when it comes to magic, Bethel was technically crippled. The language part was fine, though he wasn't sure of his lifespan. Maybe he would indeed die at the age of 80 like a normal human.
Bethel arrived at a small, hut-like house. Yet, for an observer, the strangest thing was not the size of the house, but the door. The door of the house, though clearly visible, had no knob, nor was there a hinge or anything that would point to it being able to open. Rather, it was more like someone painted a door on a wall.
His house, which he had rented, lay on the edge near the edge of the city. It was a cheap place, and he was someone who constantly needed money.
Bethel didn't stop his pace. He kept walking directly toward the door as if determined to smash into it. The moment he came close, he extended his right hand and walked through. He walked past the painted door like a ghost.
Stepping inside, Bethel swept his gaze over his home. It was a small room: a bed in the corner, a table in the other, an armchair next to the table, and a closet placed next to the bed. Opposite the bed and table, there was a door leading to the bathroom.
"I'm home," Bethel announced. No response. He expected that; if someone replied, his soul would jump out of his body, considering the fact he lived alone.
He opened the fridge, grabbing the leftovers from last night. He plopped onto his armchair, legs placed atop the armrest. He bit into his sandwich, taking small bites to savor it. The cold but soft bread alongside the cold cuts and mayo tasted pretty great.
He would really kill for a hot meal. Maybe some spaghetti and meatballs?
Bethel thought back to his "apprenticeship" with the old woman. He had another three weeks left of the contract.
That made it 900 Lilums plus any additional expenses for the cost of the materials. Bethel paused mid-bite as he thought of the issue of money. Even when getting isekai'd to another world, even after changing race, the lack of money continues to be a problem.
Truly poverty was a law that unites all races.
Welp, it's not like he doesn't have options. Stealing is a very lucrative job—especially when you can go through walls and open any mundane locks.
"I guess thinking in that way makes it sound like an amazing ability."
With a thought, he summoned his status panel, otherwise known as the cheat he was given by whoever thought it would be funny to isekai him.
[Name: Bethel
Path: Apprentice (Rank 9)
Abilities: [Door Opening]
Items: [Thieving Brooch] ]
Bethel looked at his incredibly tiny panel. It may look small and not that great, but hey, it's honest work.
[Door Opening] may not be the Power of Destruction of the Bael Clan, or the Immortality of the Phenex clan, or even the ability to manipulate Time of the Agares Clan, but it was better than what most Devils had.
Bethel chewed on his food, his mind deep in thought. He needed to complete the quest so he could advance to the next rank. Then maybe he could gain some new abilities? Or would it simply strengthen his already existing ones?
In a realm where power was the only reliable wealth, Bethel who considered himself a certified half-cripple and potential 3/4th cripple, was uneasy living in the underworld.
So, yeah. Bethel really wants to level up to Rank 8 and hopefully gain the power to protect himself.
While thinking, he frowned and grabbed his wallet. Opening it, he checked how much he had left. His frown deepened. 200 Lilums. For simple living, this amount would be more than enough. But since he had to pay for the old hag to teach him, he was teetering on the edge of bankruptcy. Again.
Sigh. If it wasn't for the stupid quest, he would not even think of wasting his money like this.
"Looks like I'll have to go steal again."
If whoever sent him didn't want him to be a thief, they wouldn't have given him [Door Opening], an ability that lets him phase through walls and open any lock, plus his [Thieving Brooch] which gave him dexterous and flexible hands. He could pick pockets like the best of them.
With a thought, Bethel summoned his quest panel.
[Quest: Work under an established Master for two years and Gain their seal of Approval.
Reward: Advancement, ???]
Bethel really hoped that this Advancement reward was actually what he thought it was. He would be pissed if, after all this trouble, it was simply something else completely unrelated.
Bethel also had the option to simply not do what the system said. It's not like it was forcing him; there were no penalties. So why did he do this?
Truthfully, there were two reasons. The lesser reason could be attributed to his new race. Devils, from what he had discovered, seem to have a constant hard-on for power. As a devil, his instincts kept whispering how great an opportunity this was.
The second reason... truthfully, it was not a reason that might be all that great.
From his somewhat extensive research, this world has many realms: Heaven, Asgard, Olympus, and every other mythological realm exists. The underworld where he lived was just one of them.
Bethel turned his head toward the wall. In his mind, what he saw was not the wooden wall, but the purple sky of the underworld. To him it was an alien sky devoid of charm.
He simply missed the blue sky of his home. He missed the stars, the light of the sun. Simply, he was homesick.
To see the blue sky, Bethel had to go to the human world. To be allowed to go, he would either need a recommendation letter from a high-class devil or he would need to become a high-class devil himself.
He would rather not owe favors to high-class devils; there was too much room for something to go wrong when you place your hopes on others. It would be better to become a high-class devil on his own. And for that, he needed power.
To gain power, he needed to go through the quests.
Standing up and already walking, Bethel had firmed his mind.
"To steal or not to steal. Heh, I choose to steal."
For a moment, a strange instinct appeared in him, Bethel shivered at the sheer disgust at the intrusive thought of wanting to wear a monocle.
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