I Don't Know the Original, I'm Too Busy Trying to Make a Living-Chapter 179

[Halo Tower Branch]

“Wow, it’s really the Tower of Magic,” Penelope murmured in awe, standing under the sign of the newly established branch in Halo.

The reason she had come was because Professor Orlan’s workshop was now located here.

It felt surreal. Just a few months ago, this territory was on the brink of ruin. And now, a branch of the Tower of Magic had been established here.

“I’ve heard the Tower’s standards for opening a branch are incredibly strict. They don’t set up just anywhere because the mages have high expectations. Passing their evaluation is amazing,” Penelope remarked.

“That’s because I told them to set one up here,” Ahwin replied casually.

“....”

Penelope snapped her head around to look at him. Ahwin met her gaze with an innocent expression.

“Wait. Did you... pull strings to get the Tower approved here?”

The realization hit her like a brick. She, Penelope, who had always championed fairness and equal opportunity, had unknowingly contributed to a system of favoritism and nepotism.

I’m part of the problem!

As someone who prided herself on promoting equality, the thought of using her lover’s influence to bring the Tower to her territory was horrifying. If people ever found out, they’d surely be disappointed.

But Ahwin didn’t seem to understand her reaction.

“What are you even talking about? Does it make sense for the Tower Master to live somewhere without a Tower?”

“....”

“I’m literally the center of the Tower. Of course there needs to be a branch nearby. Or should the mages keep traveling back and forth by carriage every day?”

It made so much sense that Penelope couldn’t argue.

Ahwin was no longer in seclusion, and it was only logical for him to have an official residence in Halo.

Of course, the Tower Master needs to be near the Tower.

Penelope silently reflected on her short-sightedness.

“Let’s go inside before someone sees us,” Ahwin urged.

To avoid attracting attention, they were both dressed in plain clothes. The last thing Penelope wanted was a repeat of the massive crowd that had gathered during her previous public appearance at the school.

No more impromptu fan meetings, please.

Following Ahwin, she quickly slipped through the Tower’s doors.

The lobby was still a chaotic mess, as the branch wasn’t officially open yet. Desks and chairs were piled in one corner, and unopened crates were scattered around haphazardly.

“It’s still being set up,” Penelope noted.

“Looks like they’re busy with preparations. The workshop is on the second floor,” Ahwin said, leading the way.

As they climbed the stairs, Penelope noticed how bustling the second-floor hallway was. Mages in robes bearing the Tower’s insignia moved about busily, joined by dwarves—a surprising sight.

What are dwarves doing here? Penelope wondered.

Before she could ask, a series of loud bangs echoed through the hallway.

Bang! Bang, bang! Bang!

Startled, mages and dwarves rushed toward an open door. Penelope, unable to suppress her curiosity, followed them, with Ahwin close behind.

Inside was a large room filled with scattered blueprints and experimental tools. It was complete chaos.

It’d be hard to make such a mess even on purpose.

In the center of the room was the prototype wringer, surrounded by various unfamiliar contraptions. Penelope didn’t dare approach recklessly.

The mages and dwarves were staring at the wringer with grim expressions, almost as if glaring at it.

“Did it fail again?”

“How many attempts has this been?”

The voices of Rub and Katherin cut through the tension as they questioned Professor Orlan, who wiped his brow with a handkerchief.

“I thought this time would work,” Orlan muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

“Logically, the balance should hold if it’s assembled according to the blueprint,” Rub pointed out.

“There might be an issue with the assembly process. Or perhaps the components themselves are defective,” Katherin added.

Give the man a break!

While Rub and Katherin’s points were valid, their relentless questioning made it look like they were bullying the elderly professor. Penelope clicked her tongue inwardly.

I knew they’d act like this. No social awareness at all.

From the moment Rub and Katherin had joined to assist Orlan, Penelope had anticipated this exact scenario.

“Enough. You’re being disruptive,” Rector barked, glaring at the two mages.

“We’re not disrupting anything!”

“We’ve been nothing but helpful!”

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“Just go back to Ahwin’s side, now!”

Rector’s voice rose, and Rub and Katherin reluctantly backed down, though their expressions remained defiant.

“Ah, Baroness,” Orlan said, spotting Penelope and Ahwin. “You’re here?”

“We were just passing by and thought to drop in. I hope we’re not disturbing you,” Penelope replied, adopting a polite tone.

Ahwin snorted softly. Passing by? You nagged me all morning to come here.

This is called tact, Ahwin. Learn it, Penelope retorted silently, squeezing his hand. Startled, Ahwin cleared his throat.

Orlan, observing the exchange, smiled warmly.

“You came at a good time. Unfortunately, we haven’t achieved satisfactory results yet,” he said apologetically.

“That’s understandable. I expected there would be some trial and error. By the way, I noticed the dwarves—are they helping with the parts?”

“Yes. They’ve been instrumental, especially in crafting the wringer drum and other components,” Orlan explained.

Penelope nodded, finally understanding why the dwarves were involved. They were collaborating on the wringer and iron projects.

It was clear that everyone had been working tirelessly. Orlan, Rector, Rub, and Katherin all had dark circles under their eyes.

I shouldn’t have /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ come.

Penelope regretted pressuring Ahwin to bring her here. As bad as constructive criticism might be, rushing them was worse.

One week was too soon.

Even in her previous life, prototypes often took months or even years to develop. Penelope knew this well, given her corporate background.

But Professor Orlan had promised results in ten days, and his confidence had made her optimistic.

He did deliver the hairdryer in less than a month.

Still, the wringer’s polished exterior gave her hope. It looked like it was ready to function, even if the reality was more complicated.

“Is it not working properly?” Penelope asked, trying to expedite the conversation.

“The drum fails to maintain balance when the machine starts. It seems to be an issue with centrifugal force,” Orlan admitted.

“Have you tested it with wet clothes yet?”

“...What?”

Orlan’s glasses slipped off his nose in shock.

“What?” Penelope echoed, equally confused.

“What?” Orlan repeated, flustered.

This back-and-forth felt like a never-ending loop. Finally regaining her composure, Penelope clarified, “I mean, have you tested it with actual wet clothes? The imbalance could be caused by the centrifugal force of the weight.”

“Bring wet clothes, now!” Rector bellowed.

Rub and Katherin darted out of the room, followed by a group of dwarves and mages.

Penelope jumped at the sudden commotion, her heart pounding. Goodness, that scared me...