Ascendance of a Bookworm (LN) - Volume 1.2 - Chapter 5

Ordering Tools and Materials 

After leaving Benno’s place, Mark guided Lutz and me to our storage building by the south gate. The area around the south gate had become something of a craftsman’s alley, so there were plenty of warehouses, storage buildings, and so on. Craftsmen used water more than most, so there were more wells than there were in residential districts too. 

The storage building Mark guided us to was indeed right next to a well. It wasn’t that large, maybe about as big an especially large closet. The walls still had several shelves nailed into them, indicative of how a craftsman used to use this building to store materials. The floor was clean and although things were a little dusty, I didn’t need to go on a cleaning rampage. I looked around and saw that there was already a pot and a bag of something placed in the corner. 

“We are operating such that the goods are delivered to our store, then an employee takes them here. We took the pot and ashes here yesterday, as you can see. Today we will be bringing a large tub and weights. Please stay here until they arrive.” Mark pointed at the black pot. 

I felt gratitude toward Benno well up from the bottom of my heart. Here before us was a pot that Lutz and I never could have gotten on our own. 

“Wow, a pot! Lutz, do you think you can carry this pot?” 

“Yeah, that should be okay. Especially since I can stick it on my back carrier.” 

“Okay, let’s start measuring. We need to figure out how big the steamer needs to be.” I still had the stuff to write supply orders in my tote bag. I took out the tape measure, but Lutz snatched it out of my hands. 

“Nothing wrong with measuring, but wait a bit to calm down. You’ll get sick again if you get too excited.” 

“Ngh...” 

Mark smiled at our little exchange. “There seems to be no problems with this storage building, so I will return to the store. We are planning to go to the lumber yard tomorrow, so please finish all preparations and measuring ahead of time. I will be leaving the store at about third bell and should arrive at the plaza not long after.” 

“Okay, I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you for everything.” 

Mark held out a key attached to a chain long enough to wear as a necklace. “I will entrust the key to this storage building to the both of you. Please remember to lock it behind you, and be sure to return the key to the store afterward, even if Lutz must go alone. Understand?” 

Lutz took the heavy-looking key and Mark left. 

“Lutz, what should we do first?” The storage building had been unused for a bit and thus lacked a box or chair or anything for us to sit on. There was nowhere to rest. 

“Guess we better start bringing our stuff in. The frame we’ve made, the bamboo, the nails...” 

“That’s a good idea. We need to decide how big of a steamer we want today and write down what size of wood we need, right? I’ll check the supply orders I’ve written to make sure I’m not forgetting any wood we need... Also, I guess we can make the bamboo strip examples here?” 

“Yeah, since we’ll be needing tools for that.” 

I wrote what we needed to do today on my slate and rested it against the storage building’s wall. With that done, I didn’t need to worry about forgetting anything. 

Lutz and I went home together and began carrying things to the storage building. I had no idea where we were due to my lack of familiarity with the city, but Lutz was on top of things and walked steadily in the direction of home through thin, winding alleyways. As I wondered just how close it was to my home, we arrived and I learned that the answer was “pretty close.” Very nice for someone with as little stamina as me. 

“Alright, put your stuff in a basket and bring it down.” 

“Okay.” The only thing we needed from my place was the nails. Lutz’s family consisted of carpenters and builders, so if the nails were left at his home it was very likely that someone would accidentally take them or otherwise intentionally steal them. On the other hand, the frame and the bamboo would be mistaken as firewood and burned at my home, so we left them at Lutz’s place. 

I put the bag of nails and my knife into a basket, then threw in a large rag and broom that caught my eye. There wasn’t anything I could sit on in the storage building, so I at least would like to clean the floor and spread out the rag to sit on. 

I climbed down the stairs and Lutz was already waiting for me, his basket filled with various wood things. “What’s all that stuff, Lutz?” 

“Things that Ralph messed up building lately. I was thinking we could use them as chairs.” 

“Ahaha, and I brought a rag so we could clean a place to sit.” 

We returned to the storage building, placed the nails on top of a shelf, and lined up the bamboo in the corner. I then took out my tape measure to measure the size of the pot and decide on what size steamer we needed. I wrote how long the wood would need to be on the stone slate. 

“We’re good now, right?” 

“Uh huh.” 

We needed a lot of wood from the lumber yard. Materials for the steamer, lumber to beat fibers, a long flat board and stand to serve as a draining bed, a relatively thin board to stick the paper onto for drying, bamboo for making strips out of, and the wood to turn into paper. I looked over the supply orders and considered which kind of wood would be best for each thing: hard wood, soft wood, thoroughly dried wood, young wood, etc. 

“Guess we just gotta get to work on the bamboo now.” 

“Uh huh. Can you shave them down? They need to be smaller and thinner than the mokkan were.” 

“Yeah, those were big enough. Dunno how well small strips will go.” 

Lutz took the lead and started making strips out of the bamboo. It was possible to do long, sweeping cuts and accomplish a lot really fast, but getting the strips properly thin was hard. I could tell he was struggling with it. 

“I’ll try too. Maybe I’ll be good at detailed work like this.” I took out my knife and tried cutting the bamboo thin, but most of it just snapped in half midway through. When I tried going slower to not break them, they ended up covered in bumps and ridges, making them unusable. “This is really hard.” 

We had to cut a bunch of bamboo strips to fit the length of the frame. This was work best left to a professional. It would take too much time and skill for us to manage alone.

“I’m here with a delivery!” In the midst of our working, an employee from Benno’s store brought a large tub and weights just heavy enough for Lutz to use on his own. I had the employee place them next to the pot. 

“Myne, now that we’ve gotten the delivery, let’s close up for today.” Lutz started packing up his tools after the employee left. But it wasn’t even noon, which meant that I still had plenty of energy left. 

“But I’m still feeling fine.” 

“Tomorrow’s gonna be real busy. You should rest today. Didn’t you say you were on food duty tonight?” 

“Oh, that’s right.” My turn to make food had passed while I was bedridden. Tuuli had taken care of it in my place, and so today I was doing it for her in turn. 

“Plus, I gotta do some extra chores today so I have the spare time to go to the lumber yard tomorrow. So yeah, let’s go home already. I’ll get the key back to them after walking you home.” 

I nodded, aware that I was presently dead weight, and started getting my stuff together.

The next day, we met up with Mark in the plaza a little after third bell and went to the lumber yard. Benno opened his store a little before second bell, so the time from then to third bell was the busiest for them. 

Since Lutz was with us today, we safely reached the lumber yard without me passing out along the way. There were logs stacked in pyramid shapes and leaning against walls in a way that made the whole place look somewhat similar to the lumber yards in Japan. The main difference was that there were no machines here, so the whole yard consisted of extremely muscular macho men walking around, shouting to each other while carrying and chopping the wood themselves. The word “lively” fit this place to a T. It was so lively it was honestly kind of scary. 

“Hello, foreman. It has been some time.” 

“Ahh, Mark, huh? How’s that kid Benno doin’?” 

“Quite well. As for my business today, these two are looking for wood.” Mark greeted the lumber yard’s foreman, a bald guy with streaks of gray in his bristly beard. 

“This little girl and boy? The heck kinda wood are they lookin’ for?” The burly foreman whose muscles contradicted his age looked down at me with surprise and I had to stifle a squeak. 

“Um, I want wood to make a steamer...” 

“Aaah? Ya want what kinda wood?” He repeated his question, looking confused. I stumbled for words. Lutz and Mark recognized what I meant by steamer, but maybe this foreman didn’t. Or maybe I just had to specifically describe the kind of wood I wanted. 

“Ummm, I want steamy... rather, I want hard, dry wood that won’t change shape from being exposed to steam. What kind of wood is that?” 

“Dry and hard wood, huh? Alright, I’ve got an idea of what ya want.” The foreman nodded to himself and listed three names. “Schwalnuss, trocknen, and pedibay sound about right. Which ya want?” 

“I can’t really make an informed decision here... What do you think, Lutz?” I didn’t recognize any of the candidates. Turning to my side, I looked up at my friend. 

“Mmm, I’m guessing schwalnuss will be the easiest to work with.” 

“Then we will order schwalnuss. Have you decided on the size?” said Mark. I nodded in reply and took out the supply order from my tote bag, then had Mark look over it to make sure there were no mistakes. “Everything seems to be in order. Foreman, please cut the schwalnuss to these specifications and bring them to our store.” 

The foreman took the supply order and, after running his eyes over it, handed the board to a young macho man walking nearby with a curt “Ya got work to do.” 

“Um, I would also like a thick board of wood that likewise won’t change shape when wet, plus a stand to put it on.” 

“We sell wood, but we don’t make stuff out of it. If ya want a stand, go to a furniture place or make it yourself. Want more schwalnuss for it?” I gave a firm nod and handed over the supply order for the thick board of wood. He gave a snort while looking it over. I then handed him yet another one. “Sure are buyin ’ a lot, huh?” 

“I still have more, too. I would like two kinda thin boards that are fine getting wet...” 

“How thin? Even the hardest wood’ll get all bendy if it ain’t thick enough,” said the foreman. 

I searched my memories. I envisioned a board with paper stuck on it, then slapped my hands together. I took out my stone slate and started to scratch a drawing onto it. “Ummm, I would like it to be just thick enough that it won’t bend with supports like this holding it up. We need it to be light so Lutz can carry it, since I definitely won’t be able to.” 

“Ha. Anyone who can’t carry that much wood is a failure of man.” There was no point comparing Lutz to this extremely muscular foreman. I turned to look at Lutz, a little worried, but his face scrunched up before I could say anything. 

“I’m a real man, it’ll be fine.” Lutz was acting tough and would probably suffer for it later, but it would probably hurt his manly pride if I said anything, so I kept quiet. 

“I also want hard rectangular lumber, shaped kind of like a club or a laundry stick. It needs to be small and light enough for Lutz to carry around and swing.” 

“Clubs and laundry sticks are a lot different, lassie. What’re you gonna be hitting?” I had just said things used to hit other things, but now that he mentioned it, a club used as a weapon would definitely be different from the laundry stick that Mom used to hit her clothes. 

“Wood fibers. We’re going to boil wood until it’s soft, then hit it until the fibers are fluffy like cotton.” 

“What for?” 

“That’s a secret.” I made an X with my fingers over my mouth, to which the foreman snorted. 

“The weight and hardness balance is real important. Gotta ask, what kinda block are you gonna be hitting it on? Stone? Wood? That’ll change everything.” 

I felt the blood drain from my face. I had completely forgotten that we needed a block for hitting the wood on. “...I-I didn’t think about that. R-Right, I need a block for hitting things! Can I ask for a block and club together as a set? I-I’ll write the supply order right now!” 

“If you’re gonna order’m as a set, you can just add it to this one. Girl, you can write?” 

“Yes?” With my head full of my unexpected mistake, I immediately took out the ink, pen, and measure from my tote bag and started adding a description for the block beneath the club. “Foreman, is this okay?” 

“Yeah. Is that all?” 

“No, I would also like wood with... lengthy, strong fibers? If possible, I would like the fibers to be sticky, such that I can get a lot of fibers that stick together easily. I’ve heard that trees about one year old are good for this. After two years, their fibers harden and get more knotty, which isn’t good for what I want. I would like soft, young wood.” 

I gave a description of wood that would be good for paper-making, but the foreman didn’t have the best reaction. He stroked his beard while furrowing his brows. “We don’t deal with young wood like that, ’cause it’s not that useful.” Apparently, lumber yards didn’t deal with one-year-old trees unless they were specially ordered. 

“If there’s any wood that fits those conditions, would you tell me the species of tree? I don’t know which trees are good for what I want, so my plan is to experiment with various kinds. Would you order some if I settle on one type?” 

“All I can say is, it depends on how much. Too little and it won’t be worth it for us.” 

“I understand. Lutz, do you know the names of trees around here and where they can be found? I’m sure they’ll all look the same to me.” It seemed that we were stuck with finding the best wood to make paper on our own. After making our prototypes and finding which wood was the best, we could move into mass production and order the wood we wanted in bulk. 

As a young macho man taught Lutz about how to identify various kinds of wood, I showed the foreman our strips of bamboo and asked a follow-up question. “Oh, also. I want bamboo strips like this. Do you sell bamboo here?” 

“Not much, but some.” The foreman pointed further inside past the pile of wood. I could see a bit of familiar bamboo inside. 

“Could you make strips like these for us?” 

“That kinda detailed work is for specialists. Ask a craftsman.” 

“A craftsman, okay. Thank you very much. Um, that’s all I’ll be ordering today.” 

“A’ight. Just gotta deliver it all to Benno’s store when it’s ready, yeah?” said the foreman, looking at the last supply order. 

All the supply orders I had given him were under Benno’s name. Since he was funding our paper-making in return for the rights to the simple all-in-one shampoo, he ended up as the one ordering the material on the forms. He told me that it was very important from the perspective of the contract magic that the goods be delivered to his store first, then given to us. 

“Yes. Thank you for your assistance.” I watched the foreman get back to work. While waiting for Lutz to come back, I checked my bag to make sure I didn’t miss any supply orders. I still had the order for the stand, which I had been told to give to a furniture maker, and the order for the bamboo strips, which I had been told to give to a craftsman. 

Mmm... What should I do about the stand for putting the draining bed on? I mean, the hitting block is one thing, but I don’t think we should go so far as to ask a specialist to make a simple stand for us. 

“...Mr. Mark, do you have some spare wooden boxes in your store that could serve as a stand? I feel like it’d be a waste to go to a furniture maker just for something like that.” 

“Very well. I will prepare the wooden boxes for you. How many do you need?” 

“We want to put a board on top of them, so about two of the same size. I would also like two or three extra ones too, if possible. They can be different sizes.” 

Mark agreed to get the boxes for us, explaining that it would be cheaper than ordering them from a furniture maker. “We can go to a craftsman tomorrow. Will that be all for today?” 

“Yes. Thank you very much.”

The next day, we went to the forest and gathered firewood. While we were at it, we searched for wood that would be good for paper-making. 

Lutz was much more familiar with the different types of trees, so I basically left it all to him. The trees genuinely all looked the same to me. I knew that the bark and texture differed between them, but there were so many different kinds that they all blurred together. 

We then went to Benno’s store to get the key in order to put what we had gathered into the storage building. Mark greeted us and informed me that he had contacted a craftsman. Holy cow. Mark’s like, super capable. He works so fast. 

He scheduled an appointment with a craftsman for five days after we had gone to the lumber yard. We met up in the plaza past third bell as usual and headed to the craftsman’s place. The craftsman specializing in wood was, naturally, located in the craftsman’s alley by the south gate. 

Unlike the lumber yard foreman, the craftsman was on the thin side. He had the muscles he needed to do his job, but his slight build emphasized that he didn’t need any more muscles than that. His long ashen hair was haphazardly bundled behind his back. It was clear that he didn’t care how it looked as long as it was out of his way. 

“What’s the job?” He had the sharp gaze of an intellectual craftsman and I couldn’t help but squeeze Mark’s shirt as he looked me up and down. 

“We would like bamboo strips. When we asked a lumber yard to make them, we were told to go to a craftsman...” I took out a bamboo strip from my tote bag and handed it to the craftsman, who ran his fingers over the bumps and ridges. 

“You want them like this?” 

“If possible, I would like perfectly flat and straight strips, but...” 

“Yeah, if this shoddy thing’s the best you could do, you were right to come to me. I’ll take the job. Are those the raw materials?” The craftsman pointed out Lutz’s basket, which had bamboo poking out of it. Lutz took the pieces of bamboo we had brought to the storage building yesterday and lined them up next to each other. 

“Is that all?” 

“Um! I would also like you to make this screen. Would that be too much?” I drew the design on my stone slate and explained how to make it using the messed-up strip to emphasize it. Apparently, even my poor explanation was enough for the craftsman to figure out what I wanted. 

“It’ll be a real pain, but not impossible.” 

“Really? Wow!” 

“But I’ll need sturdy string to do it. Bring me sturdy string before ordering this,” said the craftsman, waving us off. But we couldn’t just leave yet. I had no idea what constituted as sturdy string to him. 

“Um, I’m sorry. I’m not sure which kind of string would be sturdy enough for this. Would you show me which we need?” 

“If you’re willing to go to a thread store now, I can go with you.” The craftsman looked surly and unpleasant on the outside, but was surprisingly helpful. 

That made me so happy I immediately pumped my fist and said “Let’s go!”, only to get hit on the head from behind by Lutz. I turned around, holding my head, and saw Lutz glaring at me with his green eyes narrowed with frustration. 

“C’mon, Myne. Don’t get ahead of yourself. You’re the one that’s gonna pass out.” 

“It seems that Myne wishes for me to carry her today as well.” 

“Bwuh?!” 

Mark must have clearly remembered that I didn’t like being carried by him, judging by the smile on his face that allowed no debate. I started to steadily back away, but then heard the carpenter speak with an annoyed tone. 

“Are we going or not?” 

“We are going, of course. Myne already said we would. Come now.” Mark captured me, lifted me up, and then carried me to the thread store. We went much faster since nobody had to match my snail’s pace. 

While being surprised on the inside over how little I was bouncing despite being carried, I sighed into Mark’s shoulders. ...I’m trying my best, but I’m still dead weight. 

The thread store was also in the craftsman’s alley, so it wasn’t that far away. But as an adult (mentally speaking), I couldn’t bear to have Mark carry me for longer than strictly necessary. He finally let me down at the store and I stepped inside on my own two legs. 

“Wooow, there’s so much thread!” 

“What’d you expect from a thread store?” replied the craftsman calmly, but still, there was an overwhelming amount of thread here. 

In this city, the stands at the market generally only displayed as much stuff as a single person could carry, and the stores by the main street generally kept the majority of their products in warehouses and closed cabinets to prevent theft, leaving only a few out in the open to serve as samples. It was uncommon to see a store with so much stuff readily on display. 

“Which of these types of thread would be sturdy enough?” In Japan, we used raw silk to make suketa screens. But I didn’t even know if this world had silk or silkworms at all. It was impossible for me to know which type of thread was strong enough for my purposes. 

“Spinne silk’s the strongest. Especially when gathered during the autumn breeding season. Pretty expensive, though.” The craftsman asked with his eyes whether I’d buy it, so I in turn looked at Mark. I wasn’t the one paying here. The ultimate decision rested on Mark, who was borrowing Benno’s wallet. 

“Spinne silk is quite fine, but there should be no need to specifically buy silk from autumn.” 

“...Yeah, but it’s still pretty expensive either way.” 

Spinne string was apparently quite expensive stuff. The craftsman looked back and forth between Mark and me in surprise, having apparently intended to start with the best stuff and work down from there. 

“Spinne silk will be fine. However, I will not forgive failure or complaints. Please finish the product without fail.” Mark took the order for bamboo strips and the screens from me and handed it to the craftsman with a smile. 

“...You got it.” 

Two screens the size of a postcard, matching our frame. That was the final tool we needed to order. I let out a sigh of relief now that all that was done.

The next day, I waited at the storage building until everything was delivered. Once it was, Lutz and I started making the tools we needed. In the interim we went gathering in the forest, did chores at home to avoid our family’s ire, and gathered our raw materials. We needed edile fruit or the juices of a shram bug, but for now we were using edile fruit. 

The juices of an edile fruit were sticky, and during winter preparations it was common to soak rags in them for use in blocking gaps in windows. Due to that, their price would soon be rising and fewer of them would be on the market. We planned to switch to shram bugs if we ran out of edile fruit. 

Mark and Lutz went to buy edile fruit on their own while I was sick with a fever. Mark said that it was a good opportunity for Lutz to build up experience working without me, which made me wonder if I was butting in a little too much. 

In any case, by the time everything arrived and I was healthy enough to start making paper, a month and a half had passed since I had first met Benno and declared that I would make paper for him.