"What exactly do you mean by 'take a trip to India'?"
Inside a mundane-looking apartment building near King's Cross Station, Vespa's hands stopped moving, though he didn't immediately turn around. He remained leaning slightly forward, inspecting the polish on a brass candlestick. Only after several seconds did he slowly turn to face his visitor, his expression as flat as his voice.
"Theodosia, what do you mean by 'take a trip to India'?" he repeated, his tone as casual as if they were discussing the weather.
"It means exactly what it sounds like. We're going to India," Theodosia replied, leaning against the doorframe as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Her hair, a messy blend of blonde and silver, looked indistinct in the dim light. Dressed in a loose black top and light blue jeans, she wore an expression of weary resignation.
"I understand the literal meaning. My question is... why me? Or rather, why the hell is it always me? A few nights ago, I was dragged through a sewer. Now you want me to go diving into another cesspool?"
Vespa set down the candlestick. Since only part of it had been buffed, the contrast in its shine was jarring. The metal clicked softly against the wooden workbench.
"Besides, what about all those magicians in 'Necessarius' who live off the taxpayers' hard-earned money? Those 'civil servants' are back in London, comfortably sipping afternoon tea and reading the papers in their cathedrals. But the moment there's a dirty job that requires wading through filth, they suddenly remember their 'outsourced contractor'?"
He put a sharp emphasis on the words "civil servant." Even through his face mask, Theodosia could sense the reflexive, disdainful click of his tongue. Having dealt with him many times before, she was unfazed by his tirade.
"I can't help it," she grumbled. "Every time a mission comes up that looks 'manageable but has a terrible location,' the duty roster somehow always points to me. It's like magic."
She sighed, stepping further into the workshop. The space, barely thirty square meters, was packed to the point of exploding. Rolls of cowhide and stacks of various metal ingots were piled like mountains; there was almost nowhere to step. Theodosia moved with extreme caution, knowing that one wrong move could trigger a localized "avalanche."
"Don't you think I'm just as tragic as the Little Match Girl, freezing to death on a winter night?" she asked, her gaze drifting to the top shelf. She reached out for a thick, pitch-black book whose cover bore no text, only a series of incredibly fine, etched spiral patterns. "What's this?"
She tried to pry the cover open, but it wouldn't budge. The book felt as if it had been welded shut.
Vespa watched her futile attempt for a moment before speaking up. "First, I think you should consider whether you've offended a Bishop or some other high-ranking member of the Puritan Church. Your problem isn't 'bad luck'; it sounds more like someone is intentionally giving you the boot..."
He straightened up, placing the wool polishing wheel attached to his rotary tool onto its stand. "And of course, I have to wonder about myself. An overseas investigation? I don't see how a 'spiritual item artisan' fits into that equation."
"Who knows? But listen—"
"Second," Vespa interrupted, "that thing in your hand is an 'Anti-Christian' spiritual item. You might be a Nordic-system magician, but unless you want to fry your brain and take an early retirement, I suggest you put it down."
Theodosia snatched her hand back as if she'd been burned. She cast a wary glance at the black book lying crookedly on the shelf and took a half-step back.
Vespa sighed, picking up the unpolished brass candlestick again to inspect the work he'd done. He continued the interrupted conversation. "So? Why me? You must have a reason."
"A set of 'abnormal astrological trajectories' appeared over Rajasthan, India."
"Over Rajasthan? Abnormal astrological trajectories? What the hell does that have to do with an artisan like me?" Vespa's skepticism was blatant as he stared at her in confusion.
"Look, usually when people say 'astrological anomaly,' they think of massive rituals or specialized spiritual items, right? Even if it's a natural phenomenon, they'd need temporary tools for suppression or sealing. Isn't that exactly your area of expertise?"
"That place? From the time India gained its 'independence' until now, I've never heard of a single organized magical cabal taking root there. Their native 'Navagraha' system has been reduced to a tourist gimmick for the most part; the actual techniques are virtually extinct. What kind of waves could they possibly make?"
Theodosia was prepared. The moment Vespa raised his doubts, she pulled a neatly folded document from an inconspicuous canvas bag and handed it to him.
Vespa glanced at the file, set down his candlestick, and unfolded the papers. The room fell into a dead silence. After a while, he placed the document back on the desk. He didn't comment on the data itself; instead, he looked back at Theodosia.
"Historically, there's a lack of reliable records concerning organized magical activity in the Rajasthan region. The source of this 'astrological anomaly' might not even be a local Indian cabal."
Vespa tapped the document with his finger. Theodosia's attention shifted from the surrounding "mountain of materials" to him.
"When intel is this severely lacking, it's a bad habit to jump to the conclusion that 'Indian magicians are causing trouble.'"
"The report mentions that," Theodosia nodded. "There are several possibilities. That's exactly why we need a field investigation. It's why they sent me... or rather, why they sent us."
She had skillfully grouped herself and Vespa together. Vespa didn't seem to notice—or care—about her little trick. He continued in a tone that sounded like he was defending his profession.
"I am a spiritual item artisan. Generally speaking, if people like me aren't carrying a significant amount of 'luggage,' we don't even have the right to stand on the edge of a battlefield as spectators, let alone venture into high-risk zones for missions."
"Exactly. That's why the Church told me to come find you," Theodosia agreed. As a practitioner who also relied on various magical tools, she understood the importance of being prepared.
Seeing that she had completely missed his point, Vespa finally showed a hint of impatience. "I still have several small repair orders on my desk that aren't finished. If I leave now, I'll have to work around the clock when I get back to meet the deadlines. The schedule will be incredibly tight."
"Then there's no time to lose; we have to leave immediately. With your efficiency, I'm sure you can hammer out those orders with a little overtime when we get back. If it comes down to it, I can even help you out~"
Vespa ignored her offer of "help." He went on as if she hadn't spoken. "Theodosia Electra, as a senior member of Necessarius, you should be very clear about the potential risk structure of this mission."
He used her full name, his voice low but carrying a strange, piercing weight. He picked up the report from the Royal Astronomical Research Institute and gave it a light shake.
"The report itself only states observed 'phenomena' and a few vague 'hypothetical deductions' based on data. It lacks the most critical elements: exact intel on the nature of the anomaly's source, intel on whether unknown local forces are involved, and intel on the current stability of the magical environment in that region."
"True, it is a bit of a headache."
"Unknown targets, unknown environment, and unknown potential hostility... these all constitute 'significant danger.' The danger doesn't lie in how strong the expected enemy might be, but in the 'unknown' itself. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
Theodosia was momentarily stunned by his sudden shift in intensity. His analysis cut straight to the bone. She thought Vespa had caught some critical clue or hidden message in that seemingly mundane report that she had overlooked. Her heart hammered against her ribs, her body tensing as she asked urgently, "Vesper, did you find something that wasn't written in the report?"
She instinctively scanned the document by his hand. She had read it several times before coming here but hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary.
Vespa watched her grow tense, then let out a long sigh. The cold, sharp aura around him receded like a tide, and he instantly reverted to the lazy artisan from before. He slumped back into his seat, looking totally defeated.
"No. What I mean is, given that the mission carries the aforementioned 'significant danger'..."
He paused for a beat, then spoke the line he had been building up to with a tone that was perfectly matter-of-fact—and even a little righteous.
"That's going to cost extra!"
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