Bab 9: Chapter 9: Invitation
Weeks had passed since Tarren had struck his first deal with the Kirraman family. Now, he found himself strolling through the bustling streets of Sidereal Avenue, a hub of commerce for Piltover citizens. The gleaming storefronts reflected the golden light of the afternoon, and he could hear the excited chatter of shoppers.
He had just exited the Ecliptic Vaults, Piltover's premier bank, a small pouch of freshly withdrawn gold coins tucked safely into his pocket. It was more wealth than he'd ever seen in his life, enough to last him months. Tarren had quickly learned the art of frugality back in the undercity, but now, with resources in hand, he allowed himself the rare luxury of satisfaction.
As he walked, his eyes caught sight of a small crowd of women in elegant dresses clustered around a storefront. They were gathered near an advertisement—a depiction of one of his inventions, the egg timer and the needle threader, alongside a glowing endorsement. Some of the women examined the timers displayed in the window, while others were already making purchases.
After a few more turns down quieter streets, he arrived at a familiar mechanical shop. It was a small, cluttered space that smelled of oil and rust, run by a grizzled owner with a knack for sourcing peculiar odds and ends. Tarren stepped inside, hearing the chime of a bell overhead.
The shopkeeper sat at his counter, diligently using one of Tarren's coin sorters. Copper, silver, and gold coins clinked into their respective trays as the man hummed to himself.
"Back already?" the shopkeeper asked without looking up. "You've been coming in so often. What are you working on now, lad?"
Tarren chuckled, moving to a corner to sift through the bins of cogs and machine parts. "Nothing specific. Just tinkering."
The shopkeeper grunted. "Tinkering, huh? Need anything special this time?"
Tarren paused, holding up a small cog. "Actually, yeah. Got anything made of petricite?"
The shopkeeper let out a bark of laughter. "Petricite? You've a better chance of finding gold in the sewers. No, boy, no one here has anything like that. That's away in Demacia."
Tarren shrugged. "Can't hurt to ask."
—
With his materials purchased, he headed back to his dormitory workshop. The space had become his sanctuary—a cluttered room where mechanical parts and schematics sprawled across every surface. Sitting at his desk, he resumed working on a new design.
The chalkboard in front of him was filled with the intricate blueprint of a full-body suit of armor. The notes scrawled around the edges hinted at Tarren's thoughts:
-Titanium for durability?
-Petricite for flexibility and magic resistance?
-Need crystal for the power: find Jayce.
-Possible future chemtech integration? Should I even allow chemtech to exist?
The suit was still a dream—many of the materials he needed were out of reach, and the weaponry he envisioned was purely theoretical. But he couldn't help himself; the idea drove him forward.
A knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts. "Come in," Tarren called.
The door opened, and Viktor stepped inside, walking with his cane. The older inventor's curious gaze swept over the room, taking in the controlled chaos.
"Busy as always," Viktor remarked, his lips curling into a faint smile.
Tarren quickly flipped the chalkboard over, hiding the armor's schematics. "Just keeping myself occupied," he said, standing to greet him.
Viktor glanced at the desk, then back to Tarren. "Your products are spreading through the city like wildfire. I've heard they're quite successful. Perhaps you're richer than me now?"
Tarren laughed nervously. "Not quite."
Viktor reached into his coat and pulled out a sealed envelope. "The Kirraman household sent this to the dormitory. It's for you."
Tarren accepted the letter, cutting it open with a small knife. As he read the contents, his eyes widened. "Dinner… with the Kirraman family?"
Viktor hummed, impressed. "An invitation to dine with the Kirraman family is an honor. Congratulations."
Tarren frowned, rubbing the back of his neck. "I've never been to anything like this. I don't even know the proper etiquette for something so formal."
Viktor chuckled. "I could teach you, if you'd like."
Tarren's face lit up. "Really? That'd be a huge help!"
Then, as if remembering something, Tarren snapped his fingers. "Wait here for a moment," he said, heading to a corner of the workshop. He returned with a strange contraption: a lightweight exoskeleton leg brace.
"What's this?" Viktor asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Just a side project," Tarren said, kneeling to fit the brace around Viktor's lame leg. "It's designed to shift weight and lock certain movements, taking the strain off your leg. Theoretically, it should let you walk without a cane."
Viktor hesitated but eventually nodded. He stood slowly, testing the brace. At first, it seemed promising, but after a few steps, his leg gave way. Tarren caught him before he could fall, guiding him back to the chair.
"It's not perfect yet," Tarren admitted, removing the brace.
Viktor shook his head, smiling faintly. "I appreciate the effort. Truly."
Tarren shrugged. "Without you, I wouldn't even be here. It's the least I can do."
Viktor stood again, leaning on his cane this time. "Thank you, Tarren. Then we'll go over etiquette later."
"Alright," Tarren promised.
As Viktor left, Tarren sat back down at his desk, sighing as he spun the board again to see his schematics again.
"So much to do…" he murmured. "So little time…"
He then turned to a chest nearby, opening it. Inside was an array of strange gadgets and two revolvers. He took a deep breath, and released it slowly.
He thought that it's time to do the dirty deeds now rather than later, so that it won't grow much further.
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone