~Chapter 02~
Knock, knock.
That day, as always, had been exhausting—filled with customers from start to finish.
After seeing off the last one, Lorienne stretched her arms and checked the time. It was later than usual, and it didn’t seem like anyone else would come, so she was about to close the shop.
But contrary to her expectations, there was another knock at the door.
Lorienne squeezed her eyes shut for a moment.
Turning away a customer just because she was tired was a luxury she couldn’t afford. She needed money—fast—if she wanted to buy back her brother, who had been sold into slavery in Rixir.
“Who is it?”
Lorienne opened the small viewing hatch.
A young man bent down to peer through it.
“Is this the Loftis Magic Potion Shop?”
“Take a step back.”
The smiling man obediently stepped back, revealing another person behind him. Lorienne quickly scanned both of them.
The one in the back must be the master. That cloak looks incredibly expensive, and even the servant is well dressed. Definitely a high-ranking noble.
It wasn’t always a perfect deduction, but she was usually right. Lorienne opened the door.
The man who had knocked wasn’t very tall, but he had a lean, sharp build. Behind him stood a much taller, larger man, his face completely hidden beneath a hood.
Two men… that’s a bit risky. But they definitely smell like money. Alright, I’ll take just this one last customer.
She led them inside and guided them to a table.
The man who sat down spoke with a gentle smile.
“Apologies for visiting so late.”
“It’s fine. Nobles prefer not to be seen when they come here. What kind of potion do you need?”
“Ah… well… could you, perhaps, make a potion that turns someone into a dog?”
The hooded man remained silent, while the one who had knocked glanced nervously at him before asking.
It wasn’t an unusual request. Nobles often wanted subtle transformations for secret amusements—animal ears, tails like a squirrel or fox, or hands turning into dog paws.
“What part do you want? Ears? Tail? Or paws?”
“Ah… well…”
The servant trailed off again, glancing at his master.
Then suddenly—
The hooded man threw off his hood and leaned back arrogantly in his chair, locking eyes with Lorienne.
“No. Not that nonsense. A dog. I want to become a dog.”
Lorienne had long trained herself not to show emotion in front of customers, but this time, her shoulders twitched slightly.
Not because of what he said—but because of his face.
In contrast to his imposing presence, the man revealed under the hood was strikingly handsome.
His slightly wavy blond hair framed a perfectly sculpted face, his sharp nose casting subtle shadows. Though his eyes were narrow and intense, their deep, clear green color gave him an oddly refreshing aura.
The mix of sharpness and vitality made it impossible to guess his age. He looked almost like a god who had borrowed a human body.
Lorienne stared back into his eyes and thought:
With a face like that, he wants to become a dog? Is this guy completely insane…?
Most men who wanted animal features were trying to compensate for their looks—hoping something cute would make them more appealing to women.
But this man clearly didn’t need that.
And he didn’t want just a feature—he wanted to become an actual dog.
Is he really planning to turn himself into a dog? Or is he trying to use the potion on someone else?
As Lorienne remained silent, staring at him, the man’s eyes narrowed slightly.
With a faint scoff, he spoke mockingly.
“So the rumors about a mage who can make anything… were exaggerated?”
His sharp gaze shifted to the servant, who shrank under the pressure.
It seemed the servant had been the one to recommend this shop.
The servant hurriedly leaned forward and asked:
“Is… is it impossible? I heard you could make anything people want…”
His eyes practically begged her to say yes.
Just as the handsome man beside him let out a scoff and began to stand—
“Don’t even think about using my potions for something underhanded.”
“What?”
“I’m saying—don’t even consider turning someone else into a dog with my potion.”
Lorienne met his gaze firmly, as if she could see right through him.
Instead of being offended, the man seemed intrigued. He crossed his arms and tilted his head.
“Then… you’re saying you can make a potion that turns me into a dog?”
“…If you’re the one taking it, then yes.”
“R-Really?!” the servant exclaimed, jumping to his feet.
Lorienne gave a small nod.
“But it’ll cost far more than other potions. And it’ll take time.”
“Of course! As long as you can make it, we’ll pay whatever it takes!”
The servant answered immediately, nodding vigorously.
It seemed his master truly intended to become a dog.
Didn’t even ask the price… must be ridiculously rich.
Lorienne felt a bit guilty for suspecting bad intentions.
If it was for personal use, she could make it—and get paid well. It was a win for her.
Unlike the bright-faced servant, the handsome man’s expression remained unchanged.
“How long will it take?”
“A week.”
He tilted his head slightly, clearly unimpressed.
“That’s too long.”
His gaze—arrogant, as if he’d never been denied anything—bored into her.
Lorienne shrugged.
“If you want my potions, you’ll have to wait. Everyone does.”
She tapped the pile of request forms stacked beside her.
He didn’t like that—but she didn’t look away.
“And I’ll need a strand of your hair now.”
“My hair?”
“It’s an ingredient. The potion is tailored specifically to the person who wants to become a dog.”
She emphasized again that it couldn’t be used on others.
“And for your information, the effect lasts only 30 minutes. If you die while transformed, you’ll die as a dog. That’s why I require the person who will drink it to provide their hair personally.”
The man nodded slightly, acknowledging her reasoning—though he frowned soon after.
“Thirty minutes is too short. Can’t it last longer?”
“No. This isn’t a partial transformation—it changes your entire body. That puts a heavy strain on the human body. You’re young and healthy, which is why you can last 30 minutes. If you were older, you’d barely last 15.”
Her tone was firm.
When he said nothing more, the servant quickly plucked out his own hair and handed it over.
“Please make one for me too. I should test it first—to make sure it’s safe for my… master.”
“Understood. I’ll prepare the request form.”
Lorienne pulled over paper, ink, and a pen.
“Tell me your name. Most people use fake ones, but that’s fine. It’s just to identify the potion’s owner.”
She dipped the pen in ink.
“Kyle Astum.”
Lorienne froze mid-writing and looked up at him.
The servant beside him trembled violently, his face filled with shock.
This guy… he’s insane—and fearless enough to use that name.
