The Wrong Summon: Flaw Repair Guide

Outside was dark, well past midnight. Strange. They had entered the dungeon early that morning. Jacob glanced at the sky, puzzled, but quickly pieced it together.

Time probably moved differently in dungeons. Another thing to add to the growing list of things he didn't understand but would have to get used to.

The gang made their way back to Versaliter. Two guards were stationed at the gate.

"Identification," one of them asked.

Rowan wordlessly dug through his bag, pulling out a stack of worn IDs. The guard skimmed through them, barely glancing before waving them through.

Jacob's heart thudded in his chest. He kept his expression calm, steady.

The IDs were fake.

They always had been.

Demons couldn't be citizens. If they got caught, it wouldn't just be deportation, it'd be a death sentence. The gang had been living off of stolen identities long before Jacob showed up. They simply found ones that bared a close enough resemblance. He wasn't Jacob Lee here. According to the ID, his name was Oriath Litske.

Not bad. I could live with that.

They entered the bar that was loud, crowded, and humid with the stink of alcohol and sweat. Rowan's glare was enough to scatter the lingering stares, but Jacob's attempt to copy it came off more like an anxious puppy trying to look tough. Emma guarded the young Elaina in her arms, disappearing into the employee room.

Dylan manned the counter, mixing drinks, breaking up fights. He barely glanced at them.

They cut through the noise, slipping into the quieter center of the base. Marinette sat on the couch, reading, gold-rimmed glasses perched low on her nose. She glanced up at the sound of their arrival.

"You're back. Was the hunt successful?" she asked, voice soft but steady, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"Yeah." Rowan handed over the cracked core.

"I'll have Dylan repair it. Anything else?"

"No, the dungeon was barren. There was only a large desert and nothing valuable to dig up." Elaina explained.

"Then, you guys should get some rest. You all are probably exhausted. Good work today." 

"Don't have to tell me twice!" Emma yawned before running to her room. Rowan chased after her. Elaina wanted to stay with Mary but was chased away on the terms of "going past her bedtime", pfft. 

Jacob simply stated goodnight before going to his room. He wasn't tired since he didn't do much today and started meditating. He closed his eyes with his legs crossed, feeling the light warmth in his core. He needed to expand his mind; to get his imagination flowing like his mana. He felt the warmth in his meridians and mentally cut off a pathway in his right arm. Instantly, he could feel the rest of his body feeling stronger, but he could only keep this mental image for so long before getting distracted by other thoughts. 

Through his personal training over these weeks, he could feel that his senses got slightly sharper. It was a noticeable change, though only a slight increase. Who would've known that training mental strength would be so difficult. After only half an hour, it felt like his brain was overheating. Jacob panted heavily. Breathing was difficult as he sometimes forgot to breathe through his nose, usually holding his breath while practicing.

Ares sends a message

"How are you feeling, kid?"

"Exhausted, mentally and physically. Today was fun though, but just watching isn't enough. I want to be of help too. I want to feel useful." Jacob laid flat on his bed, face up.

Ares sends a message

That's the spirit. Rest well.

Yeah… I'm going to… take a nap.

Sleep tugged him under quickly.

…

He didn't know how long he was out. But when Jacob jolted awake, his throat was dry, his mouth sticky. He fumbled around the nightstand for water, only to find it empty. Groaning, he dragged himself out of bed and shuffled toward the kitchen, passing through the base's center on the way.

He froze.

Marinette sat on the couch, slumped with a quill in her hand. The blanket half-slipped off her snow-white shoulders. Her glasses were still perched on her nose, one lens slightly crooked.

Jacob stepped quietly, careful not to wake her. But the moment his foot hit the floor, her eyes snapped open, sharp and alert.

"Oh, it's you." Her voice was rough, sleep still clinging to her words. "Why are you up so late?"

"Could ask you the same thing. I just wanted some water. What about you?"

"Just checking over finances and some other stuff." Marinette yawned.

"Get your water and head back to bed, it'll be a busy day tomorrow after all." She continued, forcing a smile.

Jacob ignored her and promptly sat down uninvited. 

"What other stuff? Let me see what I can do to help." Jacob stated bluntly. 

"You don't have to; I can handle it. It's normal." She insisted.

Jacob didn't listen, picking up a piece of parchment paper with a bunch of numbers on it.

"Were you keeping track of spending?"

Marinette sighed, realizing that Jacob wouldn't be leaving.

"Yeah. We've been a bit…tight on funding lately so I'm seeing if we can make it until winter." She admitted. 

"I got to add other expenses too. We haven't bought you new clothes yet. You can't keep borrowing Rowan's forever, your builds are too different." 

She was right. Jacob's clothes were very baggy, even when tucked in. 

He pulled at his sleeve, noticing that his thin arm only took up half the width.

"...I'll get the muscle mass back eventually. I don't need new clothes, it gives me a goal to work on until I finally fit into it." Jacob sighs melancholically, his fist clenched. 

The older woman chuckles lightly.

"We can afford to buy you new clothing. Plus, you've been saving us a lot on food expenses by cooking." She adds. 

"How about this, I'll add up the expenses and organize while you do the paperwork. Deal?" Jacob suggested. 

Her brow arched. "You're not going to leave me alone until I say yes, huh?"

"Correcto."

She exhaled in defeat, the ghost of a smile tugging at her lips.

"Alright. Less work for me."

So the two of them worked side by side deep into the night, the quiet scratching of quills filling the room of their comfortable silence.