Apparently, breakthrough doesn’t equal instant spellcasting ability.
"Practice it is," he replied, accepting that magical development followed the same route as everything else in his life, gradual improvement through persistent effort.
Noah headed to his shelf and retrieved the requested items.
Three loaves of healing bread, three bottles of iced tea.
"That will be ninety golden coins total."
Lola nodded and took out the payment without hesitation, her coin pouch producing the required amount.
"I’ll see you later today, or maybe tomorrow." She smiled with genuine warmth.
The door closed behind her with its familiar chime, leaving Noah alone with his burning curiosity about possibilities that had been theoretical until moments ago.
Finally. Time to test what I’ve been wanting to try forever now.
Noah raised his left hand, studying the storage ring that had remained frustratingly inert since Princess Elara had given it to him.
The simple band looked identical to before, but his mana sensitivity could now detect the magic contained within its modest appearance.
Level 5 Mana Control. Twenty Intelligence. Storage ring access should be possible now.
He focused his will toward the ring, channelling mana through pathways that had been inaccessible until his recent breakthrough.
The device responded immediately, flaring with activation energy.
Connection established. Finally.
The ring’s dimensional space opened to his consciousness like a door unlocking after years of being sealed. Noah could sense the interior, a modest storage area roughly the size of a large closet, currently empty.
It’s a 2-meter cube. It’s not as big as I had imagined, but it does the job.
He selected a loaf of bread from his shelf, concentrating on transferring it into the ring’s dimensional space.
The bread vanished from his hand, disappearing into storage.
Noah retrieved the bread with equal simplicity, watching it appear in his palm as if summoned from thin air. The process felt natural rather than forced, mana responding to his intentions without any complications.
No more carrying supplies in jacket pockets.
Princess Elara’s gift had finally become functional rather than decorative.
Noah experimented with storing and retrieving various items, each successful transfer building his confidence with dimensional magic. The ring’s capacity seemed generous enough for significant supply storage while remaining completely discrete.
The familiar chime announced his first customer of the afternoon, filling Noah with the satisfaction of someone whose business had developed reliable customers.
It seems like they’re finally starting to flow in.
Usually, when the first demon arrived, the rest would follow like a parade of enthusiasts. Noah’s customer base had developed a herd mentality that worked entirely in his favour.
The newcomer purchased the best-selling combo, bread and iced tea. Well, it wasn’t like there was any other combo. But regardless, it was still best-selling, and that’s what mattered.
A few hours passed in steady activity. Regular customers flowed through his doors with satisfying bell chimes constantly ringing, each transaction adding to his growing wealth while depleting his carefully managed inventory.
But there was one notable absence.
Viscount Vex hadn’t made his usual dramatic entrance, complete with flowering commentary and aristocratic flourishes.
Where’s the plant-obsessed nobleman?
As if summoned by Noah’s thoughts, the shop door burst open with energy. Vex swept inside with his usual cape-billowing entrance, Precious tucked behind his ear like the world’s most dangerous hair accessory.
Speak of the devil. Or demon, in this case.
"Sigh," Vex announced to the universe, his voice carrying unhidden frustration. "I hate meetings. I had to delay feeding my Precious."
The carnivorous flower responded by extending tiny vine-fingers to caress Vex’s cheek with obvious affection, its needle-sharp teeth clicking in what might have been sympathy.
His plant is so affectionate, it’s consoling him, too. Sadly, Star and Moon can’t speak. Otherwise, it might’ve been fun to hang out with them, but scary at the same time.
Vex’s eyes landed on Star and Moon, and his entire demeanour changed from frustration to genuine shock.
His jaw dropped so far it practically hit the floor.
He rushed over to the cultivation plants with the urgency of someone who’d discovered buried treasure, then whirled to face Noah with wide eyes.
"Where did you get the second one from?"
Noah smiled mysteriously, channelling his best enigmatic shopkeeper energy. "I received it as a gift from a passerby. He saw the demonic Moonburgh you gave me in the shop and decided to gift me another."
Technically true. The system counts as a passerby, right?
"Really? Do you know who it was?"
Noah shook his head with innocence.
"He didn’t say. Just bought something and left."
"What did he look like?"
Oh no. Here come the investigative questions.
Noah cried without tears internally.
He’s asking so many questions... thank god I said it was a stranger, otherwise he would want to meet them too.
"Not sure," Noah replied with deliberately vague helplessness.
"Happened pretty quickly."
Please stop asking questions I can’t answer without sounding insane.
After several more attempts to extract non-existent information, Vex finally surrendered his interrogation efforts.
"Can I have the usual order?" he asked, then immediately launched into what sounded like a prepared business proposal.
"Also, when are you planning to expand your sales? Or is that not happening anytime soon? Perhaps you don’t have enough workers? If you don’t, I can send you some of my servants to help. Or if it’s a resources issue, just let me know and I’ll sort it out."
His voice climbed with increasing desperation.
"I need more of your products. Precious only eats them now."
His carnivorous flower has become a picky eater. Of course it has.
Noah laughed at the absurdity of a demon viscount offering to solve his staffing problems because his pet plant had developed expensive tastes.
"It’s none of those problems. It’s just a constraint on the production procedure. Workers and resources don’t matter."
How do I explain that a system controls my inventory without sounding completely unhinged?
Vex nodded, though his expression suggested someone trying to solve a puzzle with missing pieces.
"Production procedure," he repeated slowly, as if testing the words for hidden meaning.
He’s not convinced. But at least he’s stopped asking questions I can’t answer.