Ruby gently traced her fingers over the fresh design sketch, the lines still soft in pencil but already full of purpose. A faint smile touched her lips.
"Jules’ Monsoon Collection."
That’s what she would call it.
It wasn’t just a name..it was a feeling. Warmth during storms. Safety in the harsh world. A soft embrace wrapped in fabric.
But even as the name made her heart flutter, her mind turned sharp. This wasn’t just about aesthetics. In this world, the rainy season was dangerous—not just cold or wet like in her old world. Here, the rainwater stung faintly, sometimes even caused burns if touched too long. The streets turned muddy and unstable, and travel became difficult for many.
She couldn’t make something flimsy.
She needed protection and elegance.
That’s when she remembered—Fabricated Fabric.
According to the original owner’s memories, only a few witches and city-level tailors had access to it. It looked like normal cloth—lightweight, soft, even shiny under certain lighting but it was water-repellent, fire-resistant, and temperature-regulating.
Perfect for monsoon wear.
But rare and expensive.
Her usual fabric supplier wouldn’t stock something . Still, she made a mental note:
"Ask Ethan if he can contact his trade sources. If not, maybe she’d need to make a trip to the city herself again soon."
She picked up her pen and added small details to her sketch—tiny inside pockets for warming stones, wide hoods with reinforced edges, and robe hems that curved upward to avoid mud splashes.
Each design held thought and purpose.
Ruby leaned back and whispered to herself, "If I’m going to sell robes for the rain, they’ll be the best in this world."
She wasn’t just dressing people.
She was giving them safety.
Wrapped in a promise. A promise she named after the one who gave her peace.
The next morning, Ruby sat in her office, a fresh file open in front of her, but her mind wasn’t on the paperwork.
Her thoughts were still tangled in fabric.
She had sent someone to inquire about Fabricated Fabric—the special material required for her monsoon collection. But the news that returned wasn’t promising.
The fabric’s raw material came only from one specific farming village, far from the city and untouched by most of the outside market. And worse, the farmers there had completely refused to sell. Not just to her—to anyone.
"Why?" Ruby had asked, brows furrowed.
And the answer made her chest ache in anger.
City witches those slick, sharp-tongued traders who wore smiles like masks had tricked the villagers last year. They’d taken tons of raw material, promising fair deals, only to resell it at high prices without paying the farmers properly. Some even forged contracts, leaving the small farming families with nothing but debt and bitterness.
Since then, the village refused to sell to outsiders. No matter how much money was offered.
The entire Fabricated Fabric industry had been on a slow freeze because of it and that’s why most witches now resorted to overpriced black-market options. Ruby hated that route.
But this also meant one thing:
She had to go there herself.
"I’ll talk to them," Ruby murmured to herself. "I won’t cheat them. I’ll offer them real benefits, something fair—something long-term."
This wasn’t just about business anymore. It was about doing what those others hadn’t—earning trust.
She closed the file and stretched, her eyes drifting toward the window of her soft-lit office.
Her company had grown faster than she imagined.
Now, more than twenty people worked here—some part-time, some full. Orders were flowing. Vendors were reaching out. Collaborations were piling on her desk.
She now handled everything from fabric sourcing, production, design, payroll, to contracts and delivery logistics. Her days were full.
And yet, somehow, her heart stayed light.
Looking out her gaze fell on the empty land behind her office.
"Maybe I should just buy that land..." she whispered.
A bigger headquarters. With a proper workshop floor. A rooftop garden. A full research room for testing materials. A place for her people to breathe.
She imagined a tall building rising in that space. Clean, bright, full of life.
And so Ruby picked up her pen and wrote one more thing at the bottom of her notebook planner page:
– Visit fabric village
– Offer fair contract
– Draft land proposal
She smiled to herself.
A knock sounded gently at the office door.
"Come in," Ruby said, her hand still resting on the half-drawn sketch before her.
The door creaked open and one of the stitching assistants—a young male ghost from Team 1—stepped inside. He had neatly combed hair, faint purple-tinted robes, and nervous energy clinging to him like a second skin.
"Miss Ruby," he said, voice respectful, "the robe design you gave yesterday—Team 1 and Team 2 worked together and finished stitching the prototype. Would you like to take a look?"
Ruby blinked in surprise. "Already? That was quick."
He smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Everyone was excited about the layering you added in the sleeves and the adjustable waistline... We thought it’d be fun to try."
Ruby stood up, collecting her notebook. "Alright. Let’s go."
They walked through the hallway and stepped into the large shared workroom, where Team 1 and Team 2 usually worked side by side.
Several sewing machines, which she had bought after earning huge profits to speed up their work, were pushed aside. In the middle of the room, three mannequins stood there, each dressed in a robe of soft sunset shades—blush beige, ocean grey, and dusk blue.
Ghosts from both teams stood around the room, eyes hopeful as Ruby approached.
The male assistant gestured. "We made slight changes to the collar flow and stitched inner mesh for lightness—just like you suggested."
Ruby stepped closer and gently touched the sleeve, feeling the texture, the finish, and the stitching at the hem.
"The pleats at the back... they fall nicely," she murmured.
She turned to the side, then tugged the belt to test its hold. "It drapes well. Movement is smooth. Good choice of lining."
A few smiles broke out across the room.
"But," she added calmly, "the side slit on this one—" she pointed at the beige robe, "—it’s a little too open. Pull it in by two fingers’ width. And add one more button at the collar for people who want more coverage."
Team 2’s leader nodded and began scribbling notes.
"And let’s try a sample in deeper tones too—midnight green or grey. These feel great for indoors, but we’ll need something bold if we offer these for evening wear," Ruby added, stepping back.