CHAPTER 293: A GROWING REPUTATION

"Just how did you...?"

The alchemist stared at the restored Stabilized Timepiece in his hands, eyes wide with disbelief as he blurted out a question.

"..."

Wang Yu said nothing. He gave the startled alchemist a calm, almost lazy, look.

"Apologies. That was out of line. I shouldn't have pried."

The alchemist quickly caught himself. Inquiring into the unique techniques of another scholar or alchemist was widely regarded as an impolite—if not outright offensive—breach of etiquette.

"May I ask what the repair cost is?"

The alchemist quickly changed the topic to something more appropriate.

"It's on the board. For a minor issue like that, 100."

Wang Yu pointed to a wall-mounted price list to his back. The alchemist hadn't noticed it when he entered—the sight of a new face had drawn all his attention. He now turned to read it.

"Basic mechanical distortion repair, 100. Magical circuit repair, 300. Other issues, negotiable depending on complexity. If additional materials are required, prices will be quoted in advance. Low-tier material processing..."

The alchemist read the listings aloud. With each line, his expression grew more surprised. The services provided were shockingly cheap.

Not outrageously so—Wang Yu wasn't giving his services away—but compared to standard rates in Skyborne City, where such skilled technicians were in high demand and short supply, Wang Yu's fees were surprisingly modest.

A Stabilized Timepiece, especially one that was non-functional, was notorious for being difficult to repair. Few specialists would even take the job, and if they did, the cost would surely be at least 500. And yet Wang Yu had fixed it flawlessly for a fifth of the price.

"Wait a second—how did you know the issue was purely mechanical?"

The alchemist suddenly looked up, alarm dawning in his voice. But again, all he got in return was Wang Yu's impassive face.

"Ah, sorry again. I really have no self-control."

The man nearly slapped himself. Why was it so hard to hold back his curiosity?

Wang Yu didn't take offense. In Skyborne City, alchemists and scholars were frequently overtaken by their obsession with the unknown. Most couldn't help themselves. Curiosity was in their blood. If anything, the ones who couldn't control their hands posed the real danger.

It was often said that an alchemist dies a youth at heart. As apprentices, they were eager to touch and ask about everything. In their prime, with some skill and reputation under their belt, they learned restraint. But as their hair turned silver and their knowledge deepened, their curiosity took over. They began to poke and prod at all the world's mysteries once again.

"Here. I'm interested in your material processing service. I do have some raw materials that need to be refined."

He transferred 100 credits via his identity card, then pulled out a transparent container filled with pale blue stones floating in a bubbly, colorless liquid.

"What do you need? I'll let you know right away if it's something I can't do. And how should I address you?"

Wang Yu had seen the alchemist around while Sieg was selling his dragon scales yesterday, and he was the first one to show up today. It looked like there'd be plenty of opportunities to work with him in the future.

"Call me Isaac. Can you process these Froststones? I need semi-stable frost crystals extracted."

Isaac retrieved a transparent vessel filled with bubbly, colorless liquid. Several azure stones were floating within. The blue gems were mid-grade ice-element alchemical ore, prized for their impressive elemental affinity when properly refined.

"Processing these, huh? Easy. Give me three minutes."

Wang Yu arched a brow. These were beginner-level requests to him. Taking the container, he stepped into the back of the shop.

Not even two minutes later, he returned. The stones had been transformed, reduced to radiant, snowflake-like frost crystals that shimmering faintly under the light.

"You..."

Isaac was just about to ask Wang Yu about his tricks again, but this time, he caught himself in time and clamped a hand over his mouth.

Twice had been enough. He wasn't about to ask a third time.

"Three units processed. That'll be 300."

Wang Yu passed the crystals back, his voice as cool and steady as ever.

"No problem at all. Honestly, your prices are a bargain. If I had more funding, I'd be handing you every spare material I own."

Isaac paid up quickly, albeit with a slightly pained expression. The value Wang Yu provided was undeniable—but his dwindling funds still stung.

"I'm not able to process everything or repair every item yet. But if you're happy with the service, feel free to spread the word."

Wang Yu gave a faint smile, entirely at ease.

One of the blessings of Skyborne City was the lack of price wars or cutthroat competition. No one would bother you just for charging low prices. There was a simple saying here: If you're outclassed, improve yourself.

"Alright."

Isaac nodded and turned to leave. He was already thinking of which colleagues to tell first. Finding a shop like this was a rare stroke of luck.

"Now then... let's take a look."

After Isaac left, Wang Yu reached into the void above his head and pulled forth the Endless Pages, that wondrous artifact of infinite durability. He opened it, and without delay, began to draw.

His hand, empowered by the physique of a grand knight, became a blur. The pen swept across the page like a high-speed printer. Bit by bit, a full blueprint took shape as the alchemical construct was broken down with meticulous precision.

The Endless Pages' unique characteristic allowed it to endure even his frenzied scribbling without any wear. And with the mental clarity and heightened spatial senses granted by his powerful physique, Wang Yu had no trouble recalling the layout of the item from memory alone.

Within five minutes, he had fully reproduced the schematics of the Stabilized Timepiece that Isaac had brought in. Each part's dimensions and characteristics were clearly annotated.

It was all part of his plan. This store wasn't just about earning money. It was also a way for him to collect and learn about alchemical constructs—fodder for study and refinement for himself, Avia, and Sieg.

Wang Yu understood his own strengths clearly: five parts cheating, three parts luck, and two parts effort. Without the unique advantages brought by his transmigration, no amount of hard work would have gotten him this far this fast.

So he never shied away from leveraging those advantages. The Chariot, his unique power that could restructure matter,wasn't limited to combat.

If anything, its true potential was in alchemy. Just like a Grade-8 machinist from Earth would be godlike in a medieval workshop, Wang Yu's ability was ridiculously overpowered in this setting.

The Chariot's detection ability was utterly unfair. Alchemical constructs lacking life could not hope to resist his scans or conceal their secrets from him.

He could detect a problem with any of their parts with a single glimpse.

And as for repairs, with the power to manipulate matter at will, he could restructure a device's internal components without even opening it up.

Though Earth didn't have such abilities, in this world, wizards were more than capable of manipulating objects despite the presence of physical barriers. The true challenge was not access, but rather interference.

Both wizardry and magic generated energetic fluctuations, and most alchemical constructs contained magical circuits highly susceptible to interference. For something as delicate as a Stabilized Timepiece, even a slight disruption of its internal balance would render it utterly useless.

But the Chariot suffered none of these problems.

It didn't generate waves, and neither did it emit energy. It acted directly on the material itself—pure restructuring of form without interference. It was absurdly convenient.

If a knight's potential allowed them to pierce through matter and manipulate internal structure, perhaps that knight could reproduce Wang Yu's ability. But the truth was, knights who couldn't wield magic and yet dabbled in alchemy or herbalism were exceedingly rare. Even Wang Yu, in practice, was little more than a half-baked alchemist.

"Hm... these gears really do resemble the ones used in Earth's timepieces. The precision must be excellent. With magical stabilization, the margin of error would be negligible..."

As he examined the deconstructed schematic of the Stabilized Timepiece he had just drawn, Wang Yu marveled at the intricate structure. Pure mechanical designs, no matter how complex, were something he could easily understand.

With a flick, he tossed the notebook skyward and allowed it to virtualize. Someone had just entered the shop—he could sense it. It was Isaac, returning with several of the alchemists who had bought dragon scales the previous day.

"Good day, shopkeeper. Could you repair this ring?"

One of the newcomers stepped forward and placed a ring upon the counter.

"Let me have a look."

As ever, Wang Yu gave the same answer: he'd need to see it to know.

He picked up the ring—a band of fine adamantium set with a high-grade fire-elemental gem—and activated the Chariot to inspect its inner workings. Almost immediately, he concluded that he couldn't.

The gem's internal structure had fractured, and the magical circuit within—originally forged with the gem's elemental affinity in mind—had completely collapsed. The damage was severe.

He picked up a test stylus from the table and channeled a trickle of mana through it. A quick diagnostic showed that nearly 20% of the magical circuit had exploded—catastrophic damage.

"This is a ring that casts Lava Engraving, isn't it?"

Wang Yu referenced his mental catalogue of spell matrices.

"It is. Can it be repaired?"

The man nodded, a bit surprised that Wang Yu could identify the spell embedded in the ring with just a glance.

"Just a moment..."

Wang Yu didn't answer directly. This type of failure—the total destruction of a magical circuit—was far beyond his current skills. He was still a novice, after all. But what he couldn't fix, others might be able to.

He tapped the Perfect Fractal lens affixed to his forehead, transmitting the internal scan of the ring to the two others also linked to the lens.

In the workshop behind the store, Avia and Sieg, who had been busy experimenting with spell-engraving arrays, paused their work and turned their focus to the incoming schematic.

"The circuits here... they've definitely melted, right? But look at this formation—it's very innovative. We should study this later. It's a great reference for constructing fire-element magical circuits, and it looks far more stable than typical configurations."

Avia and Sieg began discussing the schematics Wang Yu had transmitted, their interest clearly piqued.

"Indeed. Fascinating design. But the repair's pretty straightforward, too. These few circuits just need reconnecting. Look—this line and this one. Once they're joined up, the whole structure will stabilize again."

Sieg nodded, sketching the corrections in the air with his fingers.

"No issues, then. I'll pass the fix back to Wang Yu."

Having reached a consensus, Avia adjusted her lens and transmitted the repair plan visually back to Wang Yu.

"All set."

The image projected through the Perfect Fractal lens clearly illustrated the required modifications. Wang Yu followed it precisely, channeling the Chariot's power to alter the damaged gemstone. The internal structure shifted, the broken circuit was reformed, and the ring was restored.

"Wait—what did you just...?!"

The alchemist blinked in disbelief as Wang Yu pressed the ring between his hands and handed it back less than a minute later. It looked untouched. Had he really done anything?

Yet the moment he infused it with mana, a miniature red-hot, high-speed drill materialized at his fingertips. Lava Engraving had activated flawlessly.

He gaped in astonishment, his mouth opening to inquire how Wang Yu had done such a feat—only for Isaac to clap a hand over his friend's mouth. There was no need to let someone else blurt out something foolish.

Soon, the other alchemists began presenting Wang Yu with their broken items. Wang Yu either repaired them immediately—sometimes with just a glance—or paused momentarily, awaiting aid from Avia and Sieg before using the Perfect Fractal lens to carry out the fix himself.

It was quick, reliable, and affordable. The crowd of alchemists stared, stunned. They had never seen someone stand behind a counter, fix items without even using tools, and hand them back in perfect condition.

But results spoke louder than words. The goods were fixed at prices more than fair—so who cared how it was done?

Given one successful repair after another, word began to spread. More and more customers entered the shop. Wang Yu continued his work with ease.

Even so, there were items that Avia and Sieg couldn't fix immediately. When that happened, Wang Yu was forthright: either he told them the item couldn't be repaired, or he asked them to return the next day.

Most items, however, were within their combined reach. And every time Wang Yu examined an object, he recorded its structure in detail.

Those records became food for growth—fuel for research. With each passing job, Wang Yu, Avia, and Sieg sharpened their skills, their knowledge expanding at breakneck pace.

And the name of the Grade-8 Tinker's Workshop began to spread among the local alchemist circles like wildfire.