Cozy Isekai Craftsman, ch 15

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As the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into a full month, Joe couldn't help but marvel at the familiarity of the passing time. The months on this planet seemed to follow the same pattern as those on Earth, and for that, he was grateful. The last thing he wanted was to learn a whole new system of numbers and dates.

As he went about his daily routine, Joe's thoughts often wandered to other lands and cultures. He wondered if they too followed a similar pattern of time, or if they had their own unique way of marking the passing of days. The idea of exploring new places thrilled him, but not in the way one might think. Joe wasn't looking for adventure or danger, just a chance to see what lay beyond the borders of his current world.

Thomas had mentioned the existence of air travel, but it wasn't quite what Joe was used to. Instead of planes or helicopters, people here tamed wild beasts to fly. It sounded exciting, but also incredibly dangerous. As for teleportation, that was an option, but only for those with a vast amount of resources and powerful magical abilities. It seemed Joe's dreams of exploring new lands would have to wait for now.

With a satisfied sigh, Joe leaned back and surveyed his handiwork. The house was finally clean, and everything was back in its rightful place. But there was still one thing left to do: replace the front door. Fortunately, the town provided wood for such occasions, and Joe was determined to do the job himself.

He may not have been a master carpenter, but Joe had a knack for working with his hands. With focused determination, he measured and sawed, pausing occasionally to consult with Lucas. The sheriff may have been known for his law enforcement skills, but it turned out he had a talent for carpentry as well. With his guidance, Joe was able to learn a few new tricks and techniques that he hadn't known before.

Currently, the new door was finally in place, and Joe stood back to admire his handiwork. The wood gleamed in the sunlight, and the door knob turned smoothly in his hand. It was a small accomplishment, but it filled Joe with a sense of pride and satisfaction.

Over the past month, Joe and Lucas swapped stories about their pasts, their words punctuated by the sound of hammers hitting nails and saws cutting through wood.

Lucas was a patient teacher, offering gentle suggestions and allowing Joe to make mistakes and learn from them. But while he may have been patient, he was also particular about how things should be done. Joe couldn't help but smile to himself when Lucas made fun of him for missing a nail or tripping over a piece of wood. It was clear that the sheriff took pride in his carpentry skills and wasn't afraid to poke a little fun at Joe's mistakes.

Thomas had helped with his memory of how the front of the house should look. Despite their different approaches, Joe found himself bonding with Thomas over the shared goal of repairing the door and front wall. As they worked, they fell into an easy camaraderie, swapping stories and sharing laughs. Joe couldn't help but feel grateful for this unexpected friendship, forged through the simple act of working together towards a common goal.

When they had finished the renovation, Thomas got emotional. He was impressed that Joe had reset the door, or at least the new door, on its hinges. He slapped his hands together a couple of times and said, "There it's perfect! I can't wait to show Lucas."

Thomas said, "You did a fine job, boy. I didn't think you had it in you. Go left."

Joe replied, "Thanks for believing in me."

Thomas said, "Now that this is finished, didn't you have a business you wanted to start? Now's the perfect time since you don't have to fix up the mansion anymore."

Joe replied, "Well, I had that cleaning job."

Thomas grunted. "You can't do your cleaning thing forever. It doesn't make that much money, and if you decide to marry a beautiful woman, maybe one of my granddaughters, then you'll need to provide for them and a future family."

Joe felt awkward about Thomas talking about granddaughters like that. "You're right. I do need to get some more money. It's not like I'm trying to become rich or anything, like you were once, but I know that money doesn't buy happiness, but it does remove stress."

Thomas agreed. "It's wise to think that way."

Joe said, "Well, because of the cleaning, my powers now are able to recognize not just entire rooms but entire buildings, especially if I've cleaned that room or building multiple times. I've pretty much gotten acquainted with nearly every house in the city."

As the sun rose on a crisp autumn morning, Joe surveyed the massive mansion that loomed over him. He had spent the past month pouring his heart and soul into the restoration of the grand estate, his sleeves rolled up as he scrubbed and polished every nook and cranny until it shone like a beacon.

His reputation had spread like wildfire throughout the city, thanks to the shrewd machinations of Caroline. She had whispered to anyone who would listen that Joe possessed an otherworldly ability to transform even the most decrepit homes into sparkling showpieces - for a price, of course.

At first, no one had believed Caroline's outlandish tales. But as word began to spread, a curious few began to seek out Joe, eager to see if he truly possessed the magic touch. And sure enough, with a flick of his wrist and a whirl of his mop, Joe worked wonders on even the most stubborn stains and dirt.

For a time, Joe's business thrived. But as the weeks wore on, the phone calls dwindled and the requests for his services became few and far between. There was only so much Joe could do, after all, and once the houses were spotless, there wasn't much need for his particular brand of magic. It would take time for the grime and grit to accumulate once more, and for the whispers about Joe's talents to start anew. But for now, Joe was content to bask in the warmth of the summer sun, a job well done under his belt and a sense of satisfaction in his heart.

Thomas was right. He needed to figure out a way to get some steady income. However, they came down to the same issue as before.

Thomas seemed to be reading his mind. "You're worried about ruining someone else's business again, right Joe?"

Joe nodded. Even though the man couldn't see him since he was tied to the locket, and the locket was below him. "I approached some of the local guilds, and I'm still waiting on them."

Thomas snorted. "These modern guilds, they're so finicky about everything. I can't believe they swore you to secrecy and not reveal your power to businesses outside the town."

Joe sat on one of the steps of the staircase, relaxing. "Think about it from their perspective. They just want to cover their tracks and make sure they're making the right decision on how best to use me effectively. Of course, I can always turn them down," Joe replied.

Thomas frowned again, seeming unhappy with the whole ordeal. "Back in my day, us merchants took control of our own destiny rather than waiting for others to do things on our behalf," he said.

Joe rolled his eyes and was thankful that the man couldn't see him. "That would be true if there was a town when you got here, but according to you, you started this town with some others," Joe retorted.

"You're darn right I did," Thomas replied.

Joe countered. "Now that there are people here, I have to think of a way to integrate, rather than just dominate. Also, most of my costs are taken care of. I have a place to live, get a free meal every day from the Rusty Nail, and I have enough money in our account that I can buy things for myself and cook here too."

"But you want to be your own man," Thomas gleaned.

Joe said. "Yes, sir, I do. It's nice to rely on other people. I used to hate it, but I feel a sense of community. Going over to the Rusty Nail every night, catching up with everybody, meeting new people. It's a nice routine."

Joe leaned back against the rough wooden wall of his cabin and let out a long, contented sigh. He had come a long way from the last few lonely years of his life back on Earth. In this new world, he had found a group of people who had quickly become like family to him.

Each night, they gathered around a crackling campfire and shared stories, jokes, and a sense of camaraderie that Joe had never experienced before. It was a far cry from the isolated existence he had grown used to back home, where the only company he had was himself.

But if Joe wanted to stay here, to truly make a home in this strange, beautiful world, he knew he needed money. That was the key to survival, to making a life for himself among these kindred spirits.

Thomas broke the silence and said very confidently, "I think you already have a business idea, don't you?"

Joe eyed him and said, "How'd you know about that?"

homas chuckled. "You're easy to read again. You're not good at lying."

Joe replied, "You're right, I do have an idea, but I won't reveal it to you yet. I'd rather get the thing done and then show it."

Thomas asked, "Do you have a hint for an old man like me?"

Joe said, "Okay, sure. It's something that people severely lack, but want."

Thomas hummed to himself a little bit. "That's it, soil. You're giving me to go off of."

Joe said, "You're smart. You might be the smartest person I've ever met. You'll figure it out. Besides, I need to get up."

He stood up and walked to the back of the garden to the back part of the house and opened the door to the outside. He made a mental note to himself to ask Emily to create a screen door. He would probably have to explain what that was and see if it was mechanically possible to design and make something like that. With her abilities, maybe with his and hers combined, they could.

Thomas said, "Well, the house is clean. Now we have to address this garden."

Joe replied, "Right you are," and walked over to the scythe that leaned against the back wall. Next to it was a bucket full of very sharp steak knives.

Joe bent down and scooped up the whetstone, its rough texture and weight filling his hand with familiarity. He brought it inside, the door creaking as he pushed it open with his hip, and set it on one of the shelves near the back door. The shelf was filled with odds and ends, from loose screws to half-empty paint cans, but the whetstone held a special place in Joe's heart.

Turning back to the bucket of sharp knives and the scythe, Joe felt a thrill of excitement race through him. He could feel the power coursing through his veins, knowing that with just a flick of his wrist, he could cut through anything. He touched the bucket of knives, and a holographic screen appeared before his eyes. The words "Bucket of Knives" blazed across it in bold letters, and several properties appeared in glowing text. Sharpness, sharpness, and more sharpness. Joe grinned, feeling like a mad scientist as he began his experiment.

With the scythe in one hand and the bucket of dull knives in the other, Joe focused all of his attention on the transfer. He could feel the knives growing duller and duller with each passing second, their once-sharp edges blunting under his expert touch. Finally, with a burst of energy, he transferred all of the sharpness from the dull knives into the scythe. The sensation was like nothing he'd ever experienced before, a rush of power and strength that filled his very being.

In an instant, all of the knives dulled again to the point where they were basically useless, except for cutting butter. Joe chuckled to himself, admiring his newly-sharpened scythe.

"I can't believe you used that whetstone to sharpen a few knives every single day just to get most likely the sharpest scythe in this entire world," Thomas said.

Joe chuckled. "Hey, it'll be worth it, though."

A new screen appeared above the bucket of knives, and there was a new property that showed up that wasn't there before. One of the question marks had vanished, replaced by the new property. "Oh, I got a new property," Joe said.

"I wish I could see what you see, but it's fine if you just explain it," Thomas said.

Joe replied, "The screen tells me the new property that I've gained access to is resistance to dullness."

Thomas laughed. "So if you transfer that power to the scythe, maybe it'll repel your dullness."

It took Joe a couple of seconds to realize what Thomas was saying.

"Hey, what the heck man? I thought we were friends," Joe said, pretending to be offended.

Thomas said, "For a young, strapping man like you with a powerful ability, you should be going out there to see what woman is worthy of you. But instead, you spend your days cleaning like some doll made for it."

"Okay, okay, fine, whatever. I'll tell you when," Joe said. He picked up the scythe and placed it on the ground, using the technique that Thomas had instructed him. He waved it back and forth, and Thomas corrected his posture.

"Straighten your back a little bit and don't put so much weight in your hands. It should be an easy rhythm back and forth. Yes, just like that. This should not feel difficult. Let the weight of the scythe work for you," Thomas instructed.

When Joe was about halfway through, Thomas said, "I can't believe you're so physically weak."

Joe countered, "I like that this is hard work. It makes me appreciate this place more, and it gives me untroubled sleep."

Thomas usually had a snarky reply, but he went silent at that. He seemed to appreciate Joe's perspective on hard work as well. It was afternoon by the time Joe cleared off the rest of the incredibly tall grass.

He wiped the sweat from his brow and transferred all the sweat and grime from his clothes into a pebble, then threw it in the grass. "Whew. It looks great, right?"

Thomas said, "Yes, it does. Ava and Emily used to run through here all the time. Their parents would chase them pretending to be monsters. Well, sometimes Emily would stand up and pretend to be the hero to protect her sister."

Joe leaned in closer, his curiosity piqued. He wanted to know more about Ava's parents, but he could sense the pain and sadness lurking just beneath the surface. So instead, he respectfully kept silent, letting Thomas talk at his own pace. They walked in silence for a while, the only sound was the crunch of leaves underfoot.

Finally, they reached what was once a garden, now overgrown with weeds and wildflowers. It was nestled at the very back near a couple of trees, the sunlight filtering through the leaves in dappled patterns. Thomas began to point out different plants, their names rolling off his tongue with ease. Joe listened intently, absorbing every word like a sponge.

As they walked through the garden, Thomas occasionally paused to educate Joe about the plants. He told him what they did, their uses, and the secrets they held. Joe drank it all in, feeling like he was unlocking a hidden treasure trove of knowledge. With each plant he learned about, he was able to access more properties, including their names. It was like a puzzle, each piece slotting perfectly into place.

Joe couldn't help but feel grateful for Thomas's patience and willingness to share his knowledge. It was a rare thing to find someone so generous with their time and expertise.

At first, it was awkward having someone follow him all the time and listen to all of his conversations, but Joe had grown accustomed to having company. Thomas wasn't awake all the time. Like everybody else, he tended to sleep.

Joe said he wanted to make an herb garden.

"Is that right?" Thomas asked.

Joe said. "Yeah, I need to buy some more herbs but I need to clean the rest of this out."

Joe set his sharp eyes on the unwanted plants, determined to free his beloved garden bed from their grasp. With deft movements, he sliced through the stems and leaves, his blade glinting in the sunlight. As he worked, he couldn't help but marvel at the precision of his tool. It was like an extension of his own body, allowing him to sculpt the garden bed to his liking.

But as he worked, a nagging worry crept into his mind. What if someone else stumbled upon his blade and accidentally hurt themselves? Joe made a mental note to find a sheath for the razor-sharp weapon.

With the job done, Joe knelt down and ran his fingers through the rich soil. Suddenly, a blue translucent screen materialized before him, listing the soil's properties in glowing text.

"Nutrition for flowers +12," he read, nodding in satisfaction. "Acidity plus six, weed resistance plus four..." The list went on, each property more impressive than the last.

But one caught Joe's eye, and he furrowed his brow in confusion. "CO2 collection plus five?" he muttered. That was unexpected. And right below it, "Pest Resistance." Joe couldn't help but smile. With soil like this, his garden was sure to thrive.

Joe said, "Hmm, carbon dioxide."

"Well?" Thomas asked. "What did you say? Was that some sort of insult from one of your native languages?"

Joe laughed. "No, it's a scientific term from my original planet. I'll explain it to you when you're older."

Thomas snorted. "Alright then. Keep your secrets, wizard."

Joe picked up some of the soil with a pinch of his fingers and kept his other hand on the main soil. He transferred all the good properties that he wanted back into that soil. He repeated the process multiple times until he couldn't retransfer the properties anymore. He enhanced it to the point where the soil, which was once a light gray-brown, was now a healthy, deep, dark brown and smelled amazing.

Thomas complained, "Your ability is broken. I've seen many abilities in my time, and yours is broken. There should be no possible way for anyone to enhance something using itself."

Joe chuckled and said, "I'd have to disagree with you. I'm very happy with my power."

Thomas complained again, "Of course, you would, you cheater."

Joe let out a hearty laugh, the sound echoing through the quiet garden. But as he stood up, a faint chime caught his attention. It was coming from the house.

Curious, Joe made his way to the back wall of the garden, where he leaned his tools against the sun-warmed brick. With a sense of anticipation, he stepped inside the new front door.

The bell rang again, its tinkling melody filling the air. "I'm coming!" Joe called out, his voice bouncing off the walls of the empty room. But as he walked, he couldn't help but notice the trail of dirt he was leaving behind. Frowning, he reached out and pressed his hand against the wall, channeling the dirt from the room into a small pebble in his palm.

He repeated the process with his boots, transferring the grime to another stone, which he promptly shoved into his "dirty" pocket. With a satisfied nod, Joe continued down the hallway.

The bell had been a recent addition to the mansion, a gift from Emily to celebrate the completion of the extensive renovations. It was a thing of beauty, crafted from gleaming brass and connected to a manual pulley system that made it ring out with a melodic chime.

But Joe, ever the tinkerer, had taken things a step further. With some clever experimentation, he had rigged up a button next to the front door that would activate the bell at the push of a finger. He had single-handedly created a doorbell for the house.

As if on cue, the bell rang again, its tones filling the empty hallway. "I'm coming! I'm coming!" Joe called out, a smile spreading across his face as he made his way to the door.

And there, waiting on the doorstep, was Sheriff Lucas. He kept pressing the doorbell over and over again while the bell rang.

Joe said, "Stop, stop. What are you doing?"

Lucas had a big grin on his face, and his thumb tapped the hilt of the saber. "Sorry, I just like your little contraption. It's very ingenious."

Joseph said, "Thanks, but don't keep doing that. I'm gonna go crazy."

He was reminded of the time when he first met Lucas and how the ghost spirit had played that incessant piano louder than any instrument he had ever heard in his life. He shivered at the memory.

Lucas asked, "May I come in?"

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry," Joe apologized, "I don't have any refreshments for you or anything like that."

Lucas waved him off, "Don't worry about it. I know the situation you're in. Besides, I'm here for business."

Joe asked, "I already cleaned your house though, and the Sheriff's office."

Lucas said, "No, it's not that. I'm coming because there is a haunted spirit, and I need you to track it down."

Joe said, "Oh, that."