Morning comes quick. More because I spent the majority of the night talking to dead people and battled the sinkhole in my stomach. Or is that hunger?

 

I'd sent the ghosts away quite a while ago but I can sense their presence even without the use of [Sense Death]. But their lingering doesn't disturb me as much as the thought of every single thing that could go wrong today.

 

They could find me out, discover that I am an outsider to this world or this continent. Persecute me for it. The Ghosts I rounded up could chicken out at the last minute for whatever reason. I don't know what but something will go wrong.

 

Ever since I woke up in this world my luck is shit, not that it was any better before but still. Unable to sleep I spent the night staring at the sky. Not admiring the stars or anything wistful, no, I spent that time throwing various wrenches in my plan and picking it all apart.

 

And so far, I've succeeded in throwing it all to shit and it makes sense too. The most simple and prevalent wrench to any business is not having paying customers.

 

And my target audience for this is limited and generally regarded as piss poor. Worse is I've only got eleven families to target, what are the chances these eleven have fifty copper tokus lying around?

 

It brings me to a depressing conclusion. There may be a need to reduce the price. Cut my bottom line to accommodate for the lack of a large pool of customers.

 

"So long as I don't starve," I mutter to myself. At this point, anything is better than rats.

 

I let my mind rest a bit but I don't have to force sleep any longer because the sun peeks over the horizon, its rays piercing through my shut eyelids and pulling me up from the attempt.

 

Only a few people crawl out of their homes and set up their wares, yawning greetings and waving at their neighbours.

 

I'd slept out tonight despite the invite from Elsa. Although I'd taken a bedroll, I couldn't bring myself to enter their home, not after yesterday's failure. So, I slept out, embarrassed, but driven to make things work this new day.

 

And the first step to that is knocking on a door.

 

I bang three times on the door and call out a cheerful greeting bound to stir anyone up from their slumber. The plan was to wait until noon before this, but I'm far too hungry and pissed to wait any longer for my bread.

 

I give the door three more bangs and whistle as someone stumbles and curses on the other side. The wait isn't long before the door swings open and a sneering man greets me.

 

The man before me wears a thin brown trouser tied at his waist with a string of white cloth. His face grizzled with a full beard and flowing hair, his build buffer than mine. No doubt having done his fair share of ploughing at the fields or even serving in the military.

 

This man is my sure-fire.

 

There are doubts about the other families, concerns on whether they'd have the funds for my service. A six-minute span with the spirit of a dead relative. But this man is the exception. The one in eleven jackpot. I have no doubt of his wealth, after all, Garland Ioina is the grandson of the founding Mayor of Ioina Village.

 

He might as well be a Prince.

 

"Who are you and what do you want?"

 

His voice matches his size and demeanour. Annoyance radiates from the words and I get the feeling if I don't cut to the chase, he might pick a fight to wake himself up.

 

I give a sheepish grin and raise my hand up in a pre-emptive defence, "What I want is simple but what matters is what you want."

 

"You…You're a beggar, aren't you?" he scoffs, the anger and annoyance in his eyes fading into pity, "I suppose a few coppers will satisfy you for now." He starts to walk back in but stops the moment I utter these words.

 

"Have you ever wondered what it would be like to meet the founder of this beautiful village?"

 

He turns setting a glare at me. My sheepish grin widens and I set my hands behind my back. "I am so much more than a beggar, young prince."

 

"Who are you then?"

 

He is wide awake now. His grandfather's intel is good, "I am someone who can grant a wish. A wish of the dead and the wish of the living."

 

He raises an eyebrow at me, "Should we take this inside?"

 

"No, if you are curious, if you are ready to make your wish come by the far side of the village, by the river you will find me." I turn away from him answering none of his calls.

 

He is different. Unlike the others that I planned to tell them straight up what they were in for. He has power and wealth and those two things are the necessary ingredient for the comfortable life I pursue.

 

I have faith that I baited him sufficiently enough, in fact, I can guarantee he will come by, searching for me to grant his wish. And I will. With great fanfare and little commission…for now.

 

***

 

It's noon the time I'm done alerting all families of the chance to see their deceased loved ones again. Conversations ran long despite my intent to be as cryptic as hell.

 

Their reactions are…strange. For the most part, half of them give the expected surprised remarks and ask the same old questions. 'How is this possible?' 'Who are you and what do you know of my family treasure!' but the other half…Well, as long as they end up paying it doesn't matter.

 

I head out to my Diviner stop; the makeshift tent that covers well enough to block the sun out but not the bugs. Already, it seems there are people searching and there is way more than eleven people.

 

My approach is noted and a path made, there are mutterings and murmurings of things that threatened to split my face into a grin. I'd barely done any advertising and already there's a crowd forming.

 

Although I do hear some bad things. Bad like testimonies from my would-be customers of yesterday, it would seem that they were the seeds of doubt within my field of rice.

 

I ignore it and make my way into the tent. With a single performance, all doubts would be clear and they would see that the problem isn't me.

 

It's them. Yes, why didn't I think of this sooner? I could blame my inability to bring back their ghosts on their 'sins' like every religious organisation ever. If you aren't doing well and things aren't going your way, you must be sinning or not believing hard enough. There is no other explanation.

 

"Is there something amusing you?"

 

The question lets me realize a grin has split open my face. I blink, frowning as no one should be in the tent with me.

 

But before me is my honey pot. The veritable prince of the village. I let out a snort but compose myself. "Ah, Young prince. Securing first in line, are you?"

 

He ignores the amusement in my voice and jumps to the point, "I have come for my wish."

 

I set myself at the table and cross my fingers. Sitting still and whispering the lord's prayer in English. Garland shifts uncomfortably and I can tell he wants to interrupt, but he stays silent, watching me.

 

Finally, I say in this world's language, "This wish is not free nor will it last forever. Do you still wish for it, despite its fleeting nature?"

 

I could be a crook and ask straight up for as many silvers as he has, but I'm trying to build a powerbase. Wealth without power is like an imbalanced diet and I'm all about being healthy.

 

"Yes! I do!" He slams his hands on the table, leaning forward. "I'll pay anything! Let me see my Grandfather."

 

"Very well, Garland." I stand and lead him out of the tent. "This will be the second time I have performed this miracle for someone, best to let the people's faith in my abilities swell, no?"

 

We step out and the crowd appears to have doubled in size, gathered around, asking questions about why someone like Garland was with a likely charlatan such as myself.

 

I ignore them and clap three times to silence them like an annoyed kindergarten teacher. "The Young Prince, Garland Ioina of the Ioina Village seeks to see his grandfather once more. Garland the first of Ioina. His wish shall be granted before your eyes and you all shall bear witness to the power I wield."

 

There are even more murmurs but they quiet down on their own, as if they were shutting themselves up.

 

I raise my hands to the sky and activate Sense Death. Above me, I find Anselm and the other eleven ghosts I intend to bring back to the physical world.

 

"Summon Spirit of Garland the first!" With some exaggerated movements and shaking, I fire out a bolt of green mana into the sky where my target waits. It strikes and fills him until he begins to descend.

 

There are loud gasps everywhere, the adults and elderly no doubt recognize the man as they all exclaim his name in praise and kowtow. Others shout about a great mage and I smirk.

 

I look to the two Garlands reunited, embracing each other and proclaim. "Behold! Garland the first treads the land once more." I snap my fingers and he disappears in a mist of green, eliciting another round of gasps, "But only at my whim."