The Tinkerer’s Odyssey

The night air was cool as Sylvie sat cross-legged on the wooden floor of her small room, illuminated only by the flickering glow of a lantern. The encounter on the road earlier still lingered in her mind—the cold fear, the rush of adrenaline, the realization that danger was a constant presence in this world.

She couldn't let that happen again.

She wouldn't let that happen again.

Her fingers absentmindedly toyed with one of Sylas's wooden creations, but her mind was racing with ideas. Swords and knives weren't an option—she lacked the strength and training to use them effectively. Traps were impractical. But there was something else, something far more fitting for her.

A way to disable an enemy long enough to escape.

Her old world had tools for self-defense, things that didn't rely on brute force. And one, in particular, came to mind—pepper spray.

Sylvie sat up straighter, the idea taking root and growing rapidly. She could make something like that. It didn't have to be perfect, just enough to blind and incapacitate an attacker. But how would she do it?

She closed her eyes and focused inward, calling upon the ability that had already saved her once.

[Tinkerer's Blessing] Activated.

The world seemed to shift. Her mind sharpened, her thoughts organizing themselves with an unnatural clarity. She didn't gain new knowledge, but her understanding of materials, mechanics, and how things worked deepened. It was as if she could instinctively see how objects could be used in ways others wouldn't think of.

Step one: The container.

Her gaze flicked across the room, searching for something that could hold the liquid. She needed something sturdy, small, and sealable.

Her eyes landed on a small wooden tube used to store dried herbs. It was lightweight, had a tight-fitting lid, and could hold liquid. Perfect.

Step two: The delivery system.

Just pouring the liquid wouldn't be enough. She needed a way to spray it in a fine mist. Sylvie frowned, running through possibilities.

Then, her eyes landed on a dried-out gourd among her mother's foraging supplies. Yes. If she hollowed it out and created a small slit in its neck, she could turn it into a primitive squeeze pump. By pressing down, air would be forced through the slit, expelling the liquid inside as a mist.

Her fingers twitched in anticipation as she grabbed her small carving knife and got to work.

As she shaved away the inside of the gourd, carved the nozzle, and carefully refined its shape, she felt something shift inside her.

A strange warmth pulsed through her fingertips.

[Tinkerer's Blessing] Proficiency Increased: 6/10.

Sylvie froze.

That had never happened before.

She had used [Tinkerer's Blessing] to analyze and repair things, but this was the first time she had gained proficiency just by making something from scratch.

So… I can level it up by inventing things?

The realization sent a thrill through her. If she could gain skill just by creating new mechanisms, then she had a clear way to grow stronger in this world—fast.

She grinned. This was useful.

But she wasn't done yet.

Step three: The irritant.

She needed something strong, something that would burn on contact with skin and eyes. Sylvie bit her lip, running through possibilities. Then, she remembered the firethorn peppers in her mother's spice stores. They were already used in tiny amounts for cooking because of their insane heat. If she concentrated their essence…

She snuck into the kitchen, grabbing a handful of dried firethorn peppers and a small bottle of alcohol tincture used for medicine. Alcohol would help extract the peppers' potency and keep the mixture from spoiling.

Back in her room, she ground the peppers into the finest powder she could manage, coughing as the fiery dust filled the air. Then, she mixed it with the alcohol, watching as the liquid turned a deep, angry red.

Her eyes stung just from being near it. This was going to work.

Carefully, she poured the mixture into the wooden tube, sealed it, and attached the gourd pump. She took a deep breath and squeezed the mechanism.

A fine mist sprayed from the nozzle.

The moment the final piece clicked into place, a translucent message flickered in her vision.

"You have invented an item that does not yet exist in this world. Additional proficiency added."

[Tinkerer's Blessing] Proficiency Increased: 8/10.

Sylvie's breath hitched.

Another message?

She had gained even more proficiency?

Her heart pounded as she reread the words. Does this mean I get extra proficiency for making completely new inventions? Atleast new to this world…

The possibilities raced through her mind. If she could create more things that had never existed before, she could level up her skill even faster.

A slow, excited grin spread across her face.

This changed everything.

She turned the wooden device over in her hands, admiring it. A primitive but functional pepper spray. The first of its kind in this world.

She needed a name for it.

After a moment of thought, she whispered, "Pepper Mist."

It was simple. Fitting. And, if things went well, the first of many inventions.

Just as she was admiring her work, the door suddenly swung open.

Sylas barged in. "Alright, what are you up to?"

Sylvie nearly dropped the Pepper Mist. She quickly shoved it behind her back, but Sylas wasn't buying it. He crossed his arms. "You're definitely up to something."

Sighing, she brought out the wooden tube and held it up. "It's something for self-defense. I call it Pepper Mist."

Sylas squinted at it. "Pepper Mist? What's it do?"

Sylvie smirked. "It makes people regret messing with me."

Sylas frowned, stepping closer. "How?"

She hesitated. Explaining this to someone who had never seen anything like it was going to be tricky. "Okay, imagine if someone got a bunch of crushed firethorn peppers sprayed into their face. What would happen?"

Sylas wrinkled his nose. "They'd probably scream and cry."

"Exactly. This thing sprays a fine mist of that. If someone attacks me, I just press here"—she demonstrated without pressing fully—"and it releases a burning cloud straight into their eyes. No magic. Just ingenuity."

Sylas tilted his head. "So… it's not magic?"

"Nope. Just clever use of materials."

Sylas rubbed his chin, intrigued. "How strong is it?"

Sylvie grinned. "Wanna test it?"

Sylas scoffed. "What, you think I'm dumb? No way I'm—"

PFFFT.

A fine mist sprayed directly into his face.

For a heartbeat, there was silence. Then—

"AAAAAHHHHH!" Sylas stumbled back, clutching his eyes. "IT BURNS! WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS?!"

Sylvie gasped. "I didn't mean to press it! Oh no, oh no—"

Sylas flailed, knocking into the wall. "WATER! WATER!"

Sylvie scrambled to grab a cloth, laughing despite herself. "Well, I guess I know it works now!"

Sylas groaned, his face red and teary-eyed. "This is the worst thing you've ever made."

"Then don't try to steal it from me," Sylvie teased, handing him the damp cloth.

He muttered curses as he wiped his eyes, but once he recovered, his expression turned serious. "Sylvie… this thing is actually kinda amazing."

She blinked at him. "You think so?"

He nodded, still squinting. "I mean, if I didn't know better, I'd say this was some kind of alchemist's tool. But you made this from nothing. Imagine if other people got their hands on one of these."

Sylvie felt a flicker of excitement.

This was just the beginning.