The Lower District of the academy smelled like fried dough, wet cobblestone, and poor decisions.
Perfect place to drag Felix.
"I still don't know why I had to come with you, Professor…" Felix muttered as we weaved through the bustling crowd.
"Because you lost the bet," I replied flatly. "And because watching you navigate public interactions is my third favorite form of entertainment—right behind watching Mira curse herself by accident and Wallace detonating something he calls 'completely safe."
He frowned, adjusting his hood like it'd save him from the incoming ridicule. "What are we even shopping for?"
"Ingredients. Components. Distractions. Maybe a cursed potato. Depends on what screams first."
We passed a stall selling glowing mushrooms. The vendor tried to upsell us with, "These cure depression, make your skin shine, and occasionally allow brief telepathy with frogs!"
