"Young miss, I apologize for my sickness, but I don't think you need to come here," Albert complains as he coughs and barely can move from his rocking chair. He is overlooking the fireplace while reading a book in his hands.
I shouldn't come here, but I can't stand it. There is nothing but chemistry and romance in the library. I have climbed every single book rack, and all I see are those books. There are some leftover journals from the last war that my father wrote, but those are them. Materialmancing isn't a relevant subject in my home. I have drawn the basic parts of the M4, but I doubt it will be adequate.
"I wish I could, but my home doesn't have too many subjects regarding gunsmithing, and right now, you're my only source," I say to Albert, giving my own reason. I need to make my M4 almost perfect on the first attempt, at the very least.
