“...They should be here soon.” The merchant informed them, approaching from the nearby phone booth.

  Tiberius was currently sobbing pathetically next to Aurelius on a chair that the merchant had so kindly provided them with.

  The man had already closed up shop for the day, something that was in consideration for the investigation from the Commission that was bound to follow.

  Aurelius knew that as a merchant selling magical goods, the man likely had to have at least 2 licences for his business in his stall.

  One would be an official safety licence from the Commission for handling magical products, and the second would be a licence from the magic families which had produced the products.

  Magical families were mostly manufacturers of magic items in the modern age, with mass production of every-day items having risen to prominence over much of the production that mages had been engaged in just a few centuries prior.

  The Commission was also funded mostly through the taxation on these magical goods in modern times, a reform brought forward after the rise of the 12 prominent magical families in Teotlcan.

  This meant that the abundance of magical goods was a net benefit for both the economies of the 3 continents, as well as the Commission itself.

  However, this did not mean that the Commission took the regulatory responsibilities and policing of these goods lightly.

  Magic items were, after all, more dangerous than usual goods.

  For example, the damage that even an enchanted kitchen knife could cause compared to a normal knife was very stark.

  And mana bombs were obviously… explosive, and hence much more heavily regulated by the bureaucratic paper-pushers at the Commission.

  Now that Aurelius had convinced the onlookers that he had suffered some sort of… brain damage, the Commission would have to come down to take a look at the licences held by the merchant, and likely haul the man off for additional safety training.

  Aurelius felt almost sorry for the poor sod. After all, he just broke a few ribs because of Tiberius.

  Speaking of his friend, Tiberius was still tearful, anticipating the mountain of release forms that he would have to sign for his recklessness, and definitely the safety training programme that he would have to attend as a perpetrator of the ‘magic incident’.

  “At least you’re alive, Aurelius… If you died, I would actually be hauled off to court…” Tiberius sobbed tearfully, patting Aurelius gently on the head.

  Then, as though an idea had finally greased the rusty wheels of his brain, Tiberius squinted his eyes at Aurelius.

  “...Your name is Aurelius by the way… And I’m your very best friend. Someone that you would gladly die for. The Commission guys will definitely fix you up.” The boy claimed boldly ‘hypnotically’.

  It seemed that he was trying to take advantage of the situation now…

  Aurelius resisted the urge to snort in his absolutely annoying, round faced, idiotic friend and managed a single word through his twitching mouth.

  “...Interesting” He said simply, opting to stare straight on at the people passing by in the streets with an empty gaze, contemplating mildly on his current strategy.

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  With exceptions in the cases of Vow Breaking, a contract and its terms would need to be adhered to by its signatories.

  However, it was absolutely possible to skirt around a contract and its terms. Even the tightest legalese would have a loophole or two after all.

  A common conversation starter that businessmen referenced involved a simple and seemingly straightforward contract term such as ‘do not wave your hand’.

  The punchline of the joke among businessmen was to talk about creative ways to skirt such a term.

  For example, shaking your head side to side with your hand plastered on your face, or hanging upside down from a tree and shaking your entire body would effectively make the vagueness of the term apparent.

  For Aurelius, the contract term that was most troublesome for him involved ‘working for the Commission’ and ‘absolute secrecy’.

  Aurelius was required to study under Sage Yeltz as an apprentice, and serve the interests of the Commission under the contract and he was almost certain that this was what had been actively killing him.

  He was violating its terms by not working in the interests of the Commission, and not having Sage Yeltz as his mentor.

  He had likely died in the first loop because he had been considering completely abandoning his ties with the Commission and Sage Yeltz… The gods had truly forsaken him.

  As for the second loop, it made sense that the contract kicked in since he didn’t quite come to terms with the idea that he would need to be a… dog to the Commission until they lifted this damn contract.

  Therefore, Aurelius, through a few cycles of the 5 stages of grief, had come to accept his fate, and had decided that he needed to turn himself into the Commission.

  However, there was a rather large issue at hand.

  The ‘absolute secrecy’ aspect of the contract.

  How could he convince the Commission that he had a contract that wasn’t even registered with them in the first place without telling them anything about the aspects covered by ‘absolute secrecy’?

  Aurelius had been haunted by this question in the void until he came down with a stroke of genius.

  He would have them probe his brain on their own accord!

  ???

  “Hmmm… Brain damage huh?” The Commissioner muttered, healing Aurelius with the help of their spirit contract in the magicar.

  “What are kids these days doing, fooling around with bombs in the first place?” He complained distractedly, making Tiberius cough bashfully into his fist.

  “We may need to contact a mind mage for this. Do you guys have any identification with you? We need the patient to sign a release form… or was it the guardian? Doesn’t matter. I’d need your ID anyway.” The man muttered, scribbling away in his clipboard and adjusting his glasses habitually.

  He was likely filing a report for the injuries sustained, as well as the licence numbers of the merchant to verify back at the Commission.

  The Merchant likely would have to wait around 3 days before he would be allowed to open his business once more, after confirming that he had little to do with the incident.

  Reaching into Aurelius’s pockets, Tiberius helped a ‘baffled’ Aurelius take the coin purse out, and handed the man the identification pass along with his own.

  “Perfect.” The man muttered, sending a little bit of mana into the two cards to check the validity of the identification.

  “I’ll contact the patient’s parents when we reach the Tower for approval, and we can see the options to continue from there.” He said absent mindedly, still scribbling away on his forms.

  ???

  “Good news.” The woman said, approaching the table that Aurelius and Tiberius were seated on with enthusiasm.

  She seemed to be in her 20s with hazel hair matching the uniform of the Commission very well.

  Tiberius shifted uncomfortably in his seat, glancing at Aurelius with tears in the corner of his little beady eyes.

  “The Tower is currently in possession of a few mind magic charms that could help along with the ‘memory recovery’ process.” She announced, pulling out a charm out of her pocket with ‘showmanship’.

  “And it seems that your parents have approved their use! Congratulations Mr. Vennor, you’re getting your memories back!” She said happily, hopping up to sit on the chair herself.

  Aurelius only stared blankly with pursed lips.

  “Here’s a form for you to fill out.” She said, slipping the paper over to Aurelius.

  “We would normally refer you to a church, but I’ve been granted permission to use the charm today.”

  “Your brain is most likely suffering from a concussion or bruising that has messed with some memories. So we need to essentially ‘jump start’ your brain with the charm.” She explained.

  “So essentially, I will give you 3 choices for the ‘memory jumpstart’ process.”

  “A dinner that you had, a conversation with a friend, and a shopping experience.” She stated simply, leaning back against her chair leisurely.

  Aurelius looked at the charm curiously, his mind whirring as he thought about which one he should choose.

  After a moment’s deliberation, Aurelius decided on the most optimal choice.

  “...A dinner that I had.”