SSS Class Awakening: I Can Forge My Beast Soul Avatars
Chapter 15: The Tailor’s shop

Chapter 15: The Tailor’s shop

The journey to the academy’s tailor was longer than Atlas expected.

The shop was tucked away in a sprawling district known across campus as the Welfare and Services Block — a section of the academy built high upon a separate ridge of the mountain.

While still within the school’s fortified borders, it sat elevated above the academic halls.

Rather than trekking up the steep mountain paths on foot, Seraphine led Atlas to a cable car station. It cost her a single bronze coin, but the swaying iron car carried them swiftly up the mountain face, depositing them directly at the edge of the bustling district.

When they stepped out, Atlas was stunned.

The Welfare and Services Block felt less like a collection of school facilities and more like a thriving, self-contained campus town.

Cobblestone streets stretched ahead, lined with tall brick and stone buildings featuring green-striped awnings, grand arched windows, and vintage iron lampposts.

At the far end of the thoroughfare, the slender spire of the academy chapel pierced the sky.

Red service carts and horse-drawn carriages rolled steadily over the stones, transporting medical crates, food supplies, and departmental materials between buildings.

Instead of townsfolk, the street was packed entirely with students.

Groups clad in various academy uniforms crisscrossed the avenue — some in pink and white dresses clutching folders and books, others in dark skirts and tailored blouses heading toward the campus hospital, and a few in formal coats hurrying along with leather satchels and specialized equipment.

Students chatted outside storefronts, gathered in small queues, or walked in quiet pairs. The energy was busy, organized, and distinctly academic.

Atlas quickly noticed something unusual. Almost everyone walking the streets was a student. The few adults he spotted were shopkeepers, clerks, medical staff, and tradesmen working behind the various counters.

The block catered to every practical need: a massive central hospital, a goods exchange where students traded raw materials and equipment, canteens, supply depots, and administrative offices.

"Welcome to the Welfare and Services Block," Seraphine announced, glancing back at him.

Atlas grinned, his emerald eyes taking in the grand architecture. "It’s huge."

"It has to be," she explained, stepping ahead. "This is where all commercial activity happens — food, gear, even school supplies. The hospital here is far better equipped than the small first-aid clinics near the dorms."

"They must have spent a fortune building all this," Atlas mused.

Seraphine nodded quietly. "Probably."

Over the past hour, her dark mood had lifted considerably. During their trek, Atlas had tried to gently pry into her history with Gerald, but she had shut down immediately, shooting him glares so sharp and cold they made his throat go dry.

She had maintained a heavy silence the rest of the way, leaving Atlas sweating nervously in her wake.

’At least she’s back to normal now...’ he thought, wiping a stray bead of sweat from his forehead.

"Stay close or you’ll get lost in the crowd," Seraphine said, suddenly reaching back and grabbing his wrist. "The tailor’s shop is just down the street."

"Woah — hey! Slow down!" Atlas yelped as she yanked him mercilessly through the surge of pedestrian traffic.

They moved swiftly through the bustling crowd. Seeing students from other departments going about their daily routines was a refreshing change of pace from the suffocating tension of Class 5E.

’This place isn’t half bad,’ Atlas thought, looking around.

As they walked, the warm, sugary aroma of freshly baked bread drifted out from an open bakery window. Atlas’s mouth watered instantly. ’Oh man, that smells incredible...’

A few moments later, Seraphine brought them to a halt in front of a refined, two-story shop.

The exterior was composed of dark brick, featuring a polished bronze sign mounted above the entrance. It depicted a thread looping through the eye of a needle alongside a skein of woven yarn, framed by the bold title: House of Wonders.

A smaller brass plaque beside the doorframe added: Ravensgate Tailor, Est. 1875.

A soft bell jingled overhead as Seraphine pushed the heavy door open. Just inside the doorway lay a plush coir mat alongside a neat wooden sign that read: Please remove shoes before entering.

Complying without hesitation, the duo slipped off their footwear, stepping onto the pristine floor in their socks.

The interior greeted them with the rich scent of polished cedar, fine wool, and freshly brewed tea.

Warm light reflected off immaculate parquet floors that were swept so clean Atlas could almost see his reflection in the wood grain.

To their left, a heavy oak counter held open ledger books, brass measuring tapes, and a display board pinned with buttons and thread samples, backed by tall shelves reached via a rolling ladder.

In the center fitting area stood an oval mirror, a dress form draped in a half-finished coat, and tailor’s chalk resting on a thick woven rug.

To the right, a brick fireplace crackled softly between two leather armchairs, beneath walls adorned with framed portraits and decorative antlers.

In the front display window, three mannequins showcased custom uniforms — one in a crisp white shirt, another in a tailored grey coat with a crimson cravat, and a third in a formal black suit.

’Woah... this place is bigger than the main living room at the orphanage!’ Atlas thought in awe.

"Ah, students!" an energetic voice called out.

An eccentric, middle-aged man with sharp spectacles and a measuring tape draped around his neck hustled out from behind a curtain.

"Welcome, welcome! Please, come right in! Don’t just hover at the door!"

Atlas and Seraphine bowed politely, stepping deeper into the showroom.

"Now, what can I do for you two today?" the tailor asked briskly, his eyes darting between them before pausing on Atlas.

He blinked, instantly catching the faded orphan clothes Atlas was wearing. "Oh dear. What on earth happened to your academy uniform, young man?"

"I’m a new transfer," Atlas explained quickly. "I just arrived today and haven’t been issued a uniform yet. Mr. Crosswell sent me here to get measured and customize my set, and Seraphine was kind enough to show me the way."

"A new enrollment! Is that so?" The tailor’s eyes lit up with enthusiasm. "Welcome to Linux Academy! I’m sure your first day has been an absolute whirlwind. Hold that thought — let me fetch some tea so we can properly discuss your design."

Before Atlas could even open his mouth, the man vanished through the back curtain with surprising speed.

’He’s energetic... way too energetic,’ Atlas noted, sharing a bewildered glance with Seraphine.

A moment later, the tailor returned carrying a polished bronze platter equipped with three porcelain teacups, a silver sugar bowl, and a steaming kettle.

"Please, sit, sit!" he gestured toward the leather armchairs by the hearth.

"Ah, you really don’t have to go to all this trouble," Atlas said, waving his hands defensively. "I don’t want to take up too much of your time. I can just give you my basic measurements and—"

"Nonsense!" the tailor interrupted smoothly, pouring the tea with practiced precision. "That is simply not how true craftsmanship works! To craft a uniform that fits not just your body, but your soul, I must understand who you are. And for that, my boy, we must have a proper conversation." He flashed a bright, undeniable smile.

Atlas looked over at Seraphine, who casually took a cup of tea and settled into one of the armchairs, completely unfazed.

Atlas let out a slow breath, scratching his cheek as he sat down. ’Man... this is going to take a while.’