I Don't Know the Original, I'm Too Busy Trying to Make a Living-Chapter 177

The meeting seemed to be wrapping up.

That was when Professor Orlan spoke again, his expression suddenly more serious than before.

“My lady, there is something you need to see.”

He pulled out a long paper box from the bag he had brought with him. Opening it without a word, he revealed its contents—a flat iron.

Penelope looked at it curiously and asked, “Why did you bring this? Is there something that needs correcting?”

“Please look at the name written on the box,” Orlan replied.

Penelope leaned in, her eyes widening as she read aloud, “Da...rimi?”

“Currently, the flat irons we developed are being sold under the name darimi as makeshift irons.”

“...Huh?”

Penelope’s eyes widened further. Using a flat iron to iron clothes?

It made sense, of course. A flat iron could work as an iron, as pressing hot metal onto fabric would smooth out wrinkles.

For context, in this era, irons involved heating charcoal in a cast iron container and using it to press clothes. However, the drawbacks were significant—sparks from the charcoal often scorched the fabric.

‘Huh. Who knew? Using a flat iron like that... it’s kind of clever,’ Penelope thought.

Using a flat iron to iron clothes wouldn’t risk burning them, and it was simpler and lighter to handle. It was an ingenious adaptation.

But then Penelope muttered to herself, “But why this shape?”

“Pardon?”

“No, I mean, isn’t this clamp-like design inconvenient for ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) ironing clothes?”

After all, the flat iron’s design wasn’t ideal for ironing. While it might work for something like shirt collars, it would struggle with the intricate folds of a blouse or dress. And with its lower temperature, it would take longer to smooth out wrinkles.

“They must not have had the expertise to modify the flat iron properly,” Rector said with a wry smile.

Penelope suddenly understood. Ah, so that’s why Professor Orlan had been so cautious about information leaks.

Offering a simple solution, Penelope said, “Well, why don’t we create a proper iron ourselves before someone else manages to modify this into a real one?”

“How do you plan to do that?”

Penelope picked up her notebook and began sketching quickly. The design she drew was a modern iron.

She drew a bird-beak-shaped body with a pointed tip, a flat metal plate at the bottom, and a handle on top. In no time, she had a plausible design for an iron.

She also included a feature for adding water to create steam—a prototype for a steam iron.

“For now, let’s try making two versions. One will be a standard iron, and the other will heat water internally and release steam when a button is pressed.”

“Oh...?”

The four of them—Ahwin, Professor Orlan, Rector, and Ivette—leaned in to examine Penelope’s notebook.

Raising an eyebrow, Ahwin asked, “When did you think of this?”

“Just... now?” Penelope replied, avoiding his gaze.

Professor Orlan immediately burst out in admiration. “Did you just come up with the optimal shape for ironing clothes in this short time?”

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“My lady, you’re undoubtedly a genius!”

“Amazing!” Ivette chimed in, her eyes sparkling.

It seemed like they would continue praising her forever if left unchecked. Penelope stared into the distance for a moment, silently apologizing to the inventor of the iron in her previous life. However, after creating the hairdryer and curling iron, the iron felt like a relatively small transgression.

“Ironing will require higher temperatures than styling hair,” Penelope explained. “If we use the same heat level as flat irons, it won’t remove wrinkles effectively. For now, irons using heated charcoal will still be better at smoothing out fabric.”

“That makes sense! A very insightful observation. We’ll ensure the iron is capable of higher temperatures,” Professor Orlan said, beaming.

There was a certain manic energy about Orlan that Penelope had noticed before—a kind of brilliance and madness unique to those utterly obsessed with their craft.

“We’ll develop the iron alongside the wringer. It might extend the timeline a bit, though.”

“You’re making both at the same time?” Penelope couldn’t help but be surprised.

Professor Orlan’s eyes gleamed as he turned to Rector, who nodded before looking at Ahwin.

Ahwin frowned instinctively, sensing where this was going.

"Are you asking me for help?"

"Not exactly."

"Then why are you looking at me so slyly?"

Lector almost stumbled over his own feet. Ahwin had been in a foul mood lately, largely because he hadn’t had a proper date with Penelope in a while. Unfortunately, Lector hadn’t been aware of this little detail.

With quick thinking, Lector managed to calm Ahwin’s irritation.

"At just the right time, there happen to be two skilled mages from the Tower of Magic here. I’d like to borrow them for a while."

"Take them. Don’t bother returning them."

"Haha, you’re quite the jokester."

Lector replied with an easy laugh, then added sincerely, "You two make a wonderful pair. Truly, the best couple I’ve ever met."

"...Just go."

Ahwin’s tone was curt, and his face slightly flushed, but it didn’t seem like he disliked Lector’s words.

Indeed, when it came to smoothing over Ahwin’s temper, no one could hold a candle to Lector.

Professor Oran bowed slightly to Penelope, his lips twitching as if suppressing a smile.

"Then I’ll see you in ten days."

Penelope’s daily routine remained as usual.

In other words, meetings with her retainers or reviewing documents in her office.

As she sat at her desk, flipping through papers to approve, she crossed her legs restlessly. She was starting to get curious about how the dehydration machine was coming along.

"It’s been a week. It must be almost done by now, right? I mean, with the design in hand, all they have to do is make the parts and put them together."

If any product developer had overheard her, they would have clicked their tongue at such a carefree assumption.

While Penelope stared blankly into the air, Ahwin waved a hand in front of her face, startling her into leaning back.

"What—what are you doing?"

"What kind of daydreaming are you doing while working?"

"Well, I was just..."

"Just what?"

Ahwin pressed her for an answer, his eyes glinting with determination. He wasn’t going to let this go. Forced to respond, Penelope finally admitted her thoughts.

"Aren’t you curious how far along the dehydration machine is?"

"What’s there to be curious about? Professor Oran will handle it just fine."

"But we don’t get to see the process. I want to know how it’s being made."

Penelope suddenly stood and leaned close to him, making Ahwin flinch and nearly step back from her intensity.

"Now that I think about it, I’ve never seen Professor Oran actually create a prototype based on a design."

"And?"

"Now that the major estate issues are settled, couldn’t we go see it?"

"..."

Ahwin couldn’t find a response. Penelope’s eyes sparkled with excitement. She was clearly dying to know if the prototype would match her design.

Lately, she’d been visiting the laundry grounds every day, to the point it seemed like she was clocking in for work.

She would touch the damp clothes hanging on the line, muttering things like, "Hmm, this isn’t quite right," in a tone that no one could decipher. Her expression and gaze made it look like she was grading the laundry’s quality.

To Ahwin, it was just an ordinary laundry setup, but Penelope seemed distinctly unimpressed.

"It’s not about estate policies, magic tools, or anything significant... but laundry? How can she possibly be dissatisfied with the state of laundry? And what’s worse, how is it that I’m losing to the laundry?"

Crack.

Ahwin could practically hear the sound of his pride shattering.

He had let the estate matters slide. After all, Penelope had claimed that keeping the estate running smoothly would give them more time to enjoy their relationship. That made sense, considering her compassionate nature.

But now? Now, she was stressing over laundry not drying properly.

His lower lip jutted out slightly, giving him a sulky expression he couldn’t quite control.

It didn’t take long for Penelope to notice his mood.