It was a beautiful morning, with the sun shone warm rays on the houses, accompanied by the laughter of children playing, birds singing beautiful melodies, and the shouts of hatred and despair from a person echoing through an apartment complex...

  "GET AWAY, IMITATION OF THE SUN!" Jeff said with great anger—and a bit of fear—while throwing some small objects at Esfer, who, for thier part, was not bothered by his master's attacks.

  "Master, I know you're in a hysterical state, but I advise you to stop throwing things; it's futile."

  "Don't call me Master, you life-sucking sphere. And stop using complicated words for the audience."

  Despite his words, Jeff eventually stopped throwing things and hid behind a dining room chair, eyeing Esfer suspiciously.

  The seconds ticked by in profound silence in the room, but Jeff's mind was in utter chaos. *What on earth am I doing? Did I really try to confront a being who considers humans weak-minded? Humans, the ones at the top of the food chain. They even said genies are inferior to them–to Esfer… and now I find out genies exist. What's next? Aliens? Witches? Respectful politicians?*

  "Master, they actually—" Esfer couldn't finish because of an interruption.

  "AAAAAHHHH!" Jeff screamed in a high-pitched voice that would make a castrato envious for two reasons. "AAAAHHHH, DON'T SAY ANYTHING!! I don't want to hear it... Wait!" Jeff, who had his hands over his ears, trying to keep his mind from being corrupted by new knowledge, nervously turned to Esfer.

  *Can you… read my mind?*

  Esfer responded with a slow nod.

  "AAAAAHHH!" Another scream from Jeff echoed through the apartment, and before he could regret it, cry, laugh, or do all three at once, the apartment door swung open, revealing an older woman behind it. She wasn’t a sweet old lady, but she wasn’t exactly a young woman either.

  She was Marta, the landlady of the small apartment complex where Jeff lived. She had a few wrinkles on her face, was short in stature, and had short black hair streaked with gray. She would have looked like an ordinary woman if it weren’t for the baseball bat she was gripping with both hands—ready either to hit a home run or smash someone’s skull.

  And her words upon entering the apartment didn’t help matters. “What’s going on?!” she yelled, surveying the mess. “Another thief?! Where are you, you wretch?!” she screamed with all the rage she possessed and ran into another room in search of the intruder.

  “Mrs. Marta, calm down, there’s no thief here.”

  “Are you sure?” Marta asked as she emerged from Jeff’s closet. And he, standing to one side, recoiled with a startled yelp.

  "AAAHHH— I mean, yes, I'm absolutely sure there's no burglar, Marta," Jeff said, trying to recover from his little scare.

  "Phew, what a relief," Marta muttered, genuinely relieved—though that feeling immediately twisted into anger aimed squarely at the miserable protagonist.

  "So!! Why were you screaming like a madman?! And why is this apartment such a pigsty?! And why are you still so malnourished?! Haven't you followed my advice?!"

  Her shouts echoed through the apartment, and her bat was once again pointed straight at her prey—Jeff.

  Jeff was scared by his situation, because… who wouldn't be scared if someone pointed a bat at you?

  "Calm down, Marta," Jeff said, trying to lighten the mood and himself. "Look, I… saw a spider, yeah, that's it, and it started crawling all over the apartment, and I tried to squash it, but I couldn't."

  Marta looked at Jeff seriously for a moment.

  "...Is that true?"

  "Yes, that's right," Jeff confirmed, nodding his head several times.

  Marta sighed.

  "Okay, but next time you see a spider in the apartment, you'd better call me, crybaby."

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  "For your information, it's currently respectable and well-regarded for a man to show his emotions—aaaand she's already gone." As Jeff said, Marta didn't wait for Jeff's explanation and left the room. With that, Jeff was left alone in the room... yes, you read that right.

  "Wait a minute, where is that cursed sphere?"

  He didn't have to wait even two seconds before hearing, "What do you wish, Master?" from beside him, which caused him to let out a shout that he quickly muffled with his hand so as not to disturb Marta again.

  "What on earth are you doing appearing out of nowhere without warning?" Jeff commented angrily, though in a whisper.

  "I'm sorry, Master. I'll keep that in mind," Esfer replied, mimicking his Master's whisper.

  "You'd better… why are you whispering?"

  "Because you were whispering."

  "And why are we still whispering?"

  "I don't know."

  "...What if we stop whispering?"

  "Good idea, Master."

  .

  .

  .

  The whispers in the room ceased. Instead, the sound of footsteps across the floor filled the room, caused by Jeff. He was deep in thought, occasionally glancing at Esfer, who was floating in a chair.

  Jeff stopped pacing and turned his full attention to Esfer. “Okay, let’s recap. You appeared when I made a wish upon a shooting star.”

  “That’s correct, Master,” Esfer affirmed in their servile tone.

  "And now I'm your master, and I can ask you for wishes."

  "You understand very well, Master."

  "But for you to grant me those wishes, I must offer you my life."

  "...Yes."

  The tension returned, but it vanished as quickly as it came.

  "Okay, frankly, that's to be expected from something so valuable, but how do you work with wishes? What exactly can I ask for? And about the life you have to take from me... how does that work?" Jeff asked, intrigued.

  Esfer politely and willingly told Jeff, "You see, Master, the wishes I grant usually involve altering reality to fulfill what you desire."

  "Alter reality?"

  "Yes, altering reality by materializing things or manipulating existing things."

  "Hmm, I see," Jeff commented, crossing his arms and putting on an intellectual face—he even had glasses on—but in his mind he was thinking, "I don't understand a damn thing."

  Esfer, looking uncomfortably at their master (who seemed to have forgotten that Esfer could read his mind), continued their explanation. "Master, let me explain in more detail. Do you remember your wish for the juice?"

  "Yes, of course... wait, was that a wish?" Jeff's nervousness was evident mid-sentence.

  "That's right,” Esfer replied calmly—either because he didn’t understand his master's distress, or because he simply didn’t care. He continued, “In order for me to materialize something, I need a raw material, which is my master's lifetime. Just like a strand of yarn, I can weave it and create your wish. And for each weaving, I need a certain amount of yarn—your lifetime—to make it happen. Do you understand, Master?"

  “Huh? Yes, I think so… but I have a question.”

  “Go ahead.”

  "You say you use my lifetime to materialize and alter things, but what are the limits on desires—like the type of desire? For example, would having superpowers, altering time or reality be possible?"

  Esfer pondered Jeff's words before answering, "Well, technically, I can conceive those desires, but the amount of lifetime required to materialize them would be enormous.

  For example: delaying time by one minute would take 10 human years; altering something like a universal law would take 100 human years; and as for superpowers, it depends. For instance, if you want to increase your strength—something you could achieve through exercise—I can do that, and it would take about 5 years. But if you want super strength, super speed, the ability to shoot laser beams from your eyes, and the power to fly, I would have to modify universal laws, and that would cost much more lifetime. Although, if you want, I can create a blue-and-red suit in your size."

  "No, thank you. I don't want to use something that could get me a copyright claim."

  "Anyway, Master, if you use my wishes wisely, and by adding a part of yourself—because I'm not a fairy godmother—

  I can grant your wishes and help you reach your goals."

  Jeff looked at Esfer in surprise. With everything that had happened that day, he had forgotten how beneficial it could be to have them by his side.

  "I can fulfill... my dreams… what I desire in life?"

  Jeff's body was still, but his mind was talking: *With them, I really can do the true help, I... I really can do it.*

  Closing his eyes a little, Jeff could see images—or rather, relive them. Moments in elementary school, where everything felt and looked different, where he had learned the true help.

  Jeff opened his eyes again with strong determination, but they were glassy. "Very well, Esfer, I accept the contract," he said in a motivated voice, his gaze still strong.

  Esfer, unlike him, was confused. "Contract? What contract, Master?" Jeff's composure shifted to one similar to Esfer's.

  "Huh? I'm saying that I will accept your power and therefore make a deal, contract, or ritual with you."

  "Oh, Master, that's not necessary," Esfer said nonchalantly. "From the moment you made your wish, you were granted the pleasure of having me as your servant."

  The two locked eyes, Jeff with a hint of resentment and Esfer confused. "You know you're good at killing the mood, right?" Jeff said wearily.

  "Huh? What did I do now?" *It seems this master will be one of the most curious and strange I've ever had.*