Every ten minutes, Theo would open a window to peek outside, and each time, he’d find that there was no sign of his minion. Anxious, the dungeon started rearranging when little items there were within him. For starters, all the coins were neatly piled in stacks of a hundred and pleased neatly next to the spinning wheel. Annoyed to have them on the floor, Theo then used some energy to make a special table to hold them all. Naturally, having one nice element in an otherwise messy room was out of the question. Spending most of his previous adult life, Theo had developed “selective OCD” urging him to fix a few things.

A nice mahogany floor was created and covered by a thick Persian carpet. Cmyk’s med was moved to a separate bedroom, while the spinning wheel remained in what was to be a workroom. A wardrobe was created, in which Theo threw all the minion’s remaining clothes and accessories, then he started making chairs.

Are you planning on inviting anyone inside? Spoke gingerly approached the subject.

“What makes you think that?” Theo replied with a snort.

That usually is what chairs are for…

“It’s the principle of the thing,” Theo replied. “A house needs to have a few chairs. It’s practically tradition.”

I see…

“And a few trinkets here and there. And a kitchen. Yes, I must have a kitchen, and… are there concepts such as running water?”

I believe water has been running since the creation of the world, Spok replied. If you are referring to indoor plumbing and waterworks, those exist in some cities, but require a special permit. Personally, I would recommend against it. As a magic structure, you have the means to create a better and cheaper equivalent, by merely investing some energy in it.

The dungeon wasn’t particularly convinced.

And, of course, you won’t need to apply for any additional permits. In fact, that’s all included in the magic permit you’ll inevitably need to acquire.

“I see…” Bureaucracy was the only thing capable of changing Theo’s mind quickly. “How do I get one of those?”

You need to send a request to the nearest accredited Mage Tower, asking for an in-person inspection and evaluation. With the recent increase in magic construction, a detailed schematic of the structure, along with a list of local spells and magic appliances, will also be enough. Along with a small donation, of course.

“Of course.” Theo grumbled. Apparently, some things never changed. “Won’t the mages be annoyed I’m sending something they could create on their own?”

That’s a common misconception, the spirit guide explained. Transfiguration is generally a dungeon discipline. While mages do, in fact, have the knowledge to create gold, the mana requirements are punishingly high. Most often, they could only create something that has the appearance of gold for a few hours.

“I see. And I can send the request through magic means? I don’t need to wait for Cmyk to get there or anything?”

That is the preferred method.

“Okay. Tell me how to make a request.”

If I may, I think it’ll be much faster if I composed the request and all accompanying documents. All you need to do is focus some energy for me to use.

“Hmm,” Theo said, considering the option.

It’s a huge step, I know. But let me assure you, guides cannot act in a way to harm their dungeon. Unbreakable oaths aside, it is hardly practical, since whatever happens to you will happen to me as well.

“You know what? Is there a way for me to give you a bucket of energy or something, so you do all that without constantly having to bother me with details?” the dungeon asked.

Spok was rendered speechless. The spirit guide had long gotten used to illogical phrases—such as “bucket of energy”—but being offered absolute autonomous freedom was unprecedented. Dungeons never did that. That was one of the reasons binding oaths had been created in the first place. Spirit guides were created with vast knowledge, so they depended on the dungeon’s energy. More often than not, one of the first requests dungeons made during their own reincarnation process was to emerge without a spirit guide, but with a few ready abilities instead.

Are you sure you want to grant me that much autonomy? Spok asked.

“You can handle that stuff, right?”

Yes, but that’s—

“And you’ll deal with the daily maintenance of things and all other annoying tasks?”

Only basic chores. All important decisions will be left to you, or at the very least, require your permission.

“Good. You’re hired!” Theo opened and closed all windows of the building out of habit. In the past life that was his way of indicating that a discussion was over—at least when talking to employees beneath him on the food chain. Here, the action caused a lot of people on the street to give the building a strange look. “Build the rest of the rooms, make a kitchen, a bathroom, and all the other fancy things, and then teleport the magic permit request.”

Err, I am not allowed to use spells outside of the dungeon…

“You are now. I’m making you responsible for all the mail. Questions?”

If the spirit guide had a head to shake, it would definitely have done so.”

“Perfect! Let me not keep you from your work,” Theo said in managerial fashion. “If you have any further questions, don’t hesitate to let me know. In the meantime, I’ll be taking a nap.”

And so, the transformation of the dungeon began. Most of what Theo had created was discretely destroyed or transformed into something with an actual fashion sense. The spinning wheel was moved to the attic, which became the work area. Spock paid particular attention to add a lot of slanted windows on the roof, as well as make the work area a lot more accommodating. The idea was taken from Theo’s memories of his former life, but modified to be suitable for local architectural norms. The third floor was transformed into a giant library, complete with statues, exotic plants, and a few aesthetically pleasing magical devices. In addition, an armory was also created there—mostly decorative in nature—and long with a work study.

The second floor was made into a vast, but void of people, living area that would be the envy of fashion magazines: a giant master bedroom—complete with enchanted fireplace—, a trophy room, as well as a huge bathroom made of gray and blue marble.

The ground floor had a well-equipped kitchen, not that anyone was going to use it, the entrance lobby, as well as the grand hall in which guests would be invited—not that ever was going to happen. Cmyk’s bed and other possessions were moved to the basement, which was a living area on its own. As any minion, that was the only proper place for him, although Spok did take care to make it rather comfortable. That didn’t prevent the guide from adding a few prison cells, just in case.

Finally, the lowest level of the dungeon was transformed into the traditional treasure room, complete with the core chest of Theo himself.

Rather pleased with its achievement, the guide then proceeded to compose the magic permit request and send it off along with essentially all remaining gold coins. That done, there was nothing left to do but admire the work, which Spok did… at least until there was a knock on the entrance door.