Klein was in the middle of going over display cabinet dimensions with Joe when his phone rang.
Peter. He picked up.
"Klein!" The excitement was audible from arm's length. "Aunt May said yes! She wants to meet you first though — see the place, talk through the details."
"Tell her to come by in a week. Renovation will be done by then." Klein gave him the address. "I'll show her around and walk through everything."
"Perfect! I'll let her know!"
Klein pocketed the phone and went back to the cabinet measurements, in a noticeably better mood. The receptionist question was solved, and with someone he already had a connection to through Peter. That was one less thing to figure out from scratch.
Joe's crew delivered exactly what they'd promised.
One week to the day, Klein walked into the ground floor and stopped.
The space had transformed completely. Dark gray matte tiles ran across the floor, clean as glass. The walls were a warm light beige under the carefully positioned spotlights and wall lamps — ambient without being dim, atmospheric without being theatrical. The solid wood entrance screen was dark walnut, the carved cutouts forming a simple cloud pattern that broke the sightline from the street without feeling like a wall.
The full-height display cabinet along the far wall was finished — dark walnut frame, glass-fronted panels polished clear. Empty for now, waiting to be filled. The long worktable sat in its designated position. In the lounge corner, two well-proportioned single sofas flanked a low coffee table.
The whole space felt exactly as Klein had described to Joe: low-key, deliberate, carrying weight without announcing it.
Upstairs was clean and bright — fresh white walls, refinished and varnished floors, new kitchen and bathroom fixtures throughout.
Klein walked every room twice, checked every corner, and came back down satisfied.
"Outstanding work, Joe." He clapped the contractor on the shoulder and counted out the remaining payment in cash.
Joe took it with a broad smile. "Anytime you need anything, Mr. Liu — or if any of your people need work done — you know my number."
Klein saw him and the crew out, then rolled up his sleeves and started sorting through the procurement boxes to begin setting up the display cabinets.
He'd barely opened the first box when the doorbell chimed.
He turned.
A woman stood at the entrance.
She looked to be in her late thirties, early forties — time had given her face a kind of settled grace rather than taking anything from it. Brown hair gathered into a neat bun at the back of her head. Her eyes were scanning the interior with calm curiosity before they found him, and she offered a polite smile.
"Excuse me — is Klein Liu here?"
"That's me."
"Hi. I'm May Parker. Peter's aunt."
Klein blinked.
This was Peter's aunt.
He'd built up a mental image over months of Peter's occasional references to her — a kind woman, taking on odd jobs, holding things together after losing her husband. He'd pictured someone older. Tired, maybe. The way people who'd been quietly carrying things for years sometimes looked.
The woman standing in his doorway was warm, poised, and — Klein was honest enough with himself to register this cleanly — genuinely attractive in a way that the word "aunt" had not prepared him for whatsoever.
He had a brief, involuntary moment of reconsidering everything he thought he knew about Peter Parker's home life.
He has been holding out on me, Klein thought, with some feeling.
The system chose this particular moment to chime in.
[Ding!][Marvel story character detected: May Parker.][Reward: Charm +1.]
Klein absorbed that in silence.
Charm plus one. Okay.
He put on his best smile and stepped forward.
"Aunt May — Peter talks about you constantly. How kind you are, how much you've done for him." He extended his hand. "I have to say, he completely failed to mention you were this young. I was expecting someone entirely different."
May Parker laughed, slightly caught off guard, a faint color rising in her cheeks. "That's very kind of you. And please — just May is fine." She shook his hand. "Peter talks about you too. He says you've been a real friend to him. Thank you for thinking of me for this."
"The gratitude goes both ways. Come in — it's still a bit of a work in progress, but you'll get the idea."
Klein led her through the ground floor, pointing out the layout as they moved. May followed with evident curiosity, her eyes moving over the details — the woodwork, the display cabinet wall, the Eastern elements worked into the overall design.
"This is beautiful," she said, pausing at the cabinet. "Very specific atmosphere. What kind of consultancy is this, exactly?"
"Special cases," Klein said. "People come to me when something in their home or their life doesn't have an ordinary explanation — persistent unease, unexplained phenomena, things that don't respond to normal solutions. I investigate and apply some traditional Eastern methods." He gestured toward the items still in boxes — talismans, the compass, the jujube wood sword. "Traditional tools, traditional techniques. It's a niche, but the demand is real."
May considered this with the expression of someone taking it seriously rather than dismissing it. "And you'd need me to—"
"Reception. Keep the space clean, greet anyone who walks in, handle marked-price sales from the display cases directly, log appointment inquiries for me. That's genuinely all of it." Klein looked at her. "The hours are Monday through Friday, around eight hours a day, mornings on Saturday and Sunday. Weekly salary — a thousand dollars to start, more once business establishes itself."
May's eyebrows went up slightly. "Klein, that's — that's quite generous for what you're describing."
"You're taking on the whole front of the operation solo. And you're Peter's family." Klein shrugged. "I'm not going to lowball you."
She was quiet for a moment. Then she smiled — a warmer smile this time, less polite and more genuine.
"Then I accept. Thank you."
"When can you start?"
"How about right now?" She looked around at the unopened boxes stacked along the wall. "You're going to need help with all of this, and I suspect you're going to do it wrong if left to yourself."
Klein started to object and then looked at the boxes and reconsidered.
"...Fair point."
May was already rolling up her sleeves.
[End of Chapter 21]
Show Some By Powerstones
Next BONUS CHAPTER at 200 powerstones