Fiore! A nation embraced by happiness, magic, and much more. Even with the assistance of magic, everyday people had everyday problems, and Abraham just happened to get caught up in one of these incidents.
A rather chubby, middle-aged man had stopped Abraham on his way to a famous steakhouse in the area. If anything, the sudden encounter made Abraham feel rather jolly. Apparently, the man's truck had broken down after his magic-fueled engine had given in. Typical! It's only expected when a man relies to heavily on magic that such tragedies happen. Not only that, a mailman should have some understanding of how his vehicle, his primary form of swift transportation, and should be able to fix it.
Originally, Abraham was quick to decline the offer. He had better things to do, and such hard labor would not be done out of the kindness of his heart. Every man for himself. That is, until he was offered some jewels. The chubby man offered enough to pay for his meal at the next-door steakhouse, and like so, Abraham couldn't refuse such an offer.
"So you'll do it?" The chubby mailman fretted. Abraham, with his usual suit and shades on, snatched the bag of letters and packages from the man and grunted.
"Yeah, yeah. I told you the last two times, fatty." Abraham assured with a click of the tongue, lifting the bag over his shoulders. "I'll return eventually." He concluded before taking off.
House by house, letter by letter, package by package, they were all dropped off and delivered in a matter of thirty minutes. The sweet summer heat followed by the comforting chill of a breeze against his cheek. Why was everything so bright in Fiore? Sunny days every day, cloudless skies, and jolly citizens, quite different from Pergrande.
With the help of incredible speed, Abraham was quick to return to the mailman who lounged anxiously within his broken truck with his cap on his belly and eyes closed tightly. As the much taller, muscular Abe approached him, his blank expression morphed into a scowl.
With a relaxed motion, Abraham tossed the empty sack onto the resting face of the mailman. "Wake up!" Abraham hissed.
"Huh?! O-Oh... what?" The mailman looked in all directions, startled. "Oh, it's you! Here, let me get your jewels..."
As the mailman twisted and turned and groped about his vehicle to find his compensation, Abraham had been eyeing down the truck with a curious gaze. "Pretty old truck,
huh? Give me a wrench and screwdriver if you have one." Abraham demanded, holding out his hand.
The mailman, confused, went through his bags to retrieve the tools Abe requested, and before he knew it, Abraham had been fiddling around with the truck's engine.
Sounds of screws screwing, metal pounding against metal, the clank of the wrench. Before they knew it, the truck was fixed.
"Try starting it now, fatty." Abraham insisted with a sigh.
"A-Alright!" The mailman jolted up and switched the car on, the vehicle vibrating comfortably. "It's running!" He cajoled.
"Of course it's working. You have the honor of talking to one of Pergrande's finest engineers. Your shabby truck should be running better than ever with my tweaks. Where're my jewels?"