God Of Crafting

The lobby of the city's Governor's Administration was spacious, elegant, and slithering in luxury, but also had air no different than the sweaty lobbies at the overcrowded doctor's office.

Every seat was taken by a customer, each of them holding for their dear life the small, paper ticket outlining their number in the queue.

And all of that, roughly an hour before the office would officially open and the clerks would man their stations.

Right now, all the customers with actually urgent matters to deal with yet no backing to get easier, backdoor access had no other choice but to waste an hour of their time just waiting for the office to open.

In exchange, rather than relying on the fancy new idea of using tickets, most of them organized into various queues designated for each of the stations and based on nothing more but a honor system.

Such was the fate of most of the reforms shaking the city's founding principles since the former governor took power, only to then retire halfway through his tenure and elevate my uncle to the highest political status of the town. The concept was there, and the delivery was good enough, but people…

People were simply too stuck in their own ways to accept the change, even if that change's one modus operandi was to make things more convenient if not simply better.

But no!

How could people use tickets when those hardly favored the customers who came in advance? How could anyone dare to approach the clerk if there were others who waited their turn longer?

And so, what was supposed to be a nice, representative building where people would spend a few short moments at the longest, turned into yet another massive queue-hall for those who didn't really have anything better to do with their time.

To a degree, my group wasn't an exception, with how we silently sat down at the most ordinary of the chairs, minding our own business while the crowd continued to create different currents as the newcomers went it to get their titles while those who waited the longest were slowly forming yet another queue, this time to the toilets.

Our trio just… sat there, as we patiently waited for the number on our ticket to get called out.

Chihiro, one of the city's up-and-coming elite; a cultivator of the ninth stage with a firm grip over the city's light industrial sector.

Claire, a fairy-like gentle beauty; striking everyone with her elegance as she opted to wear her reading glasses that she then used to immerse herself in the lecture of some profound, cultivation text.

And then me, Tim, pretty much a nobody who, as I could bet half my fortune for, people likely believed to be lucky to just so happened to sit by Claire's side.

There was another reason why Chihiro in particular gathered people's attention as they had nothing better to do than just sit around, observe others, and then waste time talking around. Even more so than a man of his caliber would, in fact.

As I've learned just before we came here, he belonged to not as much as a faction but more of a simple group of the city's rich and powerful that opted out of politics, focusing on their own business rather than trying to dabble in this cesspool of scheming, fraud, and corruption.

"With a special invitation…" a secretary walked out of office number one in the hall, "number fifty-seven, please, come in!" she called out after taking a quick look at her clipboard.

"That's us," Chihiro patted down at his knees and stood up from his seat, quickly followed by Claire… and me.

Several gasps moved across the room as the smarter members of the crowd instantly connected the dots.

"Let's go."

Following Chihiro's command, we walked ahead before getting inside the office. And the very moment the doors closed…

The hall erupted in whispers, gasps, and all sorts of other noises humans would make when excited.

'I bet there will be a dozen of articles all over the tea-sharing newsletters in an hour or less,' I thought, unconsciously allowing a grim look to appear on my face as I walked in while thinking of the unsavory clout I was now extremely likely to bask in.

To the other party that already waited in the room, however, their interpretation of my face likely provided results much different from reality.

"Tim…"

Ignoring the big fish in the room like no politician would, Clayton looked up to my face with a slightly confused expression all over his own.

He looked as if he couldn't make up his mind how to face… or how to even feel about seeing me.

Before anyone could take advantage of this moment of vulnerability, my uncle shook his head and cleared his thoughts before reaffirming a proper, serious look on his face as he looked right at Chihiro's face.

"Welcome to the city's office," Clayton said… yet, rather than facing Chihiro as he did, he made sure to look right back to my face before opening his mouth. "The emergency, what is it?"

Clayton didn't waste even a single moment of his time, instantly addressing the metaphorical elephant in the room while outright ignoring the actual social elephant that was literally in the room with him.

"An Oppenheimer-level one," I revealed without hesitation while nonchalantly grabbing the nearest set and sitting down, not even waiting for Chihiro to do it first as the most senior of our group. "Without speaking too many details, we have a blueprint for an extremely simple-to-build nuclear device.

And while it's not exactly a bomb per se, it's going to change the world in ways none of us is prepared for."

Despite Chihiro greatly outranking me here, I was the starting lead of the meeting. He was there to come in when the general talk would progress to the stage of talking details when ideas would be replaced by the matter of allocating money, manpower, and resources.

For now, however, the room was mine.

"Even if you say it…" Clayton murmured, taken aback by my statement.

This clearly wasn't what he expected this meeting to be about. Yet, like the true politician he was, it took him just an instant to recollect himself and lean over the table while focusing his eyes on my face.

"But let's say you spoke truth and only truth, then…"

Clayton leaned his head over his shoulder.

"What is it that you came here for?"

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