Morning in Liyue Harbor had the energy of a market about to burst: lantern sellers polishing their wares, cart wheels squeaking, and a dozen different smells debating which was the most appetizing. Takumi moved through it all in borrowed clothes that fit better than his old ones, the Geo Vision tucked discreetly at his hip. He felt more settled than a week ago — not calm, but less likely to be eaten by hilichurls today.
He'd barely finished a modest breakfast at Wanmin when Keqing practically collared him.
"Takumi, come. We need to recruit workers. Now." Her tone contained no question and very little sympathy.
Takumi allowed himself to be dragged, the harbor passing in a blur as Keqing marched him toward the General Affairs Department. She moved with the efficiency of someone who could make mountains file the paperwork they owed her.
Inside, the familiar map of Liyue dominated the wall, pins and notes already peppering Guili Plains. Ganyu stood by the table, calm and exact, as if the map itself had to be reassured it would be handled with care.
"Good," Keqing said. "We'll begin with a road and the pilot micro-workshop cluster. This is the planning session. No theatrics."
Takumi grinned. "I can do boring."
Ganyu gave him a small smile. "You said cement roads last night."
"I did," Takumi said, leaning over the map. "A direct, cement-surfaced path from the southern dock to the chosen site in Guili Plains. Durable, low-maintenance, cuts travel time and freight costs. It's our first visible win."
Keqing snapped a charcoal pencil and sketched a straight line. "How wide?"
"For starters, four meters. Enough for carts, occasional mule traffic, and a future mechanized transport lane. Reinforced edges, gentle gradient. We'll test a 1.5-kilometer segment."
Ganyu nodded and took notes with the tenderness of someone cataloguing small miracles. "And the micro-workshops?"
"Three units to begin," Takumi said. "One for basic metalwork and tool forging, one for agricultural tool fabrication, one for food processing prototypes. Each with a small attached training area. Staff of roughly eighteen per unit at startup."
Keqing raised an eyebrow. "Manpower sources?"
Takumi shrugged. "Harbor craftsmen, apprentices from Qingce and nearby villages, and recruits from the Adventurers' Guild for masonry and material gathering. We'll create incentive contracts so they earn shares of output early on."
Ganyu's eyes were steady. "You'll require official recruitment authority."
Keqing's reply was sharp. "Which you'll get. I'll issue permits and coordinate with the Magistrates and Qianyun militia to ensure lawfulness and to discourage opportunists."
A knock sounded, and Baiwen entered with a slim folder. "Lady Ningguang has authorized the first tranche of funds and issued permits for recruitment. The Qianyan Army has been asked to secure kiln and storage locations for the cement trials."
Takumi's teeth found his lower lip. The system — calm as ever — updated only in his private HUD.
[SYSTEM — PRIVATE]
Objective: Deploy Road Segment and 3 Micro-Workshops.
Materials (initial): Timber 300, Iron 120, Clay 600, Lime 800, Charcoal 200 units.
Manpower: 54 (18 per workshop) + 20 road workers.
Budget: Initial available (Ningguang personal): 5,000,000 Mora (restricted). Qixing tranche previously noted: 30,000 Mora (conditional).
Recommendation: Begin peripheral procurement to reduce Harbor ×1.2 multiplier. Recruit experienced kiln operators; offer emergency hazard pay.
Warning: Public curiosity high. Keep kiln trials low-profile until QC passes.
Takumi suppressed a laugh. Public curiosity high was a generous way to say—"people will freak out when they see what you do with slimes."
Keqing drew up a recruitment timeline. "We'll post open positions at the guild and announce training stipends. Ganyu, prepare a soft advisory to Euphemia at the Adventurers' Guild: targeted expeditions for rock-slime collection, properly contracted and recorded."
Ganyu inclined her head. "I will notate it."
Keqing shot a quick, half-sardonic glance at Takumi. "And you—prepare a simple pamphlet describing the wages, the schedule, and guarantees. Avoid mention of 'new age' rhetoric. People prefer clear Mora and stable food."
Takumi saluted, then winced. "I write a pamphlet. Got it. No slogans."
Recruitment: Comedy and Confusion
They posted the notices; the Adventurers' Guild posted the contracts; the harbor noticeboard bent under the weight of interest. The day of recruitment became a parade of characters: stout carpenters with soot on their faces, wide-eyed youths seeking work, nervous artisans suspicious of foreigners, and one old man who kept asking if he would need to fight a dragon.
Takumi manned a table with a stack of rough pamphlets and a ledger. Keqing hovered, efficient and implacable. Ganyu provided gentle reassurance. The Qianyun militia, politely stern, kept the crowd from devolving into chaos.
A young smith named Rong stepped forward confidently. "Sir, I can run a bellows and know kiln rhythm. I heard there's coin." He had a smudge of ore on his thumb and a grin that suggested he'd handle molten metal like conversation.
Takumi brightened. "Perfect. You'll be our lead smith for Workshop 1."
Rong's grin doubled.
Another applicant, a lanky woman named Mei, asked with practical suspicion, "Anything dangerous? I cannot lose a hand; my mother depends on my earnings."
"We'll provide safety gear and extra pay for hazard tasks," Takumi said. "And training—real, structured training so you're safer than before."
Mei glanced at Keqing, who answered with a curt nod. "We will ensure safety standards."
A baffled merchant man, overhearing the word "cement," demanded, "Do I get to keep my stall if you build roads?"
"You might gain more customers," Keqing replied. "And a better route for deliveries."
The man still looked unsure. "If it ruins my business I'm coming to Ningguang to complain."
Keqing's stare could have kneaded stone into art. The man retreated politely.
Amid the bustle, someone asked about slimes. A veteran Adventurer, scratched and cheerful, called out: "We'll gather slimes, but we're not slaying the place. Contracts first, share of profit after." Takumi quietly pocketed a signed initial contract. He felt the project take a small, real step forward.
The Qianyan Army & Rumors
Word spread faster than Takumi's neat pamphlets. By noon, rumors whipped through the harbor: secret cement factories, army guards shielding strange minerals, Ningguang hoarding wealth—half true, half embroidered like a festival costume.
Anxious merchant mothers muttered, old men argued about the Emperor's decision, and gossip girls imagined Takumi as a charming revolutionary. The city's hum picked at the edges of Takumi's confidence.
Keqing intercepted a messenger. "The Qianyan guard requests an update to avoid public alarm. They propose a discreet perimeter and regulated viewing times."
Takumi nodded. "Agree. We'll allow supervised visits if citizens want to observe later—after QC."
Ganyu added, "Transparency without spectacle."
Blue Print Module: The First Demonstration (Secret Tech)
Back in his small estate, Takumi pulled up the private blueprint UI. The system's interface glimmered for him alone.
[SYSTEM — BLUEPRINT DEEP MODE]
Function Explanation (Private):
Parse Sample: Provide sample object (tool/part) → system extracts functional units.
Generate Template: Convert extraction into a stepwise elemental-material plan that humans can follow.
Output: Human-readable blueprint (assembly steps), elemental-assisted prototype instruction (for Takumi), and a resource ledger.
Limitation: Elemental construction requires human implementation and raw materials. Complex machines require iterative samples and skilled labor input.
Security: All data is local to user. No external transmission. Keep secret.
Takumi prepared the first public prototype: a small mortar block using the experimental cement mix and a reinforced wooden form. He invited a cautious small group—Rong, Mei, two Adventurers, and a single Qianyun officer. No crowd, no fanfare.
He mixed the clay, measured lime, added the ground clinker he'd tested earlier, and carefully filled the mold. The kiln's heat, steady from charcoal supplemented by a managed pyroslime run authorized by the guild, baked the block. They cured it under shade for a week.
When Takumi removed the form seven days later and struck the block with a mallet, the sound held steady—clear, not brittle. Rong clapped. Mei beamed. The Qianyun officer made a note in a ledger that looked like a small victory.
[SYSTEM] rewarded another small notch.
[SYSTEM — PRIVATE]
Blueprint Module Efficiency +1
Public Risk Reduced: Minor
Recommendation: Scale to pilot road segment. Begin micro-workshop assembly.
Takumi exhaled. It wasn't a city yet. It wasn't a revolution. But a cured block sat on his table like a first line of a letter he had finally started to write.
Outside, voices rose and sank—a harbor's normal, noisy conversation. Inside, the small group shared tea, plans, and a modest laugh when Mei joked about how cement raising her worth to "not lose a hand."
Ganyu's soft voice floated from the doorway. "One block at a time."
Takumi smiled, feeling the truth of it like an ember warming his chest. Guili Plains and a new Liyue were still distant, but for the first time they felt reachable.
He tapped his Vision. The system hummed, private and polite.
[SYSTEM]
Next Goal: Complete 1.5 km road pilot within 60 days. Recruit 54 workers and secure peripheral material sourcing to reduce cost by ~30%.
Mora Audit Reminder: Keep ledgers visible for Ningguang's quarterly review.
Good luck, User.
Takumi rolled up his sleeves.
"One block at a time," he repeated aloud, and set to work.