Chapter 9: Reforging Order
Neuvillette stood in the somewhat crowded courtyard, his gaze sweeping calmly over the crowd before him. His presence alone seemed to carry an invisible weight, and the clamoring queue gradually fell silent.
"Please form two orderly lines." His voice was not loud, yet it reached every ear clearly. "One line to receive the holy relic, the other for the awakening ceremony."
A brief ripple of commotion stirred among the crowd, but under Neuvillette's steady watch, order was swiftly restored. Furina stared from the side, dumbfounded—before this, she'd had to shout herself hoarse just to get these people to listen even a little.
"You," Neuvillette turned to Furina, "please focus on producing the holy relic. I shall handle the rest."
"O-oh, right!" Furina nodded hastily and scrambled to start making cakes.
From somewhere, Neuvillette produced a rather exquisite notebook and a pen—he had no idea why there was a pen, and could only attribute it to some capability granted by Furina having summoned him into this world.
He began methodically recording the information of those who came seeking help.
"Name? Age? Place of residence? Purpose for coming here?" His questions were concise and clear, prompting even the nervous commoners to answer earnestly, almost despite themselves.
When someone tried to cut in line, Neuvillette needed only a single glance to send them meekly back to their spot. When two women began quarreling over their order, he quelled the dispute with a few sentences, presenting a solution that left neither party with anything left to argue.
As Furina produced cakes, she stole glances at Neuvillette's work efficiency. She hadn't expected him to be able to read the local script, but quickly chalked it up to the system's functions—after all, a transmigrator who couldn't read or write would probably run into quite a bit of trouble.
In barely half a shichen, the entire courtyard had become orderly and structured. Everyone waited patiently, a scene worlds apart from the chaos before.
"This is just... incredible..." Furina murmured under her breath, her cake-making speed unconsciously picking up.
At midday, the flow of people temporarily eased. Neuvillette closed his notebook and approached Furina, who was wiping sweat from her brow.
"According to this morning's statistics, a total of eighty-seven people received the holy relic, and twenty-three children underwent awakening tests. Of those, two were detected to possess faint soul power—one child at rank one, the other at rank three." His report was succinct and precise. "I suggest setting the awakening test times for Tuesday and Friday mornings. This will make overall coordination much easier. Additionally, they must be informed that only children aged six and above are eligible. Thirty-one of those children were under six... I can understand their desire to rise above their circumstances, but such attempts are meaningless."
Furina opened her mouth, momentarily at a loss for words. She'd been running the Church of the Water God for quite some time now, and her management style had always been... let's call it going with the flow. She'd never had data this precise or plans this structured.
"Uh, yeah, let's go with that..." she answered, feeling rather inadequate.
Neuvillette gave a slight nod before continuing. "Furthermore, regarding the production of the holy relic—I've observed that you currently need to make each one manually. Have you considered batch production to improve efficiency?"
Furina blinked. "Batch production? But my soul skill only makes one at a time..."
Neuvillette pondered for a moment. "Perhaps we could attempt to break down the production process. You handle the core step of infusing soul power, while the preparatory work beforehand and the distribution afterward can be managed by others. I'm not certain whether the quality would diminish, but all things considered, it shouldn't be much worse. Besides, efficiency would increase significantly. Given that your cakes are free, quantity can compensate for any minor variance in quality."
Just then, the three members of the Salon Solitaire came ambling back. Mademoiselle Chevaleyda's claws were dusted with flour, Lord Usher had a ladle coiled in his tentacles, and Madame Hevmayer floated alongside, supervising... something.
Neuvillette's gaze settled on them, and an idea seemed to take shape. "It appears we already have suitable assistants."
Over the following days, the operations of the Church of the Water God underwent a complete transformation. Under Neuvillette's arrangements, Mademoiselle Chevaleyda took charge of maintaining order, Lord Usher assisted with information registration, and Madame Hevmayer oversaw the storage and distribution of supplies.
What surprised Furina most was that Neuvillette even began teaching several literate believers basic record-keeping and statistical methods, gradually building up a rudimentary yet effective management system.
"Do we really need to be this... formal?" Furina couldn't help asking one day.
Neuvillette set down the ledger in his hands—yes, he'd even started bookkeeping—and answered calmly, "For any organization to develop and endure, a certain degree of order and regulation is required. If you wish for the Church of the Water God to truly help more people, this is a necessary step."
Furina looked around the courtyard at the orderly scene before her. The believers' faces no longer bore that old, familiar mixture of bewilderment and desperation, replaced instead by a new measure of reassurance and trust. She finally nodded.
"You're right. In that case..." A sly grin spread across her face. "I'll leave all these tedious matters to you, Monsieur Envoy!"
Neuvillette watched Furina scamper off in a flash, and let out a nearly imperceptible sigh—though the corner of his lips curved upward in a smile so faint it was almost invisible.
"Let us continue with the work."
The Chief Justice's management of an otherworldly organization was progressing steadily. And Furina happily discovered that she finally had time to explore the system shop she'd never had a moment to properly examine before—under the convenient pretext of taking a break, of course.