100\% DROP RATE : Why is My Inventory Always so Full? Chapter 507 - Changes
Previously on 100\% DROP RATE : Why is My Inventory Always so Full?...
The devices proved too desirable, and their creation pace still relied significantly on skilled artisans and limited fabrication facilities. This had to change if Lucien planned to expand beyond a single region.
Repair stations were the second concern.
Because no matter how ingeniously crafted a tool was, there would always be someone who would sit on it, drop it into mud, accidentally strike it during sword practice, flood it with the wrong kind of power, or test its durability as an improvised throwing weapon.
It turned out that indeed, there were users foolish enough to break miraculous technology through sheer common incompetence.
Lucien wasn't even taken aback.
A third issue also surfaced.
They needed a more affordable tier.
The initial rollout had purposefully targeted those with wealth and institutional influence. That objective had been achieved. It cultivated prestige. It made the device a status symbol. It allowed larger factions to integrate it among themselves first.
However, for the network to truly become a part of everyday life, a more modest civilian version had to exist – something robust, simpler, and far more economical.
For the present moment, the price point was acceptable.
For the initial introduction, the sects and major organizations were indeed the correct demographic. They were the ones most likely to plot nefarious schemes, hoard advantages, and become addicted to rapid coordination first. Allowing them early access to the network meant the recorders would capture precisely the kind of correspondence Lucien eventually desired to monitor.
But in the long term, market trends were paramount.
If the prominent factions adopted the devices, ordinary people would inevitably desire them too. If merchant elders utilized them, then caravan workers would aspire to own them. If clan leaders employed them, then younger disciples would implore for them. Status alone would drive half the expansion.
Lucien convened Eirene, Elk, Seren, and Rurik following the initial wave of reports, finding them already engrossed in their next ambitious project.
They desired mass automation.
An efficient manufacturing line.
Rurik explained with palpable enthusiasm.
"If we continue to fabricate each unit as if it were a precious artisanal masterpiece, then we deserve to be surpassed by mediocrity," he stated. "This endeavor requires distinct tiers. Controlled modular assembly. Specialized components. Calibration processes that can be executed consistently at scale."
Eirene concurred.
"The current impediment is not the design phase," he remarked. "It is the production volume. We have overcome the challenge of possibility. Now, we must confront the challenge of societal integration."
Elk and Seren had proposed an even more ambitious plan.
They advocated for three distinct production divisions: one for civilian models, one for units designated for merchants and factions, and a third for exclusive, internally-focused architecture.
Lucien listened, then offered a slow smile.
"Once the primary construction is complete," he announced, "we shall allocate one of the smaller worlds to this initiative."
This statement brought a moment of stunned silence.
Then, Rurik's eyes widened.
"An entire world?"
"For mass production," Lucien confirmed. "Secured from external scrutiny. If Lootwell eventually reveals itself to the wider world, our production hub will not be situated where everyone can easily assess its capabilities."
Eirene nodded in agreement.
Elk appeared elated.
Seren leaned back, exhaling softly through his nose.
The proposal was instantly ratified.
While the future of production began to take shape, the existing devices continued their evolution.
The Crafting Division had not remained idle following the first deployment. They were already integrating enhancements into the subsequent batch.
Elk approached Lucien one day.
"My Lord, we ought to implement mandatory updates from the Origin Core."
Lucien blinked.
Then, he smiled.
She elaborated swiftly.
If the Origin Core already functioned as the central communication hub, it could also transmit updated function arrays and new permissions to compatible devices, provided they were within active network range. This meant the network could enhance itself without the need to physically retrieve every single unit.
Lucien gazed at her, impressed.
This was not merely practical.
It was ingenious.
Elk, emboldened by his reaction, continued.
"And while we are implementing this, we should also develop a broadcast capability. Not for private messages, but for public dissemination."
Lucien crossed his arms.
"Proceed."
She grinned.
"Global alerts. Regional warnings. Emergency notifications. Public advertisements. Market announcements. Wanted lists. Blacklists. If the Origin Core can transmit to everyone simultaneously or to specific regions, we transition from being mere communication providers to becoming a communication authority."
Lucien erupted into laughter.
This aligned perfectly with the direction his own thoughts had been heading.
Information control.
Narrative influence.
He could issue warnings to territories. Expose unscrupulous individuals. Blacklist thieves. Display the visages of wanted fugitives. Disseminate emergency alerts faster than unfounded rumors. And, if necessary, shape what the broader populace learned and from whom.
He gave his immediate approval for the modifications.
Subsequently, the recorders assumed an even greater significance.
They were already performing admirably.
The chambers designated for them had developed their own peculiar atmosphere. A quiet concentration enveloped the space, punctuated by shift changes, suspicious phrases being tagged and meticulously reviewed, and device logs being monitored with patient discipline.
Manual reading wasn't applied to every single message, nor did Lucien intend for the system to transform into a hub for bored voyeurs. However, flagged terms, unusual routing patterns, repeated coded coordination, anomalies in priority assignments, and any tampering events were all diligently passed through the recorders' attention.
They operated in shifts, acquiring precisely the skills they needed for such a task.
Parallel Thoughts. Photographic Memory. Pattern Recognition. Message Triage. Context Preservation.
Elias would occasionally oversee them, a fact that only served to make them terrifyingly competent.
A true crisis had yet to occur.
Still, the logs provided ample entertainment.
Merchants were caught plotting price manipulations. Sect elders were dispatching messages to their lovers that perhaps should never have been committed to written form. Faction disciples engaged in idiotic bragging. Buyers complained that the basic version of a device should have possessed more prestige in its casing. One particularly irate elder demanded to know why his device "forgot" how to function after he "merely opened it a little."
The recorders documented everything.
On occasion, a device would abruptly lose its connection.
This typically signified one of three possibilities.
It had been broken. It had been dismantled. Or, someone had attempted a clever maneuver, only to discover that the device did not appreciate such cleverness from the wrong individual.
Lucien felt a deep sense of satisfaction.
From there, he moved through the territory, checking on the others.
The dungeon remained stable.
This pleased him greatly.
In fact, it was more than stable.
The populace adored it.
The Ascension Spire had firmly integrated into the rhythm of life. Trainees entered bruised and emerged noisier. Squads debated floor strategy as if discussing profound personal philosophy. Fighters who once relied solely on raw power had begun to grasp the humiliating yet crucial importance of terrain, reading opponent behavior, timing retreats, and understanding species-specific dangers.
And the more astute individuals had already uncovered a deeper advantage.
The Monsterdex door.
When they studied first and then ascended, everything transformed.
Trainees started entering the Monsterdex domain to learn about monster habitat instincts, their preferred movement paths, threat indicators, pack behavior, common feints, and the structural weaknesses of various monsters. Subsequently, they applied this knowledge within the Spire, beginning to defeat monsters stronger than their current realms should have permitted.
This delighted them.
Because, for the very first time, knowledge itself was visibly translating into combat power in ways that even the less powerful fighters could perceive.
Lucien observed one such group achieve victory through meticulous preparation rather than sheer brute force, and he smiled.
Good.
That was the objective.
He also inspected the other doors.
Skillpedia remained bustling with activity. Magic Book had evolved into its own form of obsession. Monsterdex continued to produce more intelligent survivors.
Even the monsters were reaping benefits.
His pets, allied beasts, and the ancient beasts were now aggressively utilizing the learning systems.
They farmed skills. They compared results. They tested combinations. They shared discoveries. The ancient beasts had even begun assisting other monsters in farming more efficiently, which was precisely the kind of delightful chaos Lucien appreciated seeing within a living system.
Everything was flourishing.
The territory felt vibrantly alive.
He was merely awaiting the conclusion of the construction phase.
Once that milestone was reached, advancement across all fronts would become simpler, swifter, and pose a far greater danger to the outside world.
Lootwell was no longer in the process of becoming something; it already was something.
Now, it simply required time for the world to comprehend how very late it truly was.