100\% DROP RATE : Why is My Inventory Always so Full? Chapter 539 - Work

Lucien made his way back to Lootwell initially.

Vivian was left in the Celestial Dominion under the care of Virel and Aniel. Seraphine, alongside the Mirrorhorn Duants, also remained behind. Their critical role in the cure had earned profound gratitude, and the Celestials themselves were keen to provide them with proper accommodations.

A grand feast was scheduled to take place in a week, once the Dominion had achieved full stability and Virel and Aniel had regained sufficient strength to address their populace once more.

Lucien fully intended to be present for this celebration.

But before that—

Lootwell beckoned.

His absence had stretched on for too long.

Numerous critical decisions there still awaited his personal attention. Eirene had never once voiced a complaint, which only served to intensify his feelings of guilt.

And so, he departed.

The teleportation array returned him seamlessly to Lootwell. The instant he materialized within the central office, he recognized the validity of his premonition.

Eirene was indeed overwhelmed with work.

She managed it with elegance, certainly.

But overwhelmed, nonetheless.

The office had transformed into a veritable battleground, strewn with stacks of reports.

Elias was also present, overseeing a well-organized influx of tasks.

Several assistants diligently worked in the vicinity.

Kael, too, was there, contributing to the effort to alleviate the workload.

Eirene was the first to perceive Lucien's arrival.

Lifting her head, she met his gaze and offered a gentle, soft smile that conveyed a remarkable blend of relief and unwavering composure.

"Welcome home," she said.

The words were simple.

Yet, following the intense strain of the preceding week, the greeting resonated within Lucien more profoundly than he had anticipated.

A palpable warmth coursed through him almost instantaneously.

"I have returned," he replied.

Then, recognizing the futility of merely standing there, emotionally affected, while the office clearly struggled, he plunged into the work as if he had never been away.

He picked up the nearest pile of documents. Stamped the urgent ones. Categorized the straightforward ones. Discarded two redundant items without seeking prior approval. Affixed his signature to one contract draft. Rectified a perplexing error in a transport notation.

Within mere minutes, he had so seamlessly integrated into the established rhythm that the entire room seemed to exhale collectively.

• • •

Surprisingly, Lucien found the work itself to be quite fulfilling.

Eirene had meticulously organized everything. the documents had already been efficiently sorted into distinct operational streams. Matters pertaining to regional branch operations, internal territorial upkeep, external collaboration proposals, chapel expansion initiatives, market stability assessments, automaton interests, training division directives, shadow route updates, and specialized affairs were all managed along separate yet synchronized pathways.

As he signed another batch of confirmations, Lucien cast a sideways glance at Eirene.

He then returned his attention to the reports.

Among the initial significant undertakings was the establishment of the second branch.

Its location had already been definitively selected.

The Eareth Region, situated to the east of Maereth.

Kael and Lilith had conducted a thorough survey of the site. The logistical arrangements were deemed sound. The transit routes were considered acceptable. The prevailing political conditions were favorable enough to avoid unnecessary complications.

The selection of a suitable representative had also been carefully considered.

Murak. The formidable Bull Beastman.

After reviewing the pertinent notes, Lucien once again directed his gaze toward Eirene.

"Brother Murak will undoubtedly perform admirably," he stated.

"I determined him to be the most suitable candidate," she responded.

"And yet, you still awaited my approval."

Eirene finally looked at him then. Her expression was answer enough.

Lucien set the documents aside and articulated clearly, "Sister Eirene, you are not always required to await my decision. I have absolute trust in your judgment. Your pronouncements carry the same weight as mine."

Eirene's outward expression remained largely unchanged.

However, a discernible softening and deepening occurred within her gaze.

"I shall bear that in mind," she replied.

Lucien offered a single nod and gently pushed the approval document back toward her.

...

The diligent work persisted.

The reports themselves offered insightful reading material.

Lootwell maintained its steady equilibrium.

The chapel continued its expansion. Its quest-related systems remained actively engaged. An increasing number of both citizens and external individuals flowed through its sphere of influence, which, as invariably happened, funneled more divine energy into Lucien’s continuously accumulating reserves.

There were new applications for citizenship and several potential supplier candidates. Numerous names had already received Clara's endorsement and were merely awaiting Lucien’s formal confirmation.

His own people were also thriving.

The burgeoning economy of Lootwell was effectively nourishing its populace. Spirit crystals flowed abundantly. Physical refinement progressed noticeably. Energy reserves deepened considerably. A stable operational structure ensured that individuals no longer had to push themselves to the brink of exhaustion simply to subsist, while still harboring aspirations for cultivation.

The ten billion inhabitants within Lootwell could have easily devolved into a logistical quagmire if mismanaged. Instead, the divisional representatives had governed their people with such competence that life within the territory no longer felt like a perpetual crisis masquerading as civilization.

The elemental women also made an appearance in the reports.

This particular section brought a smile to his face.

Apparently, the individuals under their tutelage had been subjected to noticeably more rigorous training over the past week.

Lucien raised an eyebrow as he read this particular entry and leaned back slightly.

Perhaps they had missed him and chosen an outlet of intensity as an expression of their emotions.

He made a mental note to visit them at a later time.

Next, an assortment of reports caught his attention.

Automatons were increasingly integrated into patrols, logistics, maintenance, route monitoring, internal support, and even some carefully managed public interactions. Their precision was truly astounding. Once they received proper instructions, these automatons executed complex commands with nearly flawless accuracy.

As was anticipated, the external world expressed interest.

Various factions began to inquire openly about commissioning, purchasing, or licensing lesser forms of these automatons.

These mechanical beings did not demand the same constant, taxing direct oversight. They did not experience fatigue, voice complaints, become careless, or lose focus. They operated as informed, controlled instruments, demonstrating alarming efficiency.

It was only natural that people desired them.

Lucien gave his immediate approval, albeit with stringent limitations.

Lootwell’s internal automatons would maintain their superior status. The versions made available for sale would be capable but not overwhelmingly powerful. They would be reliable, yet not indispensable. Impressive, certainly, but never reaching the hidden benchmarks maintained by the territory itself.

Then, finding the situation amusing and well-earned, he bestowed a formal title upon Rurik then and there.

Grand Artificer of Autonomous Works.

Lucien glanced at the document one last time before nodding.

When Rurik later received the official title, he remained silent for several moments, gazing at the document. Finally, with obvious delight, he declared, "That is offensively dignified. I accept."

Lucien considered this a perfectly fitting response.

Once the sheer volume of paperwork subsided from a crisis to a mere large-scale inconvenience, Lucien turned his focus to practical matters.

He drafted the necessary soul contracts for the new collaborators and reviewed the final list of citizenship names.

He also personally inspected the market districts, visited the thresholds of the dungeons and the upper chamber maintenance areas, and checked the small worlds for any anomalies.

Everything was secure.

This confirmation put him in good spirits as he moved on.

At long last, he went to find the elemental women.

On his way, his thoughts returned to an earlier invitation.

Virel and Aniel had urged him to bring his friends to the Celestial Dominion feast once the week concluded and the recovery had fully stabilized.

Lucien had already begun compiling a mental guest list.

Eirene. The elemental women. Luke and Cienna. Cielius. Kael. And likely several others, depending on their availability and current responsibilities.

He had recently reviewed reports concerning Luke and Cienna; they were still adventuring outside the territory. Cielius was also traveling, his journeys having attained an almost legendary, quiet renown.

Upon reaching the Ascendance stage, the old man's youthful vigor had returned, though he stubbornly retained his long beard—a non-negotiable aspect of his appearance.

More significantly, he had commenced disseminating the Law of Nature into the world, yielding tangible results.

Lucien had read accounts of drought-stricken areas experiencing relief after Cielius passed through. Fields on the brink of famine had recovered, and skies had cleared over regions long suffering from imbalance. His influence allowed him to subtly guide weather patterns and life cycles with remarkable gentleness.

Midas, Augustus, and the others were also beginning to forge reputations for themselves—initially small, but steadily growing. They had navigated perilous situations on multiple occasions without even resorting to instant-return talismans.

That alone spoke volumes about their burgeoning capabilities.

Before long, Lucien arrived at the training grounds.

The elemental women were all present.

This collective presence partially explained the unusually severe training reports. When those four disciplined individuals gathered without any softening influences, the physical conditioning of others tended to become quite rigorous.

Marie was the first to notice his arrival. Then Kaia. Then Marina. And finally, Sylra.

The reaction was immediate.

All four of them lit up with smiles.

Marie eventually raised a hand and announced, "That's enough. Go recover."

The trainees dispersed with an almost suspiciously eager gratitude.

Several of them even cast thankful glances toward Lucien as they departed, as if he had personally descended to rescue them from the repercussions of their commanders' potent emotional states.

Lucien offered a slight smile and approached them.

Marie folded her arms, her gaze narrowing at him.

"Luc," she stated, "it appears you've forgotten about us."

Lucien let out a short laugh.

"Apologies. I became too occupied."

That statement should have sufficed.

Naturally, it did not.

Marina narrowed her eyes next.

"Too occupied," she echoed, her tone laced with suspicion. "Or too busy with that little girlfriend of yours?"

Lucien's eyes widened.

Then, before he could exercise better judgment, he responded, "She is... definitely not little."

Silence descended.

All four women stared at him.

Lucien instantly recognized his misstep.

Marina's mouth fell open.

Then, throwing her head back, she began to weep with theatrical despair.

"Uwaaa!" she wailed. "I'm not little either! Why don't you choose me?"

Simultaneously, her chest expanded dramatically.

Lucien stared for a brief moment, a realization dawning that it was, indeed, water. He nearly let out a laugh. This girl truly never let a nonsensical moment simply fade away. Noticing his amused expression, Marina's crying intensified. Lucien simply shook his head. Then, Kaia inquired with a much more subdued tone, "So, when will you be introducing her? Marie mentioned she saw you bring someone through the array." Sylra remained quiet beside them, yet the slight shift in her posture and the keen tilt of her ears conveyed her own silent question. Lucien blinked, the realization striking him. Ah. So that was the root of this situation. Marie, as one would expect, had disseminated the news with the efficiency of a seasoned military commander. "Soon," he responded. Then, perceiving that further jesting would only exacerbate matters, he added with greater sincerity, "In truth, I was away assisting in the recovery of the individuals who raised me within the small world. Through an almost unbelievable turn of events, they were actually alive here all along." This statement immediately brought a hush over all four of them. Lucien continued, his voice now softer, "They are awake now. A grand feast will be held in the Celestial Dominion once everything fully settles. I wish for the four of you to accompany me." The response was immediate; their eyes brightened. This was not solely due to the prospect of a respite from their duties and an opportunity to witness a place as fabled as the Celestial Dominion, although that was certainly a significant draw. More importantly, the invitation signified trust—a friendship extending into one of the most profound aspects of Lucien’s existence. Marie flashed a grin. "Well," she declared, "if it pertains to family matters, then naturally, we must be present." Kaia offered a smile. "I am eager to see the place." Sylra gave a small, quiet nod. Marina abruptly ceased her tears, proclaiming, "Then I forgive you. For the most part." Lucien chuckled. That was precisely the answer he had hoped for. And for the first time since his return to Lootwell, the heavy burden of the preceding week finally eased enough for him to experience something akin to simple anticipation.