Chapter 378 - 367: The Wind Rises from the Tips of the Duckweed
Chapter 378: Chapter 367: The Wind Rises from the Tips of the Duckweed
[Your shop, "Weisren Heavy Industry," is now officially online.]
The notification on the system’s light screen flashed with a silver glow, but to Allen, it burned hotter than any flame.
Without a moment’s delay, he initiated an inter-planar communication link, connecting with Vera and Colin in Hub City simultaneously.
The light screen lit up, and Vera and Colin appeared at the same time.
"The shop is online."
Allen kept it brief. "World Commerce’s traffic portal is bigger than we anticipated. We’re already seeing some browsing data on the backend. Vera, get the customer service team in place immediately. They need to know all the scripts and contingency plans for potential questions inside and out, just like we drilled."
"Understood." Vera nodded. In the background, several young employees could be seen rapidly calibrating their information terminals. "The five-person customer service team has already completed three rounds of simulated training. They’re ready to go at a moment’s notice."
"Colin, hurry up and prepare the inventory."
Allen turned to the other screen. "The Spider Slayer II will be our traffic driver. The initial stock can’t be less than five thousand units. Five hundred for the Purgatory Platform, and two hundred each for the Peacekeeper and the Storm Falcon. The three Golem Factories in Cybertron and Hub City need to run dual production lines. Get the first batch of finished products into the warehouse as soon as possible."
Colin pushed up his glasses. "We’ve already calculated the production capacity. The Hub City factory can handle forty percent of the Spider Slayer’s production, while Cybertron will focus entirely on the core models. Seven days, no problem. But our funds will be tight."
"Don’t worry. The profits will solve that problem," Allen said, his tone leaving no room for doubt.
Before he cut the connection, Vera stopped him. "Allen, one more thing. Our supplementary education business might hit a bottleneck soon."
She pulled up a report, and a Star Map of the Wizarding World, densely marked with points of light, appeared on the screen.
"Within the White Wizard Council’s sphere of influence, there are a total of twenty-seven top-tier academies with stable student populations. We’ve already covered eleven, and we’re in negotiations with eight more. The rest are tough nuts to crack or are controlled by established powers. To expand further, our only option is to target the small and medium-sized academies in more remote Planes."
Vera’s finger traced over the dim points of light at the edge of the Star Map. "The problem is, pioneering a new academy requires a team led by at least one First-level Wizard, and our personnel are already stretched thin."
Allen gazed at the scattered points of light and fell silent for a moment.
He said, "If we don’t have enough people, we’ll supplement with our products. Use Teaching Golems to replace the repetitive work of some low-level instructors. A single First-level Wizard leading a team of Teaching Golems and Advanced Apprentices can cover a small Plane, even if we hire fewer instructors. Costs go down, volume goes up, and the total profit won’t be low."
"I’m already working on that solution." Vera was clearly prepared. "Glacier Academy on the Frost Wind Plane is the first pilot case. I sent Ryan Hart over. He’s a solid worker and very dependable. We’ll start with a one-year trial run and see what the returns look like."
’Ryan...’ Allen had a vague recollection of the name. He seemed to be an "ordinary" Wizard Vera had insisted on hiring despite opposition.
"Yes," Vera said. "I trust him."
---
「Frost Wind Plane」
This was a world perennially covered in ice and snow. Three moons of varying sizes hung in the sky, and an unrelenting, frigid wind swept up ice crystals, letting out a wail like a banshee’s scream.
And Glacier Academy was one of the three White Wizard Academies on this Plane, as well as the one with the most unique geographical location.
It was situated on the cliff’s edge of a massive glacier river.
Inside the New West branch office, it was as warm as spring. Temperature-regulating Runes kept the bone-chilling wind at bay.
Ryan Hart, the head of the New West Frostwind Branch, was reviewing the previous week’s operational data.
He was forty-two years old, a First-level Wizard whose Magic Power level and Spiritual Power were in the lower-middle range for his rank.
His talent was mediocre, making him the most common type of Wizard in the Wizarding World—like one of the silent, solid stones at the base of a pyramid.
Ten years ago, after struggling to graduate from his academy by passing New West’s Advanced Apprentice cram course, his life had fallen into a miserable cycle.
To earn the Magic Stones he needed for his cultivation, he had no choice but to take on dangerous missions with meager rewards.
Hunting Magical Beasts, escorting merchant caravans, prospecting for ore veins... The Magic Stones he earned were just enough to sustain his training, but he could never save up enough to purchase knowledge of Core Witchcraft.
Without new knowledge, his power couldn’t advance, so he could only continue accepting low-level missions.
He had seen too many Wizards like himself either die unexpectedly on a mission or exhaust their life force in a hopeless struggle, only to end up as an advisor to some kingdom in the Mortal World, dying while reminiscing about the power they once pursued.
Until six months ago, when he saw a job posting from New West that was so simple it was almost plain.
"...We don’t need a genius, just someone dependable."
In that moment, he felt like it was speaking directly to him.
As it turned out, his choice had been absolutely correct. The job was incredibly stable, and the pay was excellent.
The negotiations with Glacier Academy went surprisingly smoothly. The academy, with its long history and a founder rumored to have been a Morning Star Wizard, had fallen into a terrible state of decline in recent years.
Its teaching staff had a severe generational gap, its curriculum was hopelessly outdated, and the failure-to-advance rate among apprentices was as high as ninety percent.
When Ryan appeared before the Second-level Wizard who served as dean, armed with New West’s standardized teaching plan—hundreds of pages thick—along with a set of matching textbooks and two demonstration Teaching Golems, the man was overjoyed, exclaiming that New West had arrived far too late.
And so, the partnership was sealed in an instant.
"Director Ryan,"
His assistant Aisha’s voice broke him from his reverie. "Last week’s data is in. We had 1,470 new user inquiries and successfully sold courses to 310 people. Of those, ninety-three have already started asking about advanced courses."
His two assistants—the gentle and meticulous Aisha, and the taciturn but extremely reliable Griffin—had become his indispensable partners.
Although the branch, which they had painstakingly set up over half a month, was still rather crude, they had arranged every table, chair, and notice board with their own hands.
Ryan took the report, and a genuine smile spread across his face.
This growth rate was fifteen percent faster than he had projected.
At this rate, the branch would be profitable in just three months.
He calculated his performance bonus; it would be enough to buy his sister, who was studying at Bluebell Academy on another Plane, that Stardust Mana Ink she had been talking about for so long.
He even began to plan for the more distant future.
’Perhaps in less than two years, we can expand our business to the other two academies on the Frostwind Plane,’ he wrote in his work journal.
Night fell. His two assistants had already gone home to rest, leaving Ryan alone in the office.
He took a sheet of alchemical paper from his Storage Ring and began writing a letter to his sister.
Inter-planar communication was expensive, so the siblings were accustomed to using this ancient method of correspondence, sending letters with travelers via the Teleportation Star Gate every six months.
"Dearest Ella,
I hope this letter finds you well. The auroras on the Frostwind Plane are truly beautiful, like colorful silk ribbons floating in the sky. When I get the chance, I’ll definitely bring you here to see them.
My new job is so much better than I ever imagined. The salary is stable, the company provides subsidies for cultivation resources, and my colleagues are all very friendly. I finally don’t have to deal with those ignorant, foolish mortal Kings anymore. My training speed has increased quite a bit, and maybe in a hundred years or so, I might even have a hope of becoming a Second-level Wizard.
If you don’t want to participate in planar wars after you graduate, you could come work here too. I have an internal referral slot.
Here, I feel like a real Wizard, not a Mercenary scrambling for Magic Stones. Our boss is an incredible person. Even though I’ve never met him, I..."
He was halfway through the letter when the sound of the wind outside suddenly changed.
The tip of his pen froze.
The wind outside abruptly grew stronger, and the aurora flickered without warning, as if something had just streaked past.
He had long grown accustomed to the wind of the Frostwind Plane. It blew every night, whipping fine ice crystals against the window with a rustling sound, like white sand flowing through an hourglass.
But tonight was different.
Mixed in with the howl of the wind was a sharp, piercing shriek.
Ryan put down his pen and walked to the window. The aurora was still in the sky, a silent, hanging curtain of emerald light.
There was only the endless ice plain and the faint, distant outlines of icebergs. He couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary.
The faint sound had vanished as well.
’Maybe it was just my imagination.’
He returned to his desk, picked up his pen, and continued writing his letter.