in a time long forgotten by the sovereigns  in a land of unpredictable mystery surrounded  by grief pain and sorrow is this time and land i tell you a story of adventure and magic   of wonder a story you must read to enter

Fantasy is just a fantasy.
But a fantasia, can be anything.

The "Chance Encounter" cracking group had expanded from its original fifteen members to thirty, with a lot of upper classmen from the card making departing joining the fun. But so far, the work of cracking hadn't made any progress. No one had ever thought that a one-star fantasy card could so thoroughly stymie nearly all the aces in the group from the Eastern Wei Academy card making department. Some among them had even already gone through the mid-grade card master certification.
Still, not every student from the card making department was likely to buy those so-called 'beautiful woman' chits. And some of those scholars were among the most capable types, but after all in this world, there are those who avoid even the most basic oil and salt. 
At Eastern Wei Academy, one would often hear someone scoffing at that so called cracking group.
Zuo Tingyi was carefully examining the fantasy card in front of him. He had gotten the set from his younger sister two weeks ago, and for these two weeks, he had spent all of his spare time on the card play. He too was very curious about why it couldn't be cracked.
In any case, reality can be singularly ruthless, and until then he hadn't had even the slightest hint of any breakthrough. That was quite a blow to him, since as compared to the other students, he had always had the very best education. There were an astounding number of card masters under his family's influence, some of whom were far more accomplished than the so-called professors at Eastern Wei Academy. Under their influence, his accomplishment was far beyond that among any of his age peers.
The thing was, that given his status and family background, he had never had to pass any real-world tests.
Zuo Tingyi had a haughty temperament, which would easily get stirred up whenever he faced a setback.
And the card play set in front of him obviously met all those conditions.
Being so unexpectedly at his wits end for so long facing a set of one-star fantasy cards made him feel extremely unhappy. Clearly, one very important reason for that was that he didn't want to use any instruments to analyze it because his sister so utterly treasured the card-play set. His family had a card lab for his exclusive use, which was provided with considerably more advanced equipment than the school card-making lab. But using those instruments to analyze a card could easily damage it.
Even so, he had realized that if he didn't use any instruments, then he would never be able to penetrate the mysteries within.
The differences from normal cards in those cards' composition didn't go beyond five percent, and he believed that what distinguished the card play set was contained within that five percent.
The image of an innocent little girl floated into his mind, and his eyes shone with a wisp of tenderness. But Zuo Tingyi stifled a bitter smile, since he was afraid that his little sister would just have to play with herself for a little while. 
And so his look very quickly became resolute, and his expression resumed its icy cool. He picked up the card play on the desk and walked smartly into his own lab.
Zuo Tingyi's card making lab was probably over two hundred seventy square meters, and inside was every sort of precision instrument. There was usually no-one other than himself near there, especially not his little sister, and they never set foot in the lab.
He opened the fantasy card analytical apparatus, which was used exclusively to analyze fantasy cards, even though it was generally only used to analyze high-grade fantasy cards. Before that time, the lowest level card analyzed by it was a three-star fantasy card. That would be its first time to analyze a one-star fantasy card; moreover, it was probably the first time that type of equipment had ever been used to analyze such a low-level card.
Zuo Tingyi wasn't taking the card play lightly because of its extremely low level; on the contrary, he had to say that his attitude was the most rigorous it had ever been. It was the embodiment of extraordinary power for a one-star fantasy card to employ a composition that he didn't understand.
Sitting properly at the console, Zuo Tingyi opened the fantasy card analytical apparatus, which was about as tall as a person. At its core was a very high-grade specialized probe card. That sort of probe card went as high as five-stars on the scale, plus the very specialized nature of the probe which was very different from the ordinary probe cards. That was also why that piece of fantasy card analytical apparatus was so very expensive.
In all of the Heavenly Federation, there were only three firms who could manufacture fantasy card analytical apparatus like that, and all required a special order before you could make the purchase.
One after the other, red lights flashed, showing that the analyzer was in the process of probing through every bit of the composition of the fantasy card, piece by piece without stopping.
The results of the analysis would be displayed on the attached fantasy card monitor. 
All sorts of metrics were dancing endlessly on the screen in front of Zuo Tingyi. He was concentrating all his attention on those data flying by on it, whose meaning was baked into Zuo Tingyi's brain. From what he was seeing then, nothing out of the ordinary had appeared.
When the pulsing of the data started to slow down, Zuo Tingyi's heart beat became a little more urgent. From his experience, he knew that the analytical apparatus was about to probe into some structures that he didn't understand.
He didn't dare to blink, being afraid to miss some little detail. He felt his mouth going dry, and then quickly responded with some unmentionable phrases of self-mockery. It would be laughable to feel so nervous because of a one-star fantasy card. He powered down his ever more quickly beating heart, slowed his breathing, and stared at the screen.
Drip, drip, drip, and then suddenly an ear-piercing alarm went off.
Not good. Zuo Tingyi's expression changed as he went over in front of the analytical apparatus.
He was already too late. Right in front of him, coming from the fantasy card that had been put into the apparatus, were swirls of blue smoke. The fantasy card had obviously been destroyed, with its composition having undergone unrecoverable damage.
He suddenly smelled an utterly different sort of burning smell. Turning around, he saw a kind of white smoke billowing out from a crack in the analytical apparatus. 
Zuo Tingyi's face immediately darkened.
* * *
Looking at the pile of material in front of him, Chen Mu felt an involuntary rush of satisfaction. Could he not be satisfied? He'd spent the entire 500,000 Oudi to acquire those materials, throwing in all of the profits from the card play. He had returned once more to his normal penniless state.
Among the material was a diminutively small portion which was all material he had never dared to think about before. The price for this small measure of material would simply leave people speechless from what he knew, accounting for at least over 400,000 of the 500,000.
Chen Mu had his doubts that he could complete the twelve cards, given their degree of difficulty. But he had thrown himself into it with no turning back, and he knew that if he could resolve all of the issues involved in making the twelve cards, he would go way up the ladder of card making ability.


This is both a work of science fiction and an exploration of the meaning of life, love, literature and art. Brainpower is no longer the main ingredient for being human in this far distant future world.  Spirituality, physical balance, and diligence all come together as integrity for Chen Mu, the Card Apprentice.  The cards which Chen Mu masters in his own scrappy way, distill all the powers of the cosmos –  human and nonhuman –  into something that is not a book, not technology, and neither art nor magic, but is these and more.  Learn about these strange cards, which can embody everything you might imagine for the future of technology, but also a future beyond technology which promotes the best, and sometimes the worst, from mankind’s past.

Fantasy was comfortable and a way to escape the dread of everyday life. It was easier to think you were strong and powerful, than admitting that you were weak. It was so much easier to pretend that you were some sort of lone wolf warrior than a weak man, bruised and broken after so many failed ventures, trying to uselessly appease your own bruised and broken ego all the while.
That's the truth, isn't it.
Life is hard, and its painful to face that suffering head on. You need to be able to look away, to explain that suffering away, to belittle it, to pretend that it isn't there, just so you can justify your own inaction.
So why do we enjoy tragedy and sadness so much?
Why are you even here?
It can't be the world building considering its so shoddily done by all metrics, only really tossed in when the author remembers that she needs to explain herself. It can't be the characters. They're pretty much all author inserts and that's universally a bad thing.
If its the messaging and morality, then I'm afraid that there's a long way to go, and that really doesn't explain why you're already here, considering the best is yet to come.
I suppose that there's a mystery here, and a question of what's going to happen next, but its clearly not a good one, looking sorely at reader reception. Seriously, there's fucking no-one here, all sorts of people happy to take a look then do fucking nothing.
I suppose it is my own fault for being such a bad author, and for posting on this sort of site, but I got real tired of all these cheap plot device systems who act as the only motivator for characters who would do absolutely nothing without them. I got real tired of super powered heroes who simply bulldoze through all their problems learning nothing, gaining nothing and suffering nothing.
My characters may spend their entire screentime crying, but at least they're going somewhere. At least there's a journey for them to follow on their own and trials that they can fulfill without the handiness of pulling some power out of their ass.
But I suppose ego and pride is the only real reason that we really do things. We go out into the world under the delusion that we will be creating something, that we will be great, and get so hurt when we trip and fall, instead of sprint.
Everyone here wants to believe that they can sprint towards stardom, but not really. We are all stumbling and falling, and in all honesty, I'd prefer some useless cretin to at least laugh at me for all my cuts and bruises than this radio silence, than this ignorance of whether I am doing a good thing or not.
Was it the premise that was flawed, or was it the writing? Was it the style and presentation, or was it the plot? Was it the characters, or was it the spelling and grammar mistakes?
I don't know!
Tell me!
Otherwise, what am I supposed to do?!
Jasper opened his eyes to face the sun.
A man was sat at his bedside with his arms folded looking down at him.
He looked older to Jasper than he probably was, premature wrinkles and laughlines carving through his face. He snored softly in his chair, most of his face covered in a big, bushy beard, wrapped in at least two jumpers and with a blanket draped over him.
One of his eyes suddenly opened, before he closed it again, winking cheekily, while he was still snoring and a big grin spread across his face. He stretched his giant arms out over his head, giving a huge, bellowing exaggerated yawn, his azure blue eyes twinkling in the light.


They swirled like liquid and glimmered, the light catching, reflecting and fracturing all through them as if there were thousands of tiny mirrors inside them, eternally bouncing those light beams within them, to look eternally youthful.
"I see that you're awake, young man," he almost teased, as if he wasn't just caught faking both sleep and snores.


"So what's your name?" he asked, giving another cheeky grin, leaning forward, placing his head on his hands, elbows balanced on his knees.


"Jasper," was all that the man in question could reply, slightly taken aback and his chest aching, his heart twisting in his ribcage.


"Jasper, Jasper, Jasper. That's a good name. A nice name. What's your last name?" he asked again.
He smiled widely and kindly, and patiently.
A lot more patiently than Emmet, who seemed to always want to be perpetually bouncing off all the walls in excitement. There was a shrewd intelligence behind those eyes, who constantly flicked over Jasper's entire body, his gaze focussed onto Jasper's own wide, panicking eyes.
A last name?


What was a last name?


The point of first names was to be identifying, that was the point of Red_Two. He was the only Red_Two in the community, and he was expected to live his entire life there. What was the point of adding another name to identify an object when there was already a unique marker.


Did names not work like that here?


The existence of last names meant that the use of first names wasn't enough to identify individuals. 
Were names not used as codes for identification here as well?

Jasper knew that the culture around naming was not similar in Sýnnefa, with names given to honour the child themselves, as if names were a special gift bestowed upon them for them to treasure and that names were never changed from the day they were bestowed, with parents bestowing names with certain meanings to install certain qualities in their offspring.

A last name wasn't needed at the facility with Emmet, and all he wanted was to reject the systems of Gryaz. He wanted to no longer be seen as part of Gryaz, taking on any other name. 

He had never heard of a Sýnnefan called Jasper.

Considering the lack of a surname given to him, was there no need for them in the facility or did they all have their surnames as well, but were never stated.

There was Emmet. There was Johnstone. There was Alice. There was Richard. There was Mindy. There was Charlie.

There were last names.
Doctor Johnstone was the exception in that list. Her name required more enunciation than the others, and the fact that she was never addressed in any other way in front of him, her patient, and the fact that all the other's had their names transplanted in blatantly informal situations. She was his doctor, and the Hippocratic Oath required her to maintain professionality in the face of her patients.
The use of first names in those situations was an indicator to a more relaxed environment, the removal of professionalism, but she had maintained it due to her career, thus the need to use her last name in the stead of her first name, always addressed as Doctor Johnstone. 
Last names did exist at the facility.

And he had just ruined her career. He had robbed her of so many opportunities to relax around others and have fun. He had taken that from her, even before he doomed her. 

Jasper closed his eyes, and breathed.

Five seconds in, and five seconds out.

If last names existed, then why hadn't Emmet given him a last name?

If first names were not adequate to fully identify an individual, it could only mean that several individuals had the same first name. So what basis was the last name given on?

Was it hereditary, like his name was to a degree, his dead, still-born sister being denoted Red_One, as a mark that she existed, and her place in the family, denoting age and relation.

Or were last names given in relation to the place of birth, or where one's community was located?

Johnstone had a fair chance of being created in this way, possibly from a mountainous community, though Jasper had no clue where the 'John' portion originated from. It seemed more likely to be hereditary in light of the failure. If a name was to denote location, it needed to be descriptive, unless the 'John' portion was to further specify where the 'Stone' location was, maybe due to several communities in similar geographical areas.

Maybe he was looking too much into this?

Jasper did not know how much time he had just spent speculating on the existence of last names in different time periods.

They did not matter. Last names existed in this time period, and any indication that he did not have one would alienate him from the man in front of him, somebody whom he currently depended upon in his helpless state.

Jasper regretted not learning as much he possibly could have, during his time with Emmet. His cowardice, terrible attitude, and encompassing desire to show himself as harmless had harmed him, and everyone around him to a degree that they may never recover from.
He needed a last name.

When Red_Two stole the most coveted possession of the oppressive Sýnnefa empire, a time machine, in his final bid for revenge, he did not anticipate falling for the kindest inventor to ever exist, in the past, back when Sýnnefa was just a simple island colony. Will he carry out his revenge and cast away the only person who had ever shown him kindness, or will he give everything up for this man, who seems to have the entire ocean in his eyes?

And what can he make of the woman who carries a weapon, rumoured to end entire civilisations, and the fact that she knows everything about him, his loved ones, and the time machine?

The story will be split up into three parts total, in the order of beginning, end, and middle at this current date (17/6/2020).

It is in British English and such does contain the British slang and words not found in American English, for example, 'car boot' instead of 'car trunk'. For the slang, all you need is a quick search.

(17/6/2020)
I've honestly started posting fun history facts in the author's notes segment for the curious ones, considering so much of this is inspired by historical precedent.
Each chapter title does reference something historical in the vein of the Classics. You are free to research them as you please, learn more and see if there's any foreshadowing or not.

Thank you for reading and have a nice day!

"Guys, I already got this month's metrics and you know what? You are a disappointment!"

Vee shouts as she slammed her hands on her desk that made her agents jumped on their feet. Most of them just looked down on their feet like a sad puppy.

"I may be kidding and joking all the time but that doesn't mean you have a reason to slack off! Because I hate slackers!" Vee shouted. Then she quickly glanced at Becky who is sitting lazily on her rolling chair while listening to Vee's speech to her agents.

"No offense, Becks." Vee informed her. Switching off her anger mood for a moment.

Becky just smiled with her eyes half-closed." Don't worry. I get that a lot."

Vee switched back her attention to her team, returning to her angry mode." I'm not sure if I'm just unlucky to have agents like you. Maybe I should've not trusted my instincts but instead I should've just gone through with that boring trial and error." Vee shook her head in disbelief then glances back at the team." Do you want that to happen?"

Some of the agents shook their heads with fear on their faces.

"Do you want me to terminate you ASAP after seeing you failing your metrics consecutively for a month?!" Vee asked as she snapped her fingers as a demonstration to her statement. The agents shook their heads with fear once more.

"Then do your job properly! Whenever I listen to your calls you guys ended up saying different things that is out of the context! What happened to the behaviors that I implemented to you? Did you pooped it?" Some of the agents stare at each other because of Vee's last statement while Paolo shook his head with fear.

"You guys have a month. Don't embarrass me with your shitty metrics," Vee said as she pointed up her index finger." Now go away!"

The agents returned quickly and quietly to their seats as Vee sat down to her seat and buried her face with her palms because of frustration.

"Someone's upset today." Barry appeared at Vee's back again.

"Go away." Vee said with an angry expression on her face as she starts typing on her computer.

Barry's small grin disappeared then became quiet for a few seconds."Have you tasted the new coffee shop around the corner?"

Vee immediately turned off her computer's screen then abruptly stood up." Let's go," she said then she walked passed at Barry who is confused and surprised with Vee's sudden change of mood. He just shrugged the thought of it and followed her on the way outside.

In Cris situation, she finally received a call after a few minutes of avail." Thank you for calling Bolt. This is Maricris. How may I help?"

"Hello dear," an old woman's voice said on the other line." Can you teach me how to send a picture?" The old woman said with slow-paced delivery of words. Cris puts her palm on her face because she knew where this call is going.

"I'm sorry to hear that you're having a hard time sending a picture but nothing to worry! I'll be happy to—"

"My daughter is miles away from here and I want to show her a picture of me of how Am I doin' but I can't...." the old woman interrupted her while stuttering with her words." I don't know what to click here. Can you help me?"

Cris pressed the mute button so she can have a moment of sighing deeply then afterwards, she pressed it again and returned to her professional self."Sure. I'd be happy to assist you. May I have your name please?"

"My name? My name is—"the old woman's voice faded. Cris pressed the pad on her ears so that she can hear some of the customer's voice but nothing is coming out from her line. She increased the volume of her Alaya which appears to be on it's maximum volume already.

"Hello? Are you still there?" Cris asked the customer. She just stared at a blank space on CLEAR and realized that she still doesn't have an account opened from this customer. She decided to say the ghost spiel so that she can move on to the next call.

"I'm so sorry but I can't hear anything from your end however I'll be forcing to end this call. Thank you for calling Bolt and have a nice day," then she quickly dropped the call. 

It's three minutes avail and Cris is just staring blankly on the screen. Then she realized that the customer may have called somebody else later that is not going to help her at all. And she's afraid that Vee is going to caught her and scold her regarding with ghost calls.

Cris pulled up the call history in Alaya and found the recent number that she received. She dialed it and it started ringing. She exhaled and kinda wished that the customer will not answer the call and just forget about her instead. But the customer answered it.

"Oh! Thank goodness you called back. I was so worried what happened when you disappeared. I thought I have to go through with the machine again," the old woman said happily. Cris is now regretting for calling her back.

"I'm glad that I was able to get a hold of you," Cris said with a pleasant voice.

"Yes. I-I think the I accidentally clicked something from this phone that's why it dropped."

"Can I have your name please?"

"Martha Ashore," she answered slowly.

"Spell Ashore?" Cris asked since she's confused with the customer's pronunciation earlier.

"A as in apple. S as in sun. H as in honey. O as in octopus. S as in—wait. What letter Am I?" The customer stopped then Cris smacked her face with her own hand because of frustration.

"It's okay now Martha. I already got it right." Cris just said going back to her pleasant tone of voice and tried figuring out the surname ashore instead.

"Can I also have your phone number, please?" 

The customer gave her the landline number instead of her Bolt phone number. Cris sighed deeply.

"Martha, that's your telephone or landline. I meant, your phone number that you're calling about." Cris maintained her professinal voice but it sounded a bit irritated. 

"I'm sorry sweetie, what is it?" The old woman asked. Cris threw her headset on her desk and grunted with frustration. After a few seconds, she sighed deeply to make herself relax then went back to her customer. 

"Hello?" Martha said on the other line.

"Yes Martha. I'm here," Cris said, going back to her pleasant voice.

"Oh! I thought you were gone again," the customer chuckled.

"Martha, can I have the phone number that you're calling about, please?" Cris clearly spoken this time and her pace became slower than before.

"Oh! You mean the phone number of my phone?"

"Yes Martha. The phone that you're going to use for sending the picture," Cris said in a slow pace.

"I see. It's—" Then she finally gave the right phone number and Cris finally opens the account. Cris sighed in relief then she glanced at her Alaya and saw that she's been 10 minutes with Martha now.

"Can I also have your passcode please?"

"Um...I have a passcode?"

Because of frustration, Cris pressed mute on the Alaya, stood up then shouted. The agents around her got her attention and have these confused look on their faces. Cris didn't mind her workmates' stares and just sat down to her chair.

"Yes, Martha. You have," Cris said in a pleasant tone if voice. 

"Oh. You see, I forgot what it is," the customer said. Cris sighed again after pressing the mute button.

"Hello?" Martha asked.

"Yes Martha," Cris said as she went back to her professional self again." I'm going to send you a text message of your passcode. Please check your device."

"Oh. Okay." Then Cris sent the passcode to the customer. Martha put the telephone down and Cris waited for almost five minutes.

"Hey," Emily said, getting Cris' attention." You alright there?"

"Yep. Long call," Cris shortly said. Emily chuckled then left her lying on her desk.

I should've not called her back! Cris thought.

In a BPO World where TL Vee and her Agents tells their stories of how and why did they become of who they are now.

Clear User focus( why do we create this product?)
Clear Target Audience(For whom we're doing it)
Clear Business Objective?
 Organised User flow and Information Architecture 
Clear Success Metrics

\
\\
...

Customers expect good customer service.  Customers are loyal who keep coming

Key Performance Metrics:

--->Customer Satisfaction - Win/Win
---> Resolution - Resolve customer issue/ Call back of another issue not the same issue
---> Handle Time - Average Handling Time

*No false information
*Exceptional customer relationship
*Good customer service

Key Points: Active Listening

*Hear - just involve listening; intention to respond, but do not understand what the person is asking.

*Listen - concentrate on what you hear, understand what the person is asking

Not Listening:
- not feeling used
- thinking of personal problem
- doing something else while talking
- using cellphones
- distraction 
- talking not important topic
- sleepy
- something bothering
- something bother in a while
- hungry
- noisy surrounding
- don't want to talk to the person
- don't like the topic

*Distraction - physical thing that makes you not to listen

*Distortion - emotional thing that makes you not to listen.

Note: 
1. Relax, clear mind, and comprehend mind to get rid of any distraction or distortion.
2. Listen to the whole idea to solve the problem
3. Speed up the point of context
4. Be flexible
5. Stay calm
6. Take notes (don't miss the info given)
7. Listen for the intention ( to be able to gather accurate resolution)


\
\\
...
-END-

Lists of thoughts... Random thoughts... (considered as communion to God Almighty!)

"We can do that if you really can't stand it, you know..." Aya said, with a tone that made her seem out of breath. Then, she added, "I mean, your scent is already smeared all over my body... but, if you want me to transform back to my original form, we'll have to find a secluded spot...YEOW!" Her forehead was flicked by Baiyi.
'What's with that… that seemingly intimate description? What did you say? I can... what? What exactly can a soul armature do to you, anyway? Original form? As if I want anything to do with it! I'm not even a follower of certain a religion that promises heaven filled with hour is, so do you think I would be that kinky?' Baiyi pondered furiously in his heart. He could not help but acknowledge that the mindset of the dragonkind was indeed quite different from that of humans. 'How old is Aya again? She is already having such thoughts before being of suitable age for marriage…'
After Baiyi delivered a lecture about propriety to Aya, while chiding her on the need to maintain a purer mind, the little dragon-lady began to tail Baiyi meekly, looking like a daughter-in-law who had just been scolded. Aya held Mordred's hand, and they all crossed the road to go and meet her new students.
As soon as the students saw her, they looked like they were facing off against their ultimate arch-nemesis! The owl transformed into a complete beast-shaped armor set, and this armor covered the great fox; this tactic was something Sunny the owl had learned while doing its homework. The sunflower clambered onto the great fox's head and settled into the strategically designed sunken spot on its helmet, then the great fox bared its fangs and frightful claws, forming an intimidating stance.
'Is this owl's true form really not some sort of slime? How can he just transform into… anything?'
Nota also made a move. She held the witch's hat on her head and began to climb up the Kitsune's back laboriously... This stance was their 'four-in-one' winning strategy, which they firmly believed would be the primary factor for their success; their level of naivety was equivalent to the nine-stage elimination strategy used by the Imperial Japanese forces in WWII[1].
Modred leaped onto the Kitsune's back, and her gaze fell on the cute Nota. She proceeded to hold Nota's hand graciously.
"You're so cute! I'm Mordred. What about you?" Mordred initiated warmly.
"m—My name is n—Nota..." Nota shuddered in pure terror; her entire body was trembling uncontrollably.
"Such an adorable name!" Mordred's voice rang out with pure, innocent laughter. She whipped out the whale plushie and stuffed it between Nota's arms, instead.
"This is what pap— oh, no... this is what Master bought for me earlier! Isn't it cute? Mama always said that good things have to be shared, so now that we're buddies, I'll lend it to you for a bit!"
"tha—Thank y—you..." Nota's voice was as audible as a mosquito's.
"Let's get along nicely, everybody!" Mordred bared her two fangs and came forward to give Nota a welcoming embrace, giving her soft, fluffy cheeks a gentle caress.
'Hmm.. this strategy seemed like the exact same one used on little Mia, isn't it?' Baiyi pondered silently as he watched the entire scene unfold before his eyes, noticing how insolently unresponsive the great fox and the rest were.
'How bloody embarrassing! At least make your own exit, dammit!'
After that, Baiyi decided to handover the situation to Aya, giving her the stage to get more accustomed to the new students and the environment. Getting herself acquainted with the students and earning their acceptance was her own duty. Baiyi could not help her out there, and there was nothing he could say or do to facilitate the process. Everything will be down to Aya's personal charm.
Pondering about other things, Baiyi went to his underground laboratory. He had decided to spend the afternoon drafting out the details of three techniques, which he planned to patent through the Sorcerers' Association.
According to his plans for the future, these three techniques — Flame Pole, Flash bomb, and Claw — would not only serve as his introductory pieces to the academic world because he also had personal plans for them. With the exception of the Flame Pole, whose name the Archmage had ripped off from something else, the other two techniques were not appropriate for one-on-one battles. The flash bombs were more suitable for small-scale confrontations and ambushes, especially those held indoors. The new and improved Claw was more suitable for military-scale battles involving large armies, and the Steppe Barbarians, who were exceptionally fond in using projectile attacks upon horseback, found it especially effective.
He already had plans to put these techniques up for sale. Besides these three, there were some modified enchantments, such as the Ultimate Slow-Down Enchantment, Attack Speed-Up, Defense Shield, and more — all of which where within the range of militia magic — that he could patent.
These enchantments were to be made into scrolls that would be sold to the Steppe Barbarians. The Steppe Barbarians were currently in the midst of a war, and they lacked sorcerers; shamans were not reliable, at all. Besides transforming into dancing wolves and getting killed, shamans were useless; after all, they were not druids, who had the utmost understanding of the world's elements. Hence, Baiyi's toys could definitely help either side win the war. He was not worried about being able to sell them, and he was pretty sure that the profit would be magnanimous. This was, by far, the best platform to put them up for sale.
As of now, news of the deal in Steppe had still not been made public. Although there were some who knew about it, they were extremely tight-lipped about it, without leaking a single wisp of it out. There were no rumors of external influences, meddling parties, or any sign of huge players coming into the scene. Those who were watching simply watched Undine and her gang make money out of this.
Seeing how easily they let Undine and her friends off on such a profitable deal made Baiyi wondered if a sinister and powerful force had set its eye on the area, so everyone else was leaving it alone. However, Bayi naturally had to act fast so that he could milk a huge sum of profit through Undine's vast web of contacts before the unknown force began to show its hand.
"Whew, hopefully the examination goes as smoothly as this," Baiyi murmured to himself, with a slightly muffled tone of voice. He had quite the good impression of the Sorcerer's Association, for now. In fact, he was sort-of a sorcerer himself, so naturally, he hoped that there will be no hiccups along the way. Since Grace Day was fast approaching, he had to hasten his steps.
After three days, Baiyi was almost done preparing the items for his mini excursion. Additionally, a letter from the Sorcerer's Association arrived before his doorstep that same day. It was an official invitation that required him to report himself for the Powel Level Examination the next day. This level of efficiency did not fail Baiyi's expectations, at all.
Baiyi proceeded to brief Aya and the rest of his students on his plan for the upcoming days. As he spoke, he noticed Mordred lying on top of the great, with the owl in her embrace, and all three were playing together. After three days of getting to know each other, the students seemed to have grown accustomed to Aya's presence, seeing as they now knew that they would not be eaten up; however, there was the possibility that this development may have only come about because the students feared the dragonkind. In the end, the fact that the students were no longer trembling in fear at the sight of Aya was a good sign. The fact that they could now maintain a level of contact, for educational purposes, made everything even better. Hence, closed-room-lessons and group sessions would no longer be a problem, and under Aya's tutelage, the students had begun to learn more about teamwork and its significance.
However, their relationship was still pretty awkward in private. Aya could not think of a better way to improve that for now, so she only chose to maintain the current level of interaction, while considering better methods to enhance it.
The next morning, Baiyi prepared to leave the house.
"That's about it, I think. I shall leave now."
"Have a safe journey." Aya had donned an apron and was standing against the doorway, looking like a dutiful wife who was sending her husband off for work.
The culinary lessons had also already begun early that morning. Attie and Nota were in the kitchen, putting their best efforts into their work. This was the third day of their lessons. Attie was a natural, but Nota... she kept forgetting where she placed the pepper…
Baiyi gave a curt nod and asked, "According to the updates on their progress which you gave me earlier, the great fox and the rest will be learning combat material today, right?"
"Actually, they cannot use typical combat moves that are catered for humans because they are naturally instilled with the best abilities and reflexes. If it was up to me, I'll just teach them a few simple aura exercises" Aya replied. "I did think of teaching them dragon's aura, but I'm not sure if they'll be able to pick it up..."
'My dear Aya, do you really think that the great fox and the owl could learn dragon's breath?' Baiyi mused, humored slightly by her thoughts. 'But whatever, she could teach them for the fun of it.'
Baiyi went on his way after that and reached the headquarters of the Sorcerer's Association at about ten in the morning. When he arrived at the designated level, via the hover disc, he bumped into two candidates, who had also signed up for the Examination, outside the practice arena — an old man and a young lad. Looking at the purple insignia on their chests, Baiyi could tell that they were Master level, so it was obvious to him that they were here to sit for the Legendary-level examination.
"Oh? A soul armature?" said the lad — who looked to be in his twenties — when he set eyes on Baiyi. The lad looked on curiously and noticed a similar purple badge on Baiyi's chest armor.
"Why would a soul armature attend a Power Level Examination? Can soul armatures still increase their powers?" The lad questioned in a low mumble.
Hearing the lad's words, the old man also tossed a gaze in Baiyi's direction, with a look of interest on his face.
Logically speaking, after soul armatures got sorted into a particular Power Level, they would not attend Power Level Examinations anymore. There were two reasons for this: first, it was too troublesome; second, after their summoning, the powers that soul armatures wielded decreased significantly, so there was no need to go through another Power Level Examination just to verify that.
Baiyi sensed their gazes and returned the favor by focusing his senses on the two. They both had legendary-level energy. The old man, who looked even older than Baiyi, was really nothing to shout about; it was the lad who Baiyi found interesting. He seemed to be as young as he looked; his body emitted an aura of youth and vitality.
'A twenty-year-old legendary-level? This individual can already be considered a genius!' The lad was dressed in common, shabby robes. One look at the staff in his grasp, and one could tell that it was a cheap item. The lad's financial situation must be pretty bad, so he probably was not one of those geniuses from a noble family.
This was quite remarkable. A genius lad with a common, mediocre background would have a great attitude and upbringing, unlike those rich geniuses who were born with unlimited benefits and resources at their disposal. With the exception of his plain looks and mediocre appearance, the lad was fit to be the protagonist of a typical fantasy storyline.
"How do you do, everybody? My name is Hope," Baiyi greeted politely, toning down his usual pompous attitude.
"Hope...?" The Elder lapsed into a moment's hesitation, during which his expression shifted from confusion to realization. "Are you really… Hope?" Obviously, he must have heard those stories from the Church.
The genius lad, however, maintained a normal reaction.
"Old man, is he very famous?" The lad turned to the Elder and asked nonchalantly.
'Mm? This can't be it now, can it? Using the metrics on Earth, I should be somewhat of an internet celebrity by now, right? You're telling me this lad has never heard of me?' Baiyi mulled pensively.
[1] This was referring to the combat strategy coined by the Imperial Japanese forces during World War II. It will not be elaborated here fully, but to sum it up, it was an assumption based-strategy, making the American troops seem like actors in a play. Everybody knew what happened in the end; it was a classic example of a backfired strategy.


Imagine being forced to live, after death, as incorporeal bodies trapped in a vast space of nothingness for thousands of years, with nothing to do but exchanging past memories with other cohabitants (read: weirdos).  Everybody wanted out, but there was no way to leave the Void... 
Until one day, a young man was finally summoned, as a powerful but reluctant mentor, by a bubbly and motivated but completely naive young girl. Baiyi, finally out of the Void, was the only one who could save all of the other 32 souls from their prison and his summoner might just be The Key to their freedom.
However, Baiyi had to use the techniques and abilities the other souls had taught him throughout the years, and together with his own extensive knowledge of anime and game tropes from his shady and dangerous past as an otaku, to face the biggest challenge of them all: training the clumsy young girl he was forced to partner up with… into a competent sorcerer!

While Ves got to know Raella better, Melkor remained an enigma. Even though he suspected that Raella knew his story, his cousin stubbornly shut her mouth when Ves sent out a probe.

"Melkor's story is his own to tell. I don't want to get on his bad side." Raella explained as she shuddered in an exaggerated fashion. "Watch out for the quiet ones."

Throughout the entire trip, Ves only gathered a couple of clues that shed a bit of light on Melkor. First, he hadn't shed the habit of comporting himself as a military officer at the start. He slowly stopped moving around in a rigid fashion when he drew too many eyes. A guard should not attract too much attention, after all.

Second, Melkor never withdrew his visor. Ves almost swore his older cousin even showered and slept with the visor on. Its large but sleek appearance signified its incredible origins. Ves hadn't even seen such a high-end gadget in the Bright Republic.

He wondered what Melkor saw when he constantly donned the visor. Was he constantly looking for threats? Or was he secretly browsing the galactic net like a comm junkie?

In any case, Melkor never appeared to be too distracted, so Ves didn't call him out. Besides his eccentricities, Melkor always followed his instructions.

In contrast, every time he spoke to Raella, she always acted confrontational. Ves had to tread lightly around her in order to avoid setting her off. She still harbored revenge fantasies against Virma, and wasn't afraid to be vocal about it whenever the Silver Chancellors played a match.

"I don't mean to pry, but maybe you should stop watching the mech games." Ves suggested one day. The Greenwind already passed the halfway mark into her journey to Bentheim. "It's not like you can salvage your career."

Predictably, Raella growled at him and left the suite. Ves imagined she intended to vent her frustration in one of the Greenwind's simulator pods.

He knew he hadn't been gentle, but she truly needed a dose of reality. The sporting leagues loved their controversies, but Raella had taken it too far. The sooner she got over this bump in her life, the sooner she could get her head back into the real game. Ves imagined she could be of great use to him once he earned her loyalty.

"On my own, I'm nothing." Ves admitted to himself. Besides Lucky, he was completely at the mercy to anyone who pointed a gun at him. Even if his feline companion could shred through a squad of infantry, Lucky had no way to threaten a mech.

Only mechs could guard against mechs.

One of the reasons why Ves assented to selling a twenty-five percent stake was because he wanted to co-opt some trustworthy mech pilots. Of all the possible people he could entrust his safety, he could never go wrong with family. For all the frequent internal squabbling, the Larkinsons never resorted to the kind of backstabbing Virma had pulled off on Raella and her friends.

Even though he questioned Raella and Melkor's reliability, it didn't change the fact that they shared the same surname. Ves could not imagine in a million years that someone could subvert his own family against him. Against the shadowy influences arrayed against them, trustworthy guards were worth their weight in exotics.

When the Greenwind finally arrived at Bentheim, Ves departed from the ship along with his two companions. The space station's loaders also brought out their personal mechs and temporary stowed them away.

This time, Ves wanted to conduct some business, so he took a shuttle and descended to the surface. He reached the upscale business district where his mech broker holed up in her lair.

After leaving his escort in the office building's foyer, Ves took the elevator to the top floor where Marcella awaited his arrival.

"Good to see you again, Ves!" The hefty woman greeted him with a smile. She offered him a glass of liquor. "Want a drink?"

"No thanks, I'm here for business." He replied while seating himself across her desk. "I've got a couple of matters to talk about."

She passed him a handful of electronic documents that displayed various bits of performance data. None of his customers employed the Marc Antony Mark II's in an actual battle as of yet, but the results from the various live-fire training exercises spoke for themselves.

"That's some pretty decent performance." Ves contently noted. The mercs who bought his products possessed enough skill to make the most out of its capabilities. "What's their feedback?"

"Their technicians are having a hard time maintaining the internals, but they're making do. Overall, I haven't received any significant complaints. Your buyers are pretty satisfied so far. "

The lack of malfunctions bode well for the Mark II's future. "I'll be busy with a project, so I won't be able to fabricate any mechs for the time being. I plan to hand over the production of silver label mechs to a fabricator I've trained. While he's not as good as me, he work should be able to pass certification, if only barely."

Marcella looked a little sceptical. "I've always heard the Caesar Augustus and its variants are plagued by constant setbacks during the fabrication process. Are you sure you're ready?"

"My fabricator spent months to master my design. I'm pretty confident he's up to the task. Just to be sure, don't start swamping me with orders."

"That won't be a problem. We'll delay the public reveal of the Mark II for the time being. I can use these metrics along with the testimonies from your first batch of customers to drum up some sales."

Ves hammered out a tentative schedule with Marcella. He also allowed her to correspond with Carlos directly in order to handle these minor matters. So long as Marcella regularly provided his business with orders, he'd be able to earn a constant stream of revenue.

"I take it you're not here to talk about the Mark II, right?"

He nodded. "There's also the matter of my ship. How is the Barracuda holding up?"

"She's safely stowed away along with the rest of my inventory. Your pretty corvette is quite a sight, you know. Every time I bring in a customer to deliver their mechs, they always ask me if she's for sale."

They both knew that Ves would be a fool to sell such a remarkable spaceship. "Haha, they can dream. In any case, I'd like to repair and staff my ship."

"Are you going somewhere?"

"Not for the moment, but you never know." He carefully replied. "There may be times where my services are required elsewhere. The ability to move anywhere I want is bound to be useful once I increase my fame."

In fact, he'd been eyeing the missions offered by the Clifford Society for a while now. He never let go of his dream to design an original mech. In order to reach this milestone quickly, Ves planned to amass a lot of merits in order to exchange for a set of quality production machines.

As for the Larkinson family's seed money? Ves already put the 500 million credits aside. When the time came to work on an original design, he intended to spend the money on acquiring the necessary component licenses.

All of this haste was an effort to make himself more valuable once a war broke out. The Mech Corps treated their called-up mech designers differently according to their achievements.

Those who dwelled at the bottom like Carlos could expect to be regarded as disposable cannon fodder. They often assisted the short-handed and overworked mech technicians at major supply points.

Mech designers who possessed practical experience in designing and selling mechs were often assigned as mid-level supervisors.

Only designers who designed an original mech had the opportunity to employ their design talents. The Mech Corps always assigned such valuable minds to one of their many design teams.

Marcella already made the necessary arrangements to repair the Barracuda. He quickly transferred 22 million credits to cover the greedy shipyard's costs and hire some spacers to crew his ship.

"You'll need a captain, pilot, engineer and at least one or two ratings to properly crew your ship. You can't get by with less unless you intend to run your billion credits ship to the ground."

"We'll go by your arrangements since you know better than me. Just make sure you're not hiring a bunch of pirates in disguise."

"Trustworthy spacers are hard to find. You'll have to throw in a lot more money in order to contract a crew who won't cut and run as soon as you encounter trouble."

After a quick discussion, Ves transferred a hundred thousand credits in order to facilitate the hiring process.

"Oh, there's one more thing I'd like to talk about." He said. He sent over a handful of documents his family's lawyers had drafted. "As soon as I get back, I plan to register a corporation. The Larkinsons agreed to purchase a twenty-five percent stake, you see, and I've already waited long enough to incorporate my business."

"That's great news! It's a lot less risky to do business once you move over to a limited liability structure. Are you still selling stock by any chance?"

"Not at the moment." Ves awkwardly laughed. Giving up a fourth of his stock to his family was one thing. He didn't intend to be so generous to outsiders no matter how much a help his mech broker had been. He firmly intended to maintain a cordial relationship with her.

"So what's your question?"

"I've already come up with a logo for my corporation." He replied, and summoned up his familiar emblem of a stylized Lucky sleeping atop a prismatic cloud over a giant V letter. "I'm still grappling with an appropriate name. I've been trying many random names but they don't really roll off the tongue."

His mech broker nodded seriously. "Determining your company's name is one of the most important choices you can make. A bad name won't be much of a drag, but a good name can absolutely be a boon to your marketing."

Under Marcella's guidance, he quickly ruled out several categories of names. For example, he declined to use an acronym unlike the famous BSBH Corporation that operated various popular virtual games like Iron Spirit. He also declined to use a safe but boring name like the Larkinson Corporation or the Cloudy Curtain Mech Corporation.

"Perhaps we're taking the wrong approach." Marcella noted in an exasperated fashion. They'd been at it for half an hour and Ves still hadn't settled on a suitable name. "The name of your company is both an identity and a brand. Think of your products and your future goals. Think of your specialties and selling points. What makes your products different from others?"

Ves leaned back and considered her advice. First of all, he distinguished himself from his competitors with the help of the System. Such a miraculous invention should never come to light, so he quickly decided not to use it as an inspiration for his company's name.

That left his specialties. So far, Ves intended to specialize in both the X-Factor and a balance between speed and armor. The issue with the former was that it couldn't be measured or put in a spec sheet. The issue with the latter was that he lacked sufficient depth compared with those who fully committed to either speed or armor.

Perhaps he might be overthinking the issue. Ves wanted to build a company that embodied his dreams. What was his ultimate dream?

To reach the pinnacle of mech design! To explore the ultimate limits of a mech! To see whether mechs can come to life!

Life!

His eyes instantly brightened. Could it be so simple? Ves wanted to convey the message that his mechs had life! Even if hardly anyone knew about the X-Factor, the bold aspiration should help convince his customers that his mechs were worth the price.

"I've thought up a name." He said. After repeating the name in his head, he finally decided to air it out in the open. "The Living Mech Corporation, or LMC for short."

The Living Mech Corporation!

Marcella widened her eyes. Despite its fairly plain use of words, the mere idea of producing a mech that could be described as living was a bold one! It already described the indistinct sensation that every customer of his mechs had mentioned to her. His mechs felt more alive than any other ones!

"It's a decent, if somewhat simple name. Are you sure you want to roll with it? It also brings up an unpleasant association with the fantasy of designing a mech composed of living tissue."

Ves firmly held on to his stance. "I'm certain. The name describes my philosophy of treating mechs like persons instead of machines. I don't want my customers to associate my products with commodities to be discarded at will."

Every mech is a life to be treasured!

Humanity has conquered half the galaxy and the Age of Mechs reigns supreme!

Ves Larkinson lacked the genetic aptitude to become a famed mech pilot. Fighting against his fate, he studied mech design in order to express his love for mechs as a builder instead of a soldier.

When Ves graduated from college, he returned to a new but empty boutique. Left with a small, newly founded mech workshop that his father painstakingly built with a mountain of debt, Ves somehow needs to make ends meet with the bank breathing down his neck.

In the midst of his despair, he found salvation from another legacy his father had left.

"Welcome to the Mech Designer System. Please design your new mech."

--Join The Mech Touch's unofficial Discord server: https://discord.gg/APB5KCU

Lexi would really like to scream but she controlled herself. She is now Director Min and needs to act accordingly. During lunch, Lu Group of Companies invited all C Company employees in a Hall for an extravagant lunch. Of course, she is sitted in one table with Alexander Lu. Not only in one table but she sits beside him. 
It is like nothing happened. He sits calmly while talking to Rose about the upcoming release of their new line of gadgets. The next table sits Ana and Lexi. They keep on looking at her. She knows that they are itching to ask her questions. 
She just can't wait for this day to be done. Lunch is served Lexi is determine to eat and run. 
Alexander is still not talking to her and he is slicing his steak while talking to the Directors of the C Company about the timeline of the training, the go live and the action plans for them to reach the metrics. She is about to dig in when Alexander lifts her plate and swaps it with him. He did this without looking at her. Now, she is looking at a plate with perfectly sliced steak. Then a server gave him a fresh orange juice. He also non chanlantly place it in front of her. 
Everyone is just looking at the gestures of Alexander and then to her. She is beet red but she just lifts her fork and eat. 
She will not talk to him or even thank him. After lunch, she was about to set off when Alexander holds her hand. "Wait for me. We will go to the training rooms together." Again, she is Director Min and need to act professional. 
She did not say a word and waited for him. They went through the drill of observation training classes. Alexander just sits silently beside her, opening doors and making sure that she is hydrated. He keeps on giving her drinks. 
Her most awaited tome has come. She will go home. Tomorrow she will be reporting the the new building and head quarters of the Lu Group of Companies. She didn't Alexander anywhere. She is relieved that she can now rest. 
Her SUV is now waiting for her outside. She slipped on the backseat. "May, let's go home. I am exhausted." 
"Sure Ma'am!" Then she meets the smiling eyes of Alexander.

He searches for the source of the laughter, then he saw her. A little figure throwing her head back and forth because of pure glee. Doesn't care if she looks silly, but who will look silly with that face. She has a soft feature but her eyes can spit fire. There is an unspoken passion and her lips. Her lips..are perfect in shape and gives her face an alluring air. He can't stop looking at the woman 2 booths away from them. 

As she meets his gaze, he can see a burning fire. Alexander smiled "Oh yeah, she likes what she sees". But just like a blink of an eye, its gone.

fantasy metrics

Fantasy

The Epitome of Fantasia

The Card Apprentice

The Boy who Circled Time

Team Vee

Jab Sab

Crazy Chick's Thoughts

Why Did You Summon Me？

The Mech Touch

A month of Dreams: Loving a Secret CEO

People search fantasy metrics also like: