God Of Crafting

\'What\'s the difference if all that changes is the wording?\'

I shook my head before rolling my eyes and turning around.

What would be the point of responding?

Sure, I was quitting on the spot after missing a graveyard shift… But it wasn\'t like this place, no, this boss treated me kindly before.

Working graveyard shifts while attending the institution already put a massive strain on my ability to get proper rest, something the old lady knew perfectly well about. And despite working the nights, she would always skimp on the overnight pay, pretending as if this obligation didn\'t apply to our part-time deals at the shop.

This was but one of the many hateful aspects of this job, but…

But I would lie if I were to claim it was all bad. Heck, I wouldn\'t have arranged for someone to likely cover for me if I didn\'t care in the slightest.

The thing is, rather than for the shop or the boss-lady herself, I cared for the rest of our small team, knowing full well that the others were hopeless bastards just like me.

That\'s why I called.

Because while I couldn\'t care less over what would happen to the boss-lady, I had no plans to go out of my way to make things harder for the boys!

The greatest proof of how this situation wasn\'t just me whining was how Tom, despite being in full view of the boss-lady, still decided to walk with me as we left the area.

And he didn\'t look back even once.

"That was one way to end your job," Tom spoke out once we retreated safely outside of the patrol range of the old lady, well beyond her hearing range under the assumption she wasn\'t furious enough to leave her job behind the counter and follow us into the city.

I looked over to the side at the dreamy face of my now-former colleague. Just from the look of it, I could tell he imagined nothing else but himself stepping into my shoes and ditching his work as well.

"Yeah," I agreed in a silent voice, perfectly fine with the overwhelmingly heavy ambiance of the morning.

By now, the streets were still only starting to fill up, not yet robbing our walk back home of its peacefulness and silence.

"I really like those moments, you know?" Tom spoke out only when we reached the city\'s park through which we often cut our way through. "Walking through as the city barely wakes up for the day."

Hidden away from the neon lights of the city by the silence of the old trees, Tom\'s complexion improved a little. Now, he didn\'t seem as tired as when he just left the shop.

"Good for you," I said, myself falling into the same, reflective mood. "If you can find joy in the smallest of things, even in the worst of circumstances… You\'ve got a happy life ahead of you."

For me, it was different.

I was always set on my goal of becoming a cultivator. A goal always so distant, I failed to consider what lay beyond achieving it.

That was likely why I wasn\'t sure which offer to pick, whether to become a streamer and ride my wave of going viral, accept Claire\'s offer and enjoy my freedom, or shake hands with her dad and gain instant benefits at the cost of freedom and premiums down the line.

I couldn\'t decide… because I didn\'t really know what was my goal behind all of it! And I could only rationally judge the pros and cons of every choice when I knew what direction in life I wanted to take!

But even now… I still just couldn\'t tell.

Sure, it was easy to wish to become rich… But now that it was something I actually could achieve, I could no longer see it as… just an empty goal.

Instead of chasing my first breakthrough was I supposed to chase after an endlessly bigger and bigger number on my bank account?

Was that really all my determination and discipline would amount to, in the end, just an ever-growing stack of cash I would soon find myself having nothing to spend on?

Or was I supposed to do my best with the actual cultivation, only to fill my life with endless struggle whenever I went?

\'You don\'t have the talent for it and you have five years to back this realization up,\' I thought to myself, trying to remain as rational in the situation as I could. \'But with this way of thinking…\'

I had a talent for crafting.

That one part was undeniable.

How and why was I crafting some strange and weird things when I meditated, I couldn\'t tell. But even without the support of this meditation, my hands were still capable of adding shape and form to the ideas popping up in my mind.

\'I have both talent for crafting, as hard to measure as something like this might be, but it\'s also quite fun, isn\'t it?\'

I heaved a long, deep sigh, enjoying the rare taste of the fresh, moist air of the forest in the morning. It was just… so different from the air I was used to breathing back at my place.

To tasty, so refreshing, so…

\'Wait…\'

I stopped my feet from taking another step, too focused on the sudden idea that popped into my head.

And now that I\'ve focused…

"So you\'ve already figured it out," Tom spoke out, giving me a slight smile as he looked down at me with his arms crossed on his chest.

"Figured out what?" I asked, unexpectedly failing to catch his drift.

"You were deep in thought over something," Tom explained without any issue while opening up his arms and then resting his hands on his hip. "But now you look like you figured something out. Am I on point, or am I talking nonsense?"

Tom\'s slight smile was perfectly confident… and for a good reason.

He was right, after all.

But it was his words that made me realize that by getting this one, sudden idea, I\'ve figured out the simple answer to this extremely complicated question.

How could I do anything else in my life if not the thing that I randomly get ideas for while walking through the park? Randomly connect the dots in my mind to the common denominator…?

\'If it\'s so tasteful, refreshing, and whatnot… Why not make a device to purify the air?\'

The moment of deeper breathing confirmed that the Qi in the air, as sparse as it was, was the culprit behind this slight, refreshing feeling I\'d felt the moment I stepped into the forest.

Something I\'ve felt much stronger than just three days ago when I did it as a mere unawakened mortal.

The Qi in the air was extremely thin… but also deprived of quite a part of the dirt and pollution present on the streets.

Back home I\'ve already got dense Qi… but what would happen if I further purify it?

But all of that… was just a distraction. A feed for thought for later, for when I would get back home.

What was important, was that just like Tom pointed out, I\'ve figured it out.

"What I want to do in the future is to keep crafting," I muttered, as if voicing this thought out could anchor it in reality, solidify its presence, and turn it into something… tangible?

"Crafting?" Tom caught up with my mutter and raised his eyebrow. "I thought you finally managed to become a cultivator, so why not just rejoin the institution?" he suggested.

That…

That surely was an option… but one that I\'ve long since given up on. I\'ve already learned how I had to craft to meditate, something I couldn\'t do while simultaneously throwing out precise punches!

One couldn\'t focus on doing two things at once, especially when one required the utmost level of delicacy while the other relied on raw strength!

"Is there even money in crafting? But now that I think about it… If you start like a handyman for hire, maybe you could actually earn quite a fair bit?"

I smiled lightly and shook my head.

"That\'s not exactly the kind of crafting I had in mind, but yeah, there definitely is money in it."

Hearing this, Tom smiled before his posture… relaxed.

"That\'s great to hear," he breathed out with visible relief before turning his face and beaming me with a wide, snickerish grin, "then I hope you will hire me once you firmly stand on your own two feet!"