Bleulle City
Bleulle City, the famed City of Blu Powder, was as prosperous as always.
Guarded by the tallest eight-meter wall and watched over by intimidating sentries, the city was a testament to the civilization of this world.
The largest building—the City Hall—was seven-stories high, towering over the rest, as if watching over every citizen. It was a panoptic and omniscient presence in the city, and one way or another, people would always find themselves looking at it at least a few times a day.
Seen from above one, could see the various organic roads and the dense buildings.
Everywhere—every street, avenue, or corner—pulsed with life and activity. The markets were lively and the streets flowed continuously with people. Money flowed like water everywhere.
There were narrow winding alleyways that led to several charming squares for pedestrians. There were also plenty of avenues several yards wide, allowing for two beast carts to run side by side without bumping into each other.
In the middle of blocks and blocks of dense houses were patches of open spaces. At this time, as it was most of the time, these spaces were filled with stalls.
In the square, merchants haggled over the prices of various products. Whether it was the spices from Holt City, the salt taken from Sea Cities, or the clothes from the three Cloth Cities—they could all be found in the marketplace here, more or less all year round.
However, while the rest of the city was as lively as always, the atmosphere in one of the city's largest mansions was quite somber.
It was a large mansion in the Blu's most exclusive neighborhood, its grandeur only next to the city lord's. Inside it, a good-looking middle-aged couple were gravely discussing their problem with the children.
Well, one to be exact.
Their youngest son, Oslo.
This all stemmed when pretty much every friend's child his age had started new phases in their lives—while only a few got married and even fewer had children, nearly all of them had started massive ventures or businesses.
Whatever it was, there was something the parents of these young men and women bragged about!
What was their youngest son doing? Philandering!
Would be fine if there was a grandchild that popped out somewhere, but there was none!
It wasn't that no one claimed to carry his child, it was just that they were easily discredited upon swearing oath in the City Center.
"I just… I don't know what to do with that boy! It's my fault! I spoiled him too much!" A beautiful red-headed woman said, fanning herself as if to cool herself down. It was as if the wind could blow the anger away—to no avail, of course.
"He's already thirty and his level is still twenty!" She said, tone a little higher than her usual calm tone. "Do you know what my friends are saying?"
The man, a mature handsome man looking about in his late 40s, gently taking the fan and helping her out.
"You didn't spoil him, wife. He's just a deviant."
In this world where women were generally looked down upon, this interaction was considered incredibly rare.
The woman pouted, looking at her husband in annoyance. "So what if he's a dual element! He could barely use anyone well!"
"At least he's an architect," the man said, comforting his finicky wife. "Considering everything, having an occupation is really good enough."
"Architects only have value at Class C!" She told him, "When would he get to class C? In 50 years? 80?"
"We sent him to a village, where his level is considered top-notch." He told her, as if it was the answer to everything. The woman looked at her husband with cynical eyes.
"Would that really help?"
At this, the man's expression turned a bit more serious. "Perhaps," he said. "But it could go two ways: Either he gets lax and starts thinking highly of himself, or…
"He'd realize how his able peers actually looked at him, and change."
___________
Altera
Inside the second floor of the newly-built Government Center, in one of the rooms dedicated to the construction team, a small group of professionals had been producing drawing after drawing for so many days, creating piles of paper at the side.
Fortunately, a few people were over-compulsive and organized these stacks as well as they could, otherwise, it could take hours for them to find whatever sheet they needed when they needed it.
It had been a week since Oslo called for a Knowledge Exchange with the Architects and professionals they called Engineers.
This was something the Lord suggested, as open forums and discussions were one of the best ways to gather and exchange knowledge. Both knowledge bases—whether it was Terran or Xenoan—had their own advantages and disadvantages. The goal was to combine these knowledge sets to build a uniquely amazing and efficient territory.
It was quite productive and enlightening for everyone and everyone was inspired to work, even if there were plenty of questions.
At this time, Oslo was immersed in drawing like many others, leaning down for hours on the drafting table. It was just that, at some time, he saw that the table was filled and he moved to the side to get a more comfortable position.
Flop!
"Ack!" he exclaimed as he hit a stack. He thankfully manifested metal in time to keep it from falling.
It was here that he noticed the stacks and stacks of paper—some nearly as high as his waist!
Oslo looked at the piles with a bit of guilt.
One of the main reasons the paper, ink, and graphite hadn't been available in public had a lot to do with their team. They… simply consumed too much.
One person could make a rim every day or two, and consume a couple of pencils, and bottles of ink. They didn't even notice how much they used until they had to request for more.
The bright side was that this wasn't papyrus or hide or the same amount of drawings would've drowned them inside the room.
Speaking of these inventions, Oslo still marveled at them. This so-called paper was not only lighter and more convenient, they was also easier to prepare than papyrus or hide. It was available in larger quantities and less volumic, making them easy to stack and carry around as well.
Not to mention graphite that could be erased and redone with something called an eraser.
In fact, he had heard of graphite before, albeit it had a different name. Its easy erasure, however, was a very new thing to him.
Now, they could make various changes and corrections in a single drawing with a run of a finger.
Even their ink was so different from what he was used to. There were nearly no impurities and clumps at all, just smooth lines that made him love it very much.
It also made sketching a lot more fun.
Anyway, the past week, he and his small team of a dozen people had been recreating buildings from their homes, with specific focus on certain building types like the so-called hospitals, exhibition centers, theaters, and the like.
It was very fascinating. He was enlightened about so many considerations that he—or anyone else—had never cared for.
He didn't even know hospitals—termed Healing Building in his language—would need so much thought.
For instance, the architects had particular care for the so-called layout workflow. They aimed to optimize the flow of patients and staff as well as to minimize the distances of related departments to enhance efficiency.
For instance, the so-called emergency room was pretty much the center of activity with ready access to all the important rooms like operating rooms and the like.
And when he asked what operating rooms were, he… was perplexed.
People got opened up to get healed?
Baffling.
Putting these aside, the designers basically considered the distances between each room, and they even had a table—a proximity matrix, they called it—to show how important each connection was.
He had seen nothing like this before. To his knowledge, as long as a building could house an activity, then it was good to go.
There were also safety measures like slip-resistant flooring, fire exits and paths, and fire stoppers. The latter was a special powder the Lord made and placed into a sphere that fit in a hand. It just needed to throw on the fire and it would die out.
It was amazing and he tried it on Rowan. Hehe.
There were also 'accessibility' concerns like ramps for people in wheelchairs. They told him it was something for people who couldn't walk.
This was something that was incomprehensible to him, even now.
He grew up in a world that valued strength above everything else. Being an invalid was a shame and people generally didn't care for them at all.
In his world, if one could no longer move on their own, they would more likely kill themselves.
Because of this, Eugene was one of his most admired human beings after the lord and his mother.
In any case, the fact that disabilities were even considered so holistically…
It was confusing and, inexplicably, heartwarming.
It just made him love the territory even more.