blueteamnovel Chapter 29 Workshop Streets
Chapter 29 Workshop Streets
After assigning the mission to Kalisto, Ivaim didn't rush to find answers. Instead, he had other goals in mind: gathering more believers and earning enough money to reward Kalisto properly.
Even though Kalisto owed him a favor for saving his life, it would be embarrassing if a Reality Master couldn't offer his own follower a decent reward.
"I still have some pride to maintain," he muttered to himself with a sigh.
Leaving his Fractured Reality, Ivaim avoided the dark and hopeless Streets of Penury and stayed far from Whiteflower Street, where that mad lady Minotaur Reality Master roamed. Instead, he headed toward the Lentan City Workshop Streets.
The Workshop Streets were alive with noise and movement. The clanking of hammers, the hum of gears, and the hiss of steam filled the air, creating a constant buzz.
The streets were lined with open workshops where people worked on all sorts of machines and gadgets. Tables were cluttered with tools, parts, and half-built devices, and the workers moved with focused energy.
Children darted between stalls, carrying pieces of metal or delivering notes, while traders shouted to advertise their goods—everything from sturdy screws to enchanted gearboxes.
The smell of oil and heated metal hung in the air, mixed with the occasional whiff of magic.
Overhead, pipes and wires stretched across the streets, connecting one building to another. Steam hissed out in short bursts, and sometimes sparks flew, lighting up the shadowy alleys. Lanterns hung from poles, casting a warm glow that made the shiny metal parts glimmer.
The Workshop Streets were a place of endless activity, where creativity and hard work came together to build things both practical and strange.
For Ivaim, it was more than just a busy marketplace—it was a place full of opportunities, where he could find what he needed to push his plans forward.
Ivaim strolled through the bustling Workshop Streets, his eyes scanning the rows of stalls and workshops. The air buzzed with the sound of turning gears and clinking tools.
Every corner was filled with people tinkering with machines or haggling over spare parts. Despite the chaos, his sharp gaze settled on a stall that caught his interest.
It was a modest setup, with tools neatly hung on the walls and crates stacked with polished metal components. Behind the counter, a wiry mechanic with oil-streaked hands worked on what looked like a half-built drone.
Ivaim approached, leaning casually on the wooden counter.
"Excuse me," he began, his tone friendly but direct. "Do you sell weapons here? Like guns or something similar?"
The mechanic froze mid-tweak, his screwdriver hovering above the drone. Slowly, he looked up, his brow furrowed and his face a mix of disbelief and irritation.
"Lady, luck's a fickle thing. Sometimes it smiles, sometimes it spits. It's not my fault you're on the receiving end of the latter."
The woman crossed her arms, her foot tapping impatiently.
"Maybe you just don't want to admit you've rigged this thing to bleed people dry."
At this, the shop worker straightened, affronted.
"Rigged? You think I'd mess with her work? This machine was designed by Aria Greenstone herself!" He gestured toward the contraption like it was a sacred artifact.
"Who's Aria Greenstone?" Ivaim interjected smoothly, stepping closer.
Both the woman and the shop worker turned to him. The worker frowned.
"You don't know? She's a legend in these streets! Built some of the finest machines Lentan's ever seen."
Ivaim nodded, his gaze shifting to the gambling machine. Its gears clicked and whirred, spinning brightly colored dials behind the glass.
"Looks impressive," he said, tilting his head. "Mind if I give it a shot?"
The woman huffed, stepping aside. "Be my guest. Maybe it'll finally pay out after draining me dry."
The shop worker chuckled. "Go ahead, stranger. But don't come crying to me if luck's not on your side."
Ivaim fished a coin from his pocket, his fingers brushing the smooth metal as he studied the machine. With a flick of his wrist, he inserted the coin and pulled the lever.
The gears spun rapidly, the dials clicking into motion. As they slowed, Ivaim watched with a calm detachment, the smirk on his face never faltering. The dials stopped—two suns and a moon.
"Close, but no jackpot," the shop worker said smugly. "Looks like luck's just not playing nice today."
Ivaim stepped back, his gaze flicking between the machine and the shop worker, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "Luck's funny like that," he said smoothly. "But sometimes, all it takes is one good spin to turn everything around."
As he spoke, he reached into his pocket and pulled out another coin. The silver surface glinted faintly under the lantern light, but no one seemed to notice anything unusual about it.