The delivery location was again a massive building on the academy outskirts, designed like others to receive and process materials but this was the one specifically for the three best schools during gathering exams.
Long rows of tables where evaluators reviewed, weighed, classified, and valued each delivered material.
By the third day the place would be full of overlapping conversations, crystals clinking, and beasts unloading backpacks like a chaotic but organized market.
For Ren’s team, this was their first ti experiencing what happened when you were on Ren’s team.
But for Ren, this wasn’t new at all.
It was the sa dilemma as last ti.
So...
Ren scanned the place with experienced eyes, ignoring most of the tables. Instead, he headed directly toward the back, where a particular table was located in a quieter corner.
Away from the main flow of traffic. Where evaluators who he already knew could handle unusual materials or enormous quantities without losing their minds.
Three n worked there. One older with a gray beard, another middle-aged with glasses, and a young man who appeared to be an apprentice.
All three looked up when Ren approached.
And two went pale.
"No," the gray-bearded one muttered, recognition and horror mixing in his expression like soone watching their worst nightmare manifest in physical form. "It can’t be... We changed places for nothing."
"It’s him," the middle-aged one confird, removing his glasses to clean them nervously with shaking hands. "Patinder..."
The na carried weight.
Not fa exactly... Not here. Here was more like infamy among a very specific population of material evaluators who’d learned to dread certain students not because they did anything wrong but because they did everything too well.
"The one you told about?" The young apprentice heard that na and rembered. "The ’just to be sure’ reason you hired ? But how bad can he be..."
The sentence trailed off as he saw his ntors’ expressions. The thousand-yard stare of n who’d survived horrors that couldn’t be adequately explained, only experienced.
"Six months without seeing you," Ren completed with a small smile that suggested he knew exactly what that expression ant and found it amusing. "Hello again."
The two n exchanged looks of shared suffering. They already knew what was coming.
A mountain of work, overti hours and the endless classification of diverse materials that Ren would have brought in absurd quantities.
Last ti it took four days of non-stop evaluation. Four days of weighing, asuring, testing quality, cross-referencing with market prices, calculating grades. Four days where they’d questioned their career choices and wondered if becoming farrs wouldn’t have been simpler.
And now he was back.
The gray-bearded one sighed deeply, resigned to his fate. Professional pride warring with the exhaustion that ca just from anticipating what this would cost him.
"Very well, Patinder. How many hundred-kilogram backpacks this ti?"
Last ti had been three hundred. Three hundred backpacks of different materials, different qualities, different processing requirents. A logistical nightmare that had required bringing in extra staff and extending building hours.
If Ren had sohow topped that...
"Two hundred between everyone," Ren responded casually, gesturing toward his team waiting with loads.
The three evaluators relaxed slightly. Two hundred was less than three hundred. This might actually be manageable. Painful, yes, but survivable.
"This ti my Wolverine’s space has only half the backpacks... it doesn’t carry as much weight because the fabric’s volu is much larger relative to past materials’ weight. But the external load is bigger in volu because my guys and beasts weren’t as limited by weight."
The clarification made ’dreadful sense’ now... Less weight but more volu, which ant more total material even if the backpack count was lower.
The three evaluators groaned in unison. Dropping from three hundred last ti to two hundred now didn’t sound very relaxing when it seed the backpacks were about to explode and the materials would end up occupying more space.
Expanded volu could also an handling difficulty... an unpacking and repacking. an asuring beca more complex because you had to account for compression and air gaps.
"And I suppose," the middle-aged one said weakly, hope dying even as he spoke, "you have the usual mix of different plant elents, different material ages, different beast parts..."
His voice carried the resignation of soone who already knew the answer but had to ask anyway. His professional thoroughness demanded him to confirm the scope of suffering ahead.
"Ah, no. This ti we went to a different place because of the rules changes."
"Different?" All three straightened, hope being born in their expressions like flowers pushing through mortar or concrete. "Different how?"
Different was good, right? Different ant maybe, possibly, this wouldn’t be the nightmare they’d anticipated. Maybe Ren had sohow found a simpler option. Maybe the universe had decided to show rcy.
Ren pulled his personal backpack off and placed it on the table. "All the cargo is exactly the sa material. Giant weaver silk, optimal age, processed in the most ideal Silver 3 ring conditions."
The silence that followed was profound.
The gray-bearded one opened the backpack with hands that trembled slightly, not from nervousness but from professional anticipation.
Years of experience telling him this might actually be good news. Uniform material ant uniform processing. ant evaluation would be straightforward. ant he might actually sleep these days instead of working non stop.
He pulled out a roll of silk.
The fabric glead with that characteristic luster that only ca from perfect years of natural aging. The fibers were uniform, without irregularities, without sections too weak or too rigid. The color was consistent, a creamy white that indicated exceptional purity.
Professional evaluation running automatically. Thread count. Tensile strength estimate from visual inspection.
"This is..." the man whispered, his expert fingers examining the texture with the reverence of soone who rarely encountered true quality. "This is beautiful."
The middle-aged evaluator approached, pulling his own sample from another backpack. Then another. And another.
Each examination more excited than the last. Comparing samples, checking consistency, running preliminary tests with the kind of enthusiasm that only ca from experts encountering sothing that made their job easier rather than harder.
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