God Of Crafting

The day at the governor's office was as busy as ever.

No matter when one looked, people were rushing about to get their tasks done. Not even a single person could be caught wasting time on pointless discussions, spreading useless rumors, or shying away from work.

This was the high government office, after all, not some random administration building where clerks were only concerned with how to pass the little time they had for applicants between one coffee break and the other.

The whole of the governor's office was busy... but it wasn't chaotic.

Just like a well-oiled and attuned machine, everyone knew precisely how and when to do their tasks. And because of the hiring standards for the place, everyone was fully aware how just one of them slacking would burden everyone else around them.

Yet, even in all of this fake chaos, as the office would appear to the eyes of an outsider, there was a single place, an epicenter of sorts, where everyone's work would, sooner or later, go to.

"Makary's institute submitted their quarterly report," a single, middle-aged man stood by the governor's desk, with no more than ten pages in his hands...

And a stack of a few hundred more of them neatly arranged on a smaller desk located just below the governor's massive one.

"How is it?" Clayton didn't even raise his eyes from the paper he himself was studying.

In fact, him actually responding to his assistant was already an exception to the norm showcasing just how important the mentioned report was.

"There are some inconsistencies..." Clayton's assistant turned over the pages to look into the finer details outlined in one of the numerical sheets, only to then shake his head while rolling his eyes. "Nothing out of the norm, though. Pretty much what you would expect from the accountant befitting the level of their institute."

"Then proceed as usual," Clayton replied with a roll of his eyes only to blink a few times and refocus back on the documents he was just reading.

This was the governor's office. The highest authority when it came to the city and a direct delegation of the national assembly to the management of the province as a whole.

As a governor himself, Clayton had matters much more important to deal with than just one of the many profit or non-profit organizations within the city's jurisdiction trying to skim a few coins off the tax they were supposed to pay.

'In the grand scheme of things, it doesn't really matter whether people like Makary pay what they owe to the city or not,' the governor thought as he put the piece of paper in his hand back onto the table and then leaned back into his chair. 'This matter, on the other hand...'

One would find it really challenging to find a single person who dared to slack in the whole of the building. That is unless they walked into the governor's private office...

But this ability to take things relatively easier than all the people working underneath him was simply one of the perks of the job of the city's highest charge.

Or, to be more precise, this kind of small break wasn't even a perk - it was simply a requirement necessary for the governor to do his job properly rather than just singing his name, and thus the authority of the whole country that he was the extension off, under every piece of paper his assistants would prepare for him.

"I guess we will have to give up on some ground," Clayton muttered as if the very idea of allowing those words to sound out within the office was no lesser infraction than denouncing his nation and country as a whole.

And even though it was merely a murmur, it was enough to catch the attention of his assistant, a veteran official who fully well understood the implication behind his boss' sentiment.

"But sir, if we do that, then the next election aside, wouldn't that sabotage our negotiating position in the coming roundtable rounds?" he asked in a slightly agitated voice.

No matter how drastic the topic they were discussing or how drastic measures Clayton thought or talked about, keeping his nerves under control was just as much of a required ability for the man as it was an ability to relax under all of the city's political pressure for Clayton himself.

"You speak true, that I won't hold back from you," Clayton said before heaving a long, exhausted sigh. "But we cannot worry about things a year into the future when our situation grows desperate right now. And unless we pacify their interests right now, then by tomorrow, this city..."

Clayton cut his sentence short, only to stand up from his chair and walk over to the huge window that allowed him to look over the wide view of the city's skyline.

A moment later, as if the sight of the city revitalized the man and gave him the courage to make the hard choices that, as a governor, he was destined to make, Clayton turned back and returned to his desk.

Yet, right as he picked up his elegant pen to plant his signature on the paper that would buy him enough support from the spiritual clans to keep the city going and stop the local parliament from paralyzing all of his decision-making ability...

Ring, ring, ring!

As if the actual life was nothing short of a slapstick comedy, right as Clayton was to sign the deal with the devil, a phone rang.

It wasn't the black phone that sat upon his desk and that connected him directly to the headquarters of the political party he belonged to.

It wasn't the red phone of the emergency service, the green phone of the volunteer corps, the blue phone of the general business manager nor the yellow phone that would only activate in case of matters that fall outside of the scope of authority of the underlings on the other end of those private lines.

No, it was Clayton's private phone that, over the course of his tenure grew increasingly silent, all the way to the point where he pretty much considered it as nothing more but his gateway into the web and just a handy clock.

'Who in the hell would be calling me?' Clayton thought, gritting his teeth at the mere thought of any of his family members suddenly finding it fitting to dial his number.

As he reached out to pull his private phone from one of the shelves underneath the table, Clayton's thoughts ran amock as he ran down the short list of all the people that actually had his number.

'Peter? No way, he wouldn't bother unless it's for an emergency. And even then, I wouldn't be anywhere near the list of people he would contact. Kimo? Didn't he die two months ago? Juno and Elizabeth are deployed while Norn is on a mission in a spiritual world, and there's no signal over there...'

Squinting his eyes as the confusion overtook his thoughts, Clayton finally opened the drawer and pulled the phone out, only to see the one contact he never expected to appear on his phone ever again.

A contact that reminded him of a much simpler past, back when his drama with Peter was still one of the major highlights of his social life to the point he would go ahead and play around with his brother's son just to rub it back into Peter's face.

"Clayton speaking."

Raising the phone to his ear, Clayton allowed the artificial intelligence installed on it to read the motion and accept the call.

"It's been a while, uncle."

The voice on the phone...

Without even a shred of doubt, it was Tim's voice.

It changed a whole lot from how he sounded back when the two talked for the last time years ago... But without a doubt, it was still the same, energetic young man that Clayton came to actually like and personally adore over the course of the years he spent using him to play his brother.

"I..."

When it came to facing the issues of the city, Clayton was like a fearless lion, ready and willing to make even the hardest choice if it would be for the good of the community he came to love and respect so much.

But when it came to dealing with Tim in particular...

"I know you never expected this call, but right now, there's something that you need to hear. Not as my uncle, but as the city's governor."

As if there weren't enough surprises for the day, it wasn't just Tim's voice that changed, but so did his manner of speech and the way he talked up to Clayton.

"Wait, an emergency?!" Clayton spoke back to the phone, jumping up from his seat as soon as he heard the word and only processing the rest of his nephew's message when he was already standing. "Something I need to hear? And as a governor rather than your uncle?"

To the side, Claytor's assistant wasn't exactly sure what kind of face he was supposed to make.

To pick up a private call when they were discussing matters that could actively affect the future of the city...

It didn't take a genius to figure out the meaning behind the scowl that appeared on the man's face as he observed the transgression of the governor...

Yet, at the same time, he didn't stop him either, fully aware that no matter one's position, there wasn't a single human alive that would just ignore an emergency in their family even if they were extremely busy with important yet work-related matters!

"There are two people who will be coming to the meeting with me. And I need you to make sure the discussion we will have will be private in every possible way you could think of," Tim spoke out through the phone again, leaving Clayton too suddenly by the sudden call, the sudden message, and then the sudden details requested to respond in a timely manner.

"So," wasting no time, Tim continued, "when can you arrange for this meet?"