Chapter 313: Hard Work, Good Reward |
A man with a voice even louder than Zhang Meng's stood at the door, holding two jars of fine wine, with several soldiers carrying boxes following behind him. "I heard you made some 'Spiderweb' thing for that bastard Old Zhang? We're neighbors, this good thing can't miss our Bing-8!"
Su Ming opened the door, his face wearing just the right amount of surprise and humility.
"It's Captain Wang! Please, come in, come in."
For the next several days, Su Ming was so busy his feet barely touched the ground.
During the day, he carried that leather satchel full of Formation Flags on his back, rushing between Bing-8, Bing-9, and even more distant defense zones.
At each defense zone, he would first activate "Observation Micro State," putting on a show of surveying the area. Then he would pontificate, pointing out strengths and weaknesses, and finally, amidst the captains' tearful, grateful gazes, he would reluctantly accept a large advance payment of Military Merit.
"This Bing-8 terrain is low-lying, the humidity is heavy, ordinary Formation Flags corrode easily. Gotta pay extra, switch to Red Copper shafts."
"Bing-9 here has too much wind exposure, spiritual energy loss is severe. Need to add a small 'Gather Wind, Lock Spirit' circuit. Not much, just an extra two hundred points of Military Merit."
Su Ming's business was extremely slick, his sales pitch smooth and practiced, thoroughly bamboozling those rough-and-tumble guys.
Every node, every spiritual energy circuit, he personally calibrated and adjusted, ensuring it could perfectly integrate with the surrounding environment.
Just as Lin Yu had said, "Since we took the money, we have to do the job well. What we're selling isn't formations; it's reputation, it's these guys' hope of surviving on the battlefield."
At night, Su Ming wasn't idle either.
His stone hut became the busiest "arms factory" in Bing Battalion.
Those damaged weapons he casually brought back during the day while setting up formations, or those delivered by various squads, piled up nearly half the room.
If it were an ordinary Artificer seeing this pile of blunted swords, broken spear tips, and shattered shields, their head would probably explode.
Repairing these low-grade magical implements was not only time-consuming and labor-intensive, but the profit was meager, far less cost-effective than forging a new one from scratch.
But Su Ming was different.
He had the "Like Water Art," he had "Observation Micro State," and that unique skill of his, the "water grinding effort."
*Zzzzzz...*
A quarter of an hour later.
Su Ming withdrew his hands, the cluster of dark blue light dissipating.
That long spear, which originally could only be sold as scrap iron, was now perfectly restored. The spear shaft was even more streamlined than before, faintly emitting a cold, watery gleam.
"Next."
Su Ming casually tossed the repaired spear aside and grabbed a dented heart-protecting mirror.
This assembly line-like work efficiency would probably make Zheng Tieshou's eyes pop out if he saw it.
In just half a month.
Su Ming, like a tireless puppet, frantically took orders, worked, and collected payment.
His name became thoroughly renowned throughout Bing Battalion.
At first, it was just "that Little Su who knows how to repair formations." Later, it became "Master Su." Now, even a few old veteran scoundrels with more seniority than Zhao Tiji had to address him respectfully as "Grandmaster Su."
Late one night.
Su Ming saw off the last wave of customers coming to pick up their goods, closed the door, and slumped exhaustedly onto the stone stool.
He felt his divine sense was completely wrung dry, his mind buzzing, without even the strength to lift a finger.
"I'm exhausted..." Su Ming groaned. "Master, this isn't cultivating immortality, this is just hard labor in a sweatshop."
"Stop complaining, look at your spoils." Lin Yu chuckled.
Summoning his willpower, Su Ming fished out his identity token from his robes.
A sweep with his divine sense.
That string of numbers emitted a mesmerizing glow in the darkness.
"Nine thousand, three hundred and twenty points."
Su Ming's breath hitched violently, then became heavy and ragged.
Half a month ago, he was still carefully budgeting for a thousand points of Military Merit. Now, that number had multiplied ninefold!
And this was just Military Merit.
Inside his storage pouch, the leftover scrap materials saved as "material fees," the spiritual wines, monster beast meat, even some unknown small ores the old soldiers sent to jump the queue, were piled up like a small mountain.
"This is a snowball effect," Su Ming murmured to himself.
Once his reputation was established, once his skills became a necessity, the speed of wealth accumulation was simply terrifying.
"Over nine thousand points, plus what you had left before, that's about enough for the down payment on that bottle of 'Earth Vein Spirit Milk'," Lin Yu timely poured a bucket of cold water. "Don't forget, that's fifty thousand points. Your current net worth is barely enough to buy the bottle stopper."
Su Ming gave a bitter laugh, the euphoria of sudden wealth instantly dissipating by more than half.
"Fifty thousand..."
He clenched the token tightly, the exhaustion in his eyes gradually replaced by a flicker of determination.
"This is just the beginning."