HTLCCBFT Chapter 182

Has The Lord’s Career Chart Been Filled Today? – Chapter 182

In just a short week, the new lord of the castle had issued so many recruitment orders consecutively that it practically mobilized the entire Gregor City.

The compensation stated on those recruitment notices was unimaginably high and utterly tempting!

Artisans who made a living by taking odd jobs here and there were, of course, the most delighted this time.

Even those craftsmen running their own shops were deeply tempted. If it weren’t so impractical, many of them would have considered temporarily closing their shops for a few months just to compete for those well-paid positions.

For the jobs requiring the lowest technical skills, although the pay was relatively much lower, it didn’t dampen people’s enthusiasm at all—the registration areas were instantly crowded.

Ticher applied for positions as a cook, weaver, and breeder—typical roles with few openings and many applicants, resulting in long queues at the registration points.

By the time she arrived, she was already at the very end of the line, and it took her a long time just to register her name.

Even though her clothes were tattered, the young steward in charge of registration showed no sign of disdain.

He gave her a brief glance as she nervously clutched her clothes, then proceeded to ask for her basic information—name, age, and address—in a businesslike manner.

“Ticher, 17 years old. I live at…”

She hesitated for a moment but still softly reported her real address.

The steward recorded it truthfully and then asked, “Do you have any experience in similar work?”

“I learned for a few years from my mother when I was young,” her confidence seemed to fade along with her voice, growing softer and softer, but she still made an effort: “But I will work very hard! I’m willing to do anything and learn anything!”

“You don’t need to tell me all that,” the steward said calmly. “I’m not the one responsible for screening applicants; I only handle registration. And personally, I think you don’t need to be so nervous. According to the esteemed Duke’s intention, the most important part is the practical ability test. For those whose skills aren’t yet proficient, basic training will be provided beforehand.”

Oliver made this arrangement to slightly break the tradition of various trades guarding their techniques closely, which led to skill monopolies.

Of course, he wouldn’t forcefully demand that people hand over their family’s core techniques or shatter livelihoods passed down for generations. But at the very least, he could provide the most fundamental training to maximize the potential of talented individuals.

—Otherwise, it would be as absurd as demanding that fresh graduates have several years of work experience.

No experience is acceptable?

Really?

Even though she was the one who made such a request, deep down, knowing how unreasonable it was, Ticher still found it hard to believe.

But she had been lost in thought for a while, and the people waiting behind her were growing impatient. She quickly snapped back to reality and chose to heed his advice: “Yes, thank you.”

After answering a few more questions, she completed her registration and was soon pushed out by the crowd like a grain of sand driven by the tide.

Quietly, she walked over to the weaver’s registration line and stood in queue, staring blankly at the small wooden token in her palm.

This was a small scrap of lumber, not even worth a single copper coin. It felt light in her hand, with some rough edges.

But in her heart, this wooden plaque carried immense weight.

Because carved upon it…

Was her name.

The name her father had proudly given her, yet which she had selectively forgotten for so many years, only recently beginning to use frequently again.

She closed her eyes briefly, but what surfaced in her mind wasn’t the tall, imposing divine statue she used to gaze upon during childhood prayers at the temple, but rather the handsome young man with beautiful brown hair and a gentle smile.

The corners of her lips curled unconsciously as she whispered, “Sir, this must be the luck you’ve bestowed upon me.”

How incredible.

Just by gazing at those unfamiliar yet familiar characters, it felt as if an invisible power flowed through her veins.

With everyone eager to be the first to write their names in that register, the square was unprecedentedly lively, making the usually bustling streets appear somewhat deserted.

As dusk fell, hazy street lamps were lit one by one, illuminating the surroundings.

Just then, a slightly plump figure moved with unexpectedly nimble movements along the broad Havest Street, soon arriving familiarly at a merchant’s residence.

He straightened up, cleared his throat lightly, and then knocked on the door.

Soon, a male servant appeared. After recognizing the uninvited guest’s face under the street lamp’s glow, he froze momentarily, actually identifying him: “God! It’s actually you, Mr. Piggs!”

The reason he remembered the other was because this person was the original owner of this residence—back when Piggs wanted to relocate to Laina City early, he had sold this medium-sized house he’d bought in western Havest at a remarkably rushed pace and for a quite low price.

“It’s me.” Piggs smiled cheerfully as he removed his top hat, inquiring, “Though somewhat impolite, I must ask—is your master, my dear friend Al Khemist[mfn]艾尔·肯米斯特(Ài ěr·kěn mǐ sī tè) – ‘alchemist'[/mfn], home?”

“The master is in the laboratory.

The servant answered instinctively, then quickly realized the impropriety and attempted to remedy: “If you don’t mind, please wait in the living room while I inform the master.””

Piggs didn’t bother with unnecessary pleasantries, responding succinctly, “Good.”

Given Al’s temperament, he could easily remain undisturbed in his laboratory for an entire month.

But upon hearing the visitor was Piggs, he reluctantly suppressed the urge to “send the person away.”

“Tell him I’ll be right there,” he said, reluctantly putting down the glass test tube in his hand. He then washed his hands with well water from the copper basin before slowly making his way out.

“Oh, my dear Al,” Piggs called out, leaning casually on one leg while waiting. He quickly detected Al’s descent and proactively stood up: “I knew you’d still be obsessed with those delicate, interesting little things, just like your father used to be. By the way, please forgive my scent—I just came from Laina and haven’t had time to bathe yet.”

“Mr. Piggs, long time no see. Thank god for protecting you.”

He furrowed his brow slightly and instinctively tried to dodge, but failed to avoid the enthusiastic embrace carrying the scent of sweat.

After all these years, although Piggs could be considered his elder—having once been his father’s close friend—he still felt quite uncomfortable with intimate physical contact.

After a brief exchange of pleasantries, he quickly got straight to the point: “I deeply regret your misfortune and am very willing to offer whatever help I can. You must have had a difficult journey… Before I invite you to rest here, please allow me to ask one question. Do you wish to buy back this property?”

Other than this reason, he could hardly imagine why Piggs would rush to visit him immediately upon arriving in Gregor city that very night.

“No, no, of course not. You clearly cherish this house dearly, and knowing that alone satisfies me.”

To his surprise, Piggs gave a negative answer.

He looked puzzled: “Then what is your purpose?”

The major pig merchant, who had recently suffered a disaster and nearly lost everything, gazed at him with a smile, as if weighing a newborn piglet from an old sow: “My dear Al, how long has it been since you last walked the streets? Even an outsider like me could see—today’s streets are extraordinarily lively…”

As a devout follower of the cat god and a loyal supporter of that gentle and beautiful lord, Piggs had been immediately drawn to the bustling scene in the square the moment he revisited Gregor city.

After understanding what was happening there, he looked at the deserted alchemist recruitment station and almost instantly thought of Al, his eyes suddenly lighting up.

His Highness might not know that most alchemists lived in seclusion, with eccentric and solitary temperaments, often coming from relatively wealthy families (clearly, insufficient family wealth couldn’t support their production of expensive glass instruments without engaging in productive work). Al was a typical alchemist—almost completely isolated from the world except for occasional regular meetings with like-minded companions to discuss recent discoveries, with no other social activities that they deemed unnecessary.

Just posting notices like that might not attract any applicants for a month—they probably wouldn’t even know about it.

While listening to Piggs’ account, Al’s face first showed astonishment, then confusion and doubt.

“Why?”

Al asked bluntly: “Why would the lord need people like us?”

“Don’t be foolish.” Piggs shrugged: “How could I possibly guess the thoughts of the divine messenger? But I can swear by the great cat god—that lord is not only the most beautiful I’ve ever seen, but also the most compassionate and wisest existence. If he’s recruiting alchemists, it must be for some very important purpose. The last time he used alchemists was back in Albury city—what exactly happened is of course confidential, but the emergence of super strong liquors like ‘Glory of the Cat God’ happened right after that, so there must be a significant connection.”

Under His Highness Oliver’s comprehensive coordination, everyone was like a small puzzle piece.

Although few knew the full scope of the plan before that exceptionally intelligent divine messenger completed the blueprint in his mind—only able to observe the people connected around them…

The eventual outcome undoubtedly proved that every one of them had been placed in the most suitable positions, utilized in ways they had never imagined, achieving their greatest potential.

And Oliver never failed to reward those who served him sincerely—whether slaves, freedmen, or nobles, all received compensation far beyond their expectations.

Al fell silent.

Though he didn’t care for alcohol, he had heard of the rapidly rising fame of ‘Glory of the Cat God,’ and once, on a whim, had used it in some minor experiments, obtaining rather interesting results.

Could its production process actually be related to an alchemist?

A qualified alchemist must possess ambition and intense curiosity—like Al.

He had no interest in making money through brewing or selling alcohol, but he was very keen to understand what role the alchemist played in this and the principles behind how the liquor achieved such potency.

Moreover, to utilize an alchemist’s skills to that extent, His Highness himself was likely an exceptionally skilled alchemist.

Piggs never expected that what most attracted Al and hooked him instantly wasn’t the generous reward, nor the special favor and attention the great divine messenger showed toward this matter, but rather…

“I would be delighted to serve His Lordship,” Al said earnestly. “And the generous compensation His Lordship offers will surely help many of my friends. I’ll write to them immediately.”

Just because he wasn’t short on money didn’t mean his companions on the same path were in the same situation.

Supporting such an extravagant hobby year after year had already left many feeling financially strained, on the verge of being forced to return to the dull path of inheriting family businesses.

If they could secure such a substantial reward, it would at least cover research expenses for nearly a decade.

“If,” Al’s eyes sparkled, “I can fully meet His Lordship’s requirements and fulfill his expectations… would he be willing to explain the principles behind ‘Glory of the Cat God’?”

Piggs, who always prided himself on his good temper, restrained himself repeatedly but finally couldn’t hold back. He curled his index finger and rapped Al sharply on the head: “Don’t push your luck! If I knew alchemy, you wouldn’t even have the chance to approach that noble lord, let alone make any requests!”

How infuriating.

Even setting aside the astonishingly high reward, merely serving the divine messenger and being able to approach His Lordship closely was something he had always dreamed of!

And this fool Al, who obtained such immense honor, didn’t know how to cherish it at all!

“Are you going or not?”

Blinded by intense jealousy, Piggs finally revealed his ferocity: “Forget it—you don’t get to choose. Even if you refuse, I’ll drag you there! If you dare disappoint His Highness, even if your father comes for me later, I’ll definitely beat you soundly with my cane!”

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