On the other side of the palace, led by an Okuzumeshu samurai, Lu Heng ascended the stairs leading to the floor where the Raiden Shogun resided.
His breathing was somewhat heavy, but after the heart-stopping experience in the carriage, his mind had grown unexpectedly calm.
“I’ve done everything I can. Now, it’s up to fate.”
He quietly opened his palm to look at the pink omamori inside.
A faint glimmer flashed in his eyes.
He didn’t think Yae Miko would give him a lifesaving amulet just because they had spent less than a day together.
Given what he knew of that scheming, black-bellied fox from the game’s plot, this omamori likely served some other purpose.
*A lucky charm, is it?* He didn’t say the words aloud, only smiling self-deprecatingly in his mind as he slipped the omamori safely back into his robes.
At the samurai’s gesture, he turned a corner of the long corridor.
In an instant, the grand, sweeping view of Inazuma City unfolded before his eyes without reservation.
In his past life, he had stood at this height countless times while controlling his character in the game, looking down over the city to take in its unique beauty.
But standing here in person, truly treading upon this earth, was far more beautiful than any in-game rendering.
Lu Heng couldn’t help but make a silent quip in his heart:
*MiHoYo, I want this!*
“Lord Lu Heng, we have arrived.” The samurai in front of him came to a halt and bowed, stepping aside.
Lu Heng took a deep breath, suppressing the chaotic thoughts in his chest, and slowly pushed open the heavy doors.
The interior of Tenshukaku was far emptier than Lu Heng had imagined.
There were no stray arcs of lightning, no deafening peals of thunder; even the shadows deep within the hall seemed excessively tame.
Yet, it was this absolute silence that felt like an invisible hydraulic press, slowly closing in from all directions and squeezing the remaining air from Lu Heng’s lungs.
Before the throne upon the high dais stood a tall figure with long, violet hair.
She simply stood there, releasing no elemental energy, not even a single fold of her garments fluttering.
Yet he felt an immense pressure—something no boss or supervisor from his previous life could ever have exerted on him.
This was something far more primal: a mortal’s instinctive awe in the presence of a god.
Lu Heng raised his eyes.
The moment his gaze brushed her face, his mind went blank.
It was a beauty so exquisite it felt utterly unreal.
Her flawless, snow-white face and the mole beneath her eye held a breathtaking, cold elegance in the dim light.
This was a face he had only ever seen on a screen in his previous life.
Back then, he had been a player who would shout “I will love Raiden Ei forever!” in adoration of her thousand-year vigil and gorgeous appearance.
But now, she was standing right in front of him.
*How beautiful…*
In this moment, that was the sole, pure thought in his mind, alongside the uncontrolled, violent thumping of his heart, which gradually drowned out his fear.
“The essay you wrote was not about Snezhnaya.”
From high upon the dais, that ethereal, cold voice rang out without warning.
No pleasantries, no preamble—the Raiden Shogun’s statement was as direct as an iron sword slamming down between them.
“You were speaking of Inazuma.”
Her voice stirred faint echoes under the high dome of the grand hall.
Those violet eyes, reflecting ten thousand lightning bolts yet cold without a trace of human emotion, looked down at him.
He snapped out of his daze as reason returned to his mind, bringing him back to the reality of his situation.
Lu Heng’s sympathetic nervous system tensed to its absolute limit in an instant, and sticky, cold sweat dripped from his fingertips.
He knew that the trial of life and death had officially begun at this very second.
Yet, under this extreme pressure, his admiration from behind a screen in his previous life miraculously transformed into the courage to speak.
“Yes.”
Lu Heng took a deep breath.
His voice was not loud, but it sounded exceptionally clear in the empty hall.
He forced his spine, stiff with fear, to straighten, and with a touch of composure and confidence, he looked directly into those violet eyes.
“The various chaotic phenomena your subordinate described in the essay are indeed the current reality of Inazuma.”
He did not attempt to use corporate buzzwords or political rhetoric to deceive the god before him.
Faced with a puppet Shogun governed by absolute logic and locked in “Eternity,” any clumsy lie would be seen through instantly.
Not a single ripple stirred in the Raiden Shogun’s eyes.
She merely watched him in silence, waiting for him to continue.
Lu Heng exhaled the stagnant air from his chest.
The proposals he had organized in the carriage, along with the subtle hints Yae Miko had given him, flashed through his mind like lightning.
“The ‘Eternity’ that Almighty Shogun seeks is the unchanging foundation of Inazuma for ten thousand generations, a supreme truth. However, the basic operations of Inazuma are currently, albeit unconsciously… deviating from your path of Eternity.”
*Deviating.*
He used this rather heavy word, and immediately afterward, aimed his blade straight at the execution level:
“It is not that your judgment is flawed, but rather that the administrative systems and wealth distribution methods of the past, which the Shogunate still employs today, can no longer sustain Inazuma’s steady continuation. If things go on like this, the collapse of the lower classes will turn into an uncontrollable variable, which will… fundamentally shake the very ‘Eternity’ of Inazuma.”
The Raiden Shogun lowered her gaze slightly.
“You believe that the current Inazuma is breeding variables that threaten ‘Eternity’?” she asked in return, her voice still giving away neither joy nor anger.
“Yes.” Lu Heng took a step forward, folding his hands to perform a standard and flawless bow.
“Your subordinate is incompetent, but during my tenure in the Tenryou Commission, I audited the financial flows over several years. I have some humble, crude opinions on how to eliminate these internal hidden dangers and bring social order back to the Almighty Shogun’s ‘Eternity.'”
He raised his eyes slightly, striking the perfect balance of humility and confidence typically found in corporate presentations.
“I call this set of proposals the ‘Eternal Paradise Internal Circulation Initiative.’ I wonder if the Almighty Shogun would be willing to grant your subordinate a few minutes to present this strategy to you in full?”
The hall fell into a brief, dead silence once more.
The deity upon the high dais stood quietly.
After a moment, her near-perfect lips parted slightly.
“Granted.”
A single, simple word, spoken without the slightest inflection.
To Lu Heng, however, it was no different from hearing the bells of a royal pardon.
His spine straightened perfectly, his demeanor shifting instantly.
The muscle memory of presenting proposals countless times in his previous life took over his body.
Calm and clear, his voice echoed through the hall.
“First, establish a ‘commodity standard’ to construct a credit system immune to external shocks.”
Lu Heng did not look up, keeping his gaze fixed on the polished black stone floor below the throne.
“Inazuma is currently under Sakoku. Mora cannot be replenished from the outside. If internal circulation relies on Mora for too long, once the reserves in the treasury and the market dry up, the currency itself will become a sword hanging over the livelihoods of the people.”
“Furthermore, what the common people truly need right now are goods to eat, to keep warm, and to save lives—such as grain, cloth, firewood, and medicine. It would be better for the Shogunate to decouple credit anchoring from ‘Mora’ and shift it toward hard commodities like grain, ore, and Crystal Marrow. The government can then issue a unified ‘Narukami Commodity Voucher.’ Backed by the Almighty Shogun’s supreme authority as a credit guarantee, citizens will be able to exchange these vouchers for actual goods. As long as the source of rationing remains in the hands of the Shogunate, unrest among the lower classes will have no ground to breed. This is the first step: stabilizing credit.”
The deity upon the high dais remained standing tall, her violet eyes as calm as still water.
Lu Heng knew that this alone was not enough to move her.
Without pausing, he played his second card:
“Second, tap into private wealth to fund Inazuma’s infrastructure.”
“Under the Sakoku Decree, the port of Rito is closed. The vast wealth and resources of foreign and local merchants cannot circulate, turning this massive pool of idle capital into an extremely dangerous powder keg. Forceful expulsion will only inflame conflicts, while doing nothing is a waste of resources. The Shogunate could establish a ‘Narukami Bank’ with Tenshukaku holding absolute controlling shares, opening a ‘special investment channel’ for this trapped wealth. With the Shogunate acting as the intermediary, their wealth can be used to build water conservancy projects, level highways, and repair ports. They provide the capital, the Shogunate provides the labor, and they receive future franchise rights in return. In this way, a latent hazard is transformed into long-term assets for peace and stability, while local merchants can also profit from their investments. Mutual benefit and internal circulation—this is the second step.”
Lu Heng took half a step forward, his speaking speed increasing almost imperceptibly, yet every word remained crystal clear.
“Third, implement ‘work-relief programs’ to eliminate social hazards.”
“Currently, the war on Yashiori Island is in a stalemate, and the number of refugees and unemployed samurai across the islands is skyrocketing. Hunger breeds rebellion, rebellion breeds war, and war… is the ultimate desecration of ‘Eternity.’ If the Shogunate merely hands out food relief, it will become a bottomless pit that will inevitably drag down public finances. If left unchecked, these people will drift to Watatsumi Island and become fresh recruits for the resistance.”
“The Shogunate should establish government-run engineering teams, using the goods and foreign capital raised in the first two steps as wages to recruit refugees to construct waterworks, repair roads, and reinforce city defenses. By letting them exchange their labor for rations, potential ‘destructors’ will instantly be converted into ‘constructors,’ dedicating themselves to the great undertaking of building Inazuma’s eternal paradise. This is the third step.”
The atmospheric pressure in the hall seemed to ease slightly, as if an orderly rhythm had entered the once dead-silent air.
Lu Heng’s gaze grew increasingly resolute.
He took a deep breath and threw down his final trump card.
“Fourth, which is also the cornerstone of all these strategies—implement ‘militarized agricultural reclamation and production cooperatives.'”
“The first three points are methods of resource allocation, but food is the true foundation of long-term stability. The Shogunate must break down the local interest barriers of the past, reclaim the ownerless wildlands abandoned due to war, and organize all farming households into government-established ‘production cooperatives.’ We will centrally allocate agricultural tools, quality seeds, and fertilizers. In strategic areas, militarized management and crop rotation can also be enforced. The harvested grain, minus the rations retained by the farmers, will be purchased by the Shogunate at a premium. In this manner, Inazuma will achieve absolute self-sufficiency in food security.”
Having finished his final point, Lu Heng slightly raised his eyes to look directly at the deity high above.
“The commodity standard is the anchor; foreign investment is the water diversion; work-relief is the pathway; and militarized agricultural reclamation is the reservoir. These four strategies, operating as cause and effect, are closely linked to form a self-sustaining, zero-loss ‘internal circulation’ within Inazuma. When this system is in full operation, Inazuma will no longer fear any long-term external consumption or change. The entire society will become an absolutely stable, precision machine where everyone performs their designated duties.”
“This, indeed, is the foundation of an Eternity that requires nothing from the outside world.”
As his voice faded, the hall fell back into silence.
Upon the high dais, the violet figure stood quietly.
Deep within those eyes that reflected ten thousand lightning bolts, an incredibly subtle shift flickered, as if mirroring the gaze of another entity.
The Plane of Euthymia.
In that endless void composed of desolation and dark red, Raiden Ei, who had sat in meditation here for ages, slowly opened her eyes at this moment.
The space before her rippled outward.
Through the vision of the puppet Shogun, Ei’s beautiful eyes locked onto the tense but determined young scribe.
*”Internal circulation”…
An Eternity that requires nothing from the outside world?*
Ei softly murmured this strange, unfamiliar term in her heart.
As a warrior, she did not particularly understand the complex accounting, resource allocation, and administrative maneuvers of mortals, but she was far from foolish—on the contrary, she was exceptionally clever.
She could see that the official documents submitted by the Tri-Commission had become increasingly prone to sugarcoating reality, and the situation was deteriorating like cracking porcelain.
In the past, her sole reliance in resisting change had been her peerless, invincible Musou no Hitotachi.
*Truly incredible,* Ei’s thoughts drifted slightly.
In the five hundred years since the cataclysm of Khaenri’ah, whenever the daimyos and high-ranking officials of the various commissions knelt in this hall, they were either weeping about financial hardships and begging for funds, or scheming against one another to claim credit.
Only this mortal, who possessed not a shred of elemental power, had proposed such concepts.
They seemed wildly imaginative, yet none of his strategies crossed the red lines of the Sakoku Decree or the Vision Hunt Decree.
Instead, every single one of them was designed to plug the various loopholes plaguing the Shogunate.
He was sophisticated and smooth, yet so young.
This mortal, who modestly referred to his ideas as “humble opinions,” had actually managed to prescribe a flawless remedy for her Eternity right in the midst of Inazuma’s current crisis.
*”Interesting…”* In the Plane of Euthymia, a long-absent ripple of emotion flashed through Raiden Ei’s eyes.
As the wills of Ei and the Shogun reached a consensus, the situation in the external hall reversed in an instant.
The invisible pressure in the hall, previously as heavy as a hydraulic press, vanished in this very second like a receding tide.
Air rushed back into his lungs, and Lu Heng’s body felt instantly lighter.
Though his hands hidden inside his sleeves were completely drenched in sticky sweat, he let out a long sigh of relief in his heart.
*I, Lu Heng, have won!*
From atop the high dais, that ethereal, cold, and absolutely authoritative voice slowly rang out once more.
But this time, a trace of warmth seemed to temper the icy tone.
“Your proposals indeed patch the current vulnerabilities within the Shogunate. Well done.”
Lu Heng showed no reaction on the outside, but he was cheering wildly on the inside.
*Crisis averted!
Next, as soon as she gives the command for me to dismiss, I can go back to the Tenryou Commission to finalize my resignation.
If those old fogies of the Kujou Clan try to make trouble, I’ll just say I’m working on the Shogun’s personal business!
Then, I’ll take the nine hundred thousand Mora I extorted, head over to the Yae Publishing House to copy some famous novels and slack off, and happily wait for the Traveler to kick off the main story…
Perfect!
Now that is what a wage earner’s retirement should look like!*
Lu Heng blissfully imagined his beautiful future.
Lu Heng took a deep breath, adjusted his expression into a flawless corporate smile, and bowed slightly.
“To ease the concerns of the Almighty Shogun is my duty as your subordinate. Since the presentation is complete, I shall take my leave now, so as not to disturb your meditation…”
“No need.”
The Raiden Shogun cut him off.
Her violet eyes watched him quietly, her beautiful face devoid of any expression, sounding as flat as if she were announcing an ordinary, everyday occurrence.
“As of this moment, you are relieved of all duties in the Tenryou Commission.”
“You will remain in Tenshukaku to assist me in implementing these proposals.”
The flawless professional smile on Lu Heng’s face froze instantly.
“From this day forth, you are the Tenshukaku’s directly appointed Special Envoy of Implementation. Hereafter, all directives concerning this strategy across Inazuma shall pass through your hands.”
“As for your title… you shall temporarily serve as my Sobayonin. Lu Heng, this is my special dispensation to you, as well as your trial.”
As for Lu Heng?
He listened, completely petrified.
Slacking off at the Yae Publishing House, plagiarizing classic novels, living a peaceful life free of overtime…
All those beautiful dreams he had just conjured up in his mind were popped like soap bubbles in this very second.
Lu Heng’s lips trembled as he let out a faint, cracking gasp.
“…Huh?”