The Silver Cloud Clan wall appeared before me like a white stone giant.
It was a statement of power with watchtowers spaced almost perfectly. Almost. There was an obvious blind spot on the southeast side that anyone with two eyes could identify. High construction budget, mediocre execution.
The sun was already beginning to set, staining the sky orange. "Before dusk," the announcement had said. I arrived just in time.
I ignored the main entrance with its elaborate carvings and ceremonial guards. That was for important people. I didn't qualify yet. I headed to the side service door.
Two guards flanked it. These were not like the corrupt guard from the alley. They wore gray silk uniforms, carried real swords, and their postures were alert.
I approached. My legs trembled from hunger, but I kept my back straight.
"Stop."
The guard on the left raised a hand and looked me up and down. His expression shifted from neutral to contemptuous in half a second.
"Alms are given at the temple, not here. Move along."
"I am not looking for alms."
I pulled the wrinkled scroll from my sleeve and unfolded it with deliberate care. I showed it to him.
"I am here for the servant vacancy."
The guard blinked. He looked at the scroll. Then my face. Then his partner.
"You?"
"Me."
"Boy, look at you. It looks like the wind is going to blow you away."
"Physical appearance is an unreliable indicator of work capacity. What is relevant is execution ability and development potential."
Absolute silence.
The second guard leaned toward the first and whispered something that definitely included the word "crazy."
"What did you just say?" the first guard asked.
I simplified.
"That I can do the job. I learn fast."
"Look, wandering scholar. I don't know where you came from, but this is no place for games. The work here is heavy. People like you last half a day before collapsing."
"That is an unfounded assumption."
"A what?"
"A prejudice. You are judging my capacity by my appearance, ignoring other factors such as motivation, efficiency of movement, and energy resource optimization."
The two guards looked at me as if I had grown a second head.
The second guard shook his head.
"This kid is definitely crazy."
"Completely," the first agreed. Then he sighed. "But Matriarch Feng said to let everyone in who brought the announcement. I don't want her to kick me out for not following orders."
He pointed with his thumb.
"Go ahead, weird kid. Go to the courtyard and wait with the others. And listen well: don't touch anything. If you break something, we will break you. Is that clear?"
"Perfectly clear. I promise not to establish contact."
"Stop talking like that."
"Understood."
"My God," the guard muttered as he opened the door.
The courtyard was the first space in this world that didn't make me want to reorganize everything. Perfectly fitted stone slabs, a lone maple with bright red leaves, and silence. Someone here understood basic design concepts.
A dozen people were already waiting. Men with arms like trunks, women with tired gazes, and young people who looked at me with a mix of pity and annoyance when I entered.
To them, I lowered the group's average value. To me, they were direct competition.
I sat in a secluded corner and began my evaluation.
Candidate one: Man in his forties, muscular arms, face weathered by the sun. Advantage: brute strength. Disadvantage: trembling hands.
Candidate dos: Middle-aged woman with a martyr's expression. I had seen three children waiting outside the wall when I entered. Advantage: motivation through desperation. Disadvantage: external loyalty to the job. If she finds something better, she leaves.
Candidate three: Young man in his twenties, confident, almost arrogant. Likely has connections or skills. High direct competition risk.
"Hey, skeleton."
I looked up. The arrogant young man was looking at me with a mocking smile.
"Are you talking to me?"
"I don't see another skeleton around here. Do you really think you have a chance?"
"Opportunities are not a matter of belief. They are a matter of the proper presentation of a value proposition."
His smile wavered.
"What are you talking about?"
"That yes, I have a chance."
Several candidates laughed. The young man shook his head.
"Look, kid. The Silver Cloud Clan isn't looking for skeletons that will break with the first sack of rice. They look for people who can actually work."
"Real work is not measured only by brute strength. There is operational efficiency, waste reduction, and process optimization."
"I have no idea what you are saying."
"Exactly. That is your problem."
An older man in the back let out a laugh.
"The kid has guts, you have to admit that."
The arrogant young man glared at me.
"Guts don't carry sacks."
"No. But thinking about how to reduce the number of sacks that need to be carried does have value."
"You talk like a pretentious merchant."
"I talk like someone who understands resource management."
"Whatever." He turned away. "Good luck, skeleton. You're going to need it."
Time passed. The sun continued its descent. My stomach growled louder and louder, but I ignored it. It was just a low fuel signal.
A woman sitting near me finally spoke.
"You shouldn't provoke Lin Chen."
I looked toward her. She was about thirty years old with a tired but kind expression.
"Lin Chen?"
"The boy who spoke to you. His brother works in the Clan kitchens. That's why he's so confident."
"Internal connections. That explains the arrogance."
"The what?"
"His attitude."
She nodded.
"You're right about that. But be careful. People like Lin Chen don't forget when someone makes them look bad."
"I appreciate the warning."
"Where are you from? I've never heard anyone talk like you."
"From far away."
"That's not a real answer."
"It's the only one I have."
She studied me for a moment.
"You're strange. But you seem polite, at least. That's rare."
"Polite is rare?"
"In these times, yes."
A pause.
"My name is Mei."
"Kenji."
"Kenji. Strange name. Are you from the northern lands?"
"Something like that."
"Mysterious too." She smiled slightly. "Well, Kenji from the mysterious northern lands, why do you want to work here?"
"I need to stabilize my financial situation and acquire access to basic survival resources."
Mei blinked.
"What?"
"I need food and a place to sleep."
"Ah. That makes more sense." She sighed. "We're all here for the same thing, I suppose."
"You too?"
"My husband died six months ago. I have two children. Jobs in the city don't pay enough."
"I'm sorry."
"I don't need pity. I need this job."
Her tone hardened. Direct competition confirmed, but with emotional motivation.
"I understand."
We stayed in silence. I observed the rest of the group. Some whispered among themselves. Others, like the man with trembling hands, seemed to be praying. Lin Chen talked to two other young men, probably boasting about his connections.
"What do you think they're looking for?" Mei asked suddenly.
"Pardon?"
"The Clan. What do you think they're looking for in a servant?"
I considered the question.
"Reliability. Discretion. Ability to follow instructions without requiring constant supervision. Low maintenance cost."
"You talk as if you were... I don't know. A manager?"
"I have management experience."
"Management of what?"
"Complex systems."
She looked at me with evident skepticism.
"You're a fifteen year old boy dressed in rags."
"I believe I'm eighteen, and appearances can be deceiving."
"Clearly."
Before I could respond, the murmur in the courtyard stopped abruptly. It was as if someone had pressed a mute button in the entire space.
An old woman had appeared at the entrance of one of the buildings.
She moved with absolute rigidity, her back perfectly straight. She wore dark silk and her gray hair was pulled back with precision. She didn't need to shout or make gestures. Her mere presence commanded attention.
Pure authority. This is the one who makes the decisions.
Her eyes scanned the group with the efficiency of a scanner. When they reached me, they stopped. It was only for a second, but I registered it; she definitely detected an anomaly.
"You."
She pointed to the man with trembling hands.
"Inside."
The man stood up, nervous. He almost tripped over his own feet as he disappeared into the building.
Mei leaned toward me.
"That is Matriarch Feng. They say she can read people just by looking at them."
"Rapid psychological evaluation. Useful for hiring decisions."
"Can you stop talking like that for a moment?"
"I will try."
Five minutes later, the man came out. His face said everything. Rejected.
"Next."
One by one, the candidates entered. Some came out defeated. Others were directed to another part of the courtyard. Those were the ones accepted. The approval rate was approximately thirty percent. Not bad.
Mei entered. She came out ten minutes later with a neutral expression. She was directed to the group of accepted candidates. She looked at me as she passed and gave me a small nod. "Good luck," the gesture said.
Lin Chen entered with absolute confidence. He came out smiling. Also accepted. He looked at me as he passed.
"Your turn, skeleton. Try not to faint on the way."
The remaining candidates went in. Rejected. Rejected. Accepted. Rejected.
Finally, only I was left.
"You. Step inside."
I stood up. My legs protested, but I forced them to move. I followed Matriarch Feng through a short hallway to a small office.
The room was spartan. A polished wood desk, no ornaments. Only ledgers neatly stacked. The first sign of a truly organized mind I had seen in this world.
Feng sat behind the desk. She didn't indicate for me to sit. A clear message: this was not a conversation between equals.
The silence stretched while she examined me. She was calculating my value, or lack thereof.
First competent person in this world. Finally.
"The announcement is for workers," she began. Her voice was dry and direct. "Not for children who can barely stay on their feet."
It was a test.
"The announcement did not specify minimum body mass requirements," I replied calmly. "It only asked for hardworking and discreet people."
"Don't get smart with me, boy."
"I am not getting smart. I am presenting facts."
Her eyes narrowed a millimeter.
"You have ten seconds to convince me not to kick you out right now. Nine. Eight..."
"Because I am the best investment you will see today."
The count stopped.
"Investment?"
"Yes. The other candidates offer you the same thing: strong arms, broad backs, and the capacity for heavy labor. All with the same base value."
"And you are different."
"Completely. My maintenance cost is minimal. I eat less than any of them. I have no family, no distractions, and no previous loyalties that could compromise my performance."
"You also look like you are going to break with a strong breeze."
"Physical fragility is temporary and correctable with proper nutrition. Stupidity is permanent. I prefer to hire someone intelligent and weak over someone strong and dumb. The former can get stronger. The latter will remain dumb."
A flash passed through Feng's eyes. Amusement? Irritation? I couldn't determine it.
"You talk with a lot of confidence for someone in your position."
"Confidence is proportional to the certainty of the analysis. And my analysis is clear: you need reliable workers. I need stability. It is a mutually beneficial transaction."
"Transaction?"
"An exchange of value. I offer you my time, my effort, and my discretion. You offer me housing, food, and a stipend. Both parties win."
Feng leaned back in her chair, studying me.
"How old are you?"
"Eighteen. Approximately."
"Approximately?"
"That is what everyone asks me."
"Where is your family?"
"I don't have one."
"How did you end up on the streets?"
"Poor financial planning and events outside of my control."
"That isn't a real answer either."
"It's the only one I have."
We looked at each other. She was looking for lies. I only had partial truths to offer.
"You talk strangely," she said finally. "Like a merchant or an official. Not like a street child."
"I had an unconventional education."
"Clearly."
She stood up. She walked to the window, looking at the courtyard where the accepted candidates waited.
"Do you know how to read?"
"Yes."
"Write?"
"Yes."
"Do math?"
"Yes."
She turned toward me.
"That makes you more valuable than ninety percent of the servants. But also more dangerous."
"I am only dangerous to inefficiency."
A silence.
Then, Feng smiled. It was a small smile, almost invisible, but it was there.
"You're strange, boy. I don't know if you're brilliant or completely crazy."
"It could be both."
"It could be."
She went back to her desk.
"Very well. I will test you. But listen to me clearly: you will be at the lowest level. Kitchens and laundry. Scrubbing floors, chopping vegetables, and washing clothes until your hands bleed. You will receive a bed in the servant's quarters, two meals a day, and fifteen copper coins a week."
She paused, her gaze piercing.
"A single mistake, a single complaint from the other servants, a single sign that you cannot comply, and you will be back on the street. Understood?"
"Perfectly. The terms are acceptable."
"I didn't say they were negotiable."
"They aren't. That is why I accept them."
Feng shook her head, but there was a hint of respect in her expression.
"Follow me."
She led me through labyrinthine hallways. The complex was enormous. We passed inner courtyards, training buildings, and what looked like private rooms. Everything was impeccably maintained.
Finally, we reached a more modest building in the back of the complex.
"Servant's quarters," Feng explained. "You will share space with twelve other servants. There are rules."
She opened a door. The interior was basic but clean. Wood bunks and small trunks for personal belongings.
"First rule: silence after curfew. Second rule: no fighting. Third rule: what you see and hear in the Clan stays in the Clan. Clear?"
"Completely."
She handed me a bundle of folded cloth.
"Your uniform. Gray tunic. Wear it always when you are working. Tomorrow you will start in the kitchens at dawn."
"Understood."
Feng looked at me one last time.
"I don't know what to think of you, Kenji. But you're interesting. And it's been a while since I've seen anything interesting."
She turned to leave, then stopped.
"One more thing. That strange language you use. With the other servants, speak normally. You'll make enemies if you keep talking like a pretentious merchant."
"I will take note of that feedback."
"You're doing it again."
"I'm sorry. I'll try."
She sighed and left.
I was left alone in the empty room, holding my first tangible asset in this world: a gray servant uniform.
I put it on. The fabric was coarse but clean. It was too big for me, but it worked.
I looked out the window. The sun had finally set. The first day of my new life was coming to an end.
Tomorrow the real work would begin. And with it, my most ambitious project to date: the complete optimization of the Silver Cloud Clan.