As everyone knew, back when the Southern Continent, Northern Continent, Central Earth, and Thousand Isles had yet to split apart and the world was still whole, everything in the mortal realm lay under the control of the Eternal Empire.
After the primordial Chaos Era came to an end, the everlasting Empire unified all things and phenomena and controlled everything, its rule enduring for thousands upon thousands of years...
Its terrifying power, formidable foundations, and abundant accumulations were plain to see.
And under those circumstances, what members of the resistance organization [Mo] needed most, aside from determination and perseverance, was the ability to run away!
Faced with the Empire's frequent crackdowns, its root-and-branch assaults, and its scorched-earth encirclements, all the Mohists of that ancient era could do was flee from place to place and hide in dark corners.
Living from day to day, never knowing where their next meal would come from, was the normal state.
What did you say?
A Workshop?
What dream were you having, friend?
Forget a Workshop—even if you built yourself a brick house, before you could put up the ceiling, the Empire would tear it down and grind it into dust.
They would uproot the wheat you had just planted, slaughter the sow that had just given birth in your pen, and split every earthworm on the ground in half!
For this reason, craftsmen had to minimize their dependence on Workshops and all manner of equipment. Unless absolutely necessary, they would never remain in one place for long.
Any trace left behind by an unregistered Workshop could become a Craftsman's death warrant.
Yet a Craftsman without a Workshop was like a civil servant without an official post, flat cola, a safety officer who couldn't get a seat at the table, or an author without recommendations or