God Of Crafting

The inside of the glider-bus was as ridiculous as its outside. Yet, while the outer shell made the whole thing resemble a product of a child's imagination, the insides were as shocking as they were...

No, not just well, perfectly well arranged by what I could only call a design genius.

The whole vehicle was the size of a standard city bus, no bigger nor any smaller. And while from the outside it looked all normal—save for its weird wings—the inside was the opposite of normal.

The metal floor of the passengers' deck was ripped away and replaced by high-class wood, a square meter of which was most likely more expensive than several months' worth of rent back at my old place.

The quality of the floors pretty much reflected the quality of the materials the rest of the vehicle was made of, regardless of whether they only served to tickle the vanity of the bus's owner or if they had an actual, practical usage.

Even the interior of the bus was split to allow for relative comfort, with its back divided into two separate bedrooms, its middle occupied by a small kitchenette and enclosed toilet, and the front currently hidden behind the only closed doors within the whole construct.

'I guess that's where all the machinery is,' I thought, confidently following after Claire to the front part of the bus, only for my eyebrows to raise high on my forehead when she pushed the doors open…

And revealed a spacious cabin—cockpit?

It was free from any kind of equipment I wouldn't expect to see on a bus, save for the front panel at the driver's seat housing a control panel taken straight from some sort of sci-fi movie.

There was no steering wheel for the bus's driver to control its direction, nor gas and brake pedals to manipulate its acceleration. Instead, all the driver had to operate the vehicle with was a set of abnormally ancient-looking levers and several dials with various scales engraved into the very glass said dials were made of.

"This is…" I muttered, taken aback by the sight, right as Claire took a step forward and pulled me along… only to then turn and push me away, causing me to stumble and fall onto one of the seven bolted-down passenger seats equipped with the one item no bus ever bothered to install—a proper seat belt.

Just like with anything else within this bus-glider, the designer behind it made sure to revel in luxurious details, switching from the simple seat belt design all those who ever used cars would be familiar with in favor of a much more complex and thus expensive one.

"Strap in," Claire suggested as she casually took a seat right next to me, wasting no time before reaching for her belt, pulling it over her chest and then all the way to her lap, only to then fish out the bottom half of the belt before locking the two pieces together, effectively securing herself to her seat.

"Are we in some sort of a hurry?" I asked, throwing her a curious stare.

There was no driver in the bus nor any sort of indication that would allow me to assume this thing was operated by artificial intelligence.

In terms of technology, and with the exception of its control panel, the insides of this bus were luxurious—lavish, even—but they failed to match my expectations when it came to how modern they were.

The faucets back in the kitchenette were more of a piece of art than a basic utility designed to provide water from its connected systems. Yet, for all the artistic value hidden in this carefully crafted piece of a faucet… it was still a design that grew obsolete in the modern world over two and nearly three hundred years prior.

The same applied to pretty much every part of the vehicle, where each of its individual parts could be sold off at some sort of charitable auction… mostly because the older the stuff sold, the more eager the weird customers of the auction would be to fork out for it.

"Just how the hell does this thing move…" I muttered under my breath while pulling on the belt to bring it closer and closer to my lap, struggling to connect the bottom part to its upper counterpart.

"Don't pull so hard on it," Claire advised. "It has the tendency to lock in position, sometimes reading a simple pull as a call to action."

At least in terms of the safety belts, pretty much nothing changed.

Sure, the designs were improved. The materials were switched around. At its core, however, it was still the same.

"Okay," I whispered, my eyes trained on the safety belt I quickly untangled before giving it some slack, only to then pull on it again.

Finally, the two parts of the seat belt connected, only for the entire front of the bus to suddenly turn dark.

"Departure in 10, 9, 8…"

"Just keep calm. It's a weird feeling at first, but you'll get used to it in no time," she explained.

"Wait, what fee—WOAH!"

The bus-glider, just like its name suggested, suddenly rose in the air as if it were a helicopter with several sets of invisible wind-blades currently spinning at their maximum speed above the elaborately decorated roof of the cabin.

This was the only explanation I could come up with at first, only for such a guess to fall apart when I saw the glow of spirituality all over the bus's wings—a glow that would appear only when spiritual energy was dense enough to start affecting its surroundings through physical means. Stay tuned for updates on mvl

Nevertheless, the rise of the bus-glider was everything but fun. From how my balls threatened to pop out through my throat to how the sudden and rapid acceleration threatened to squeeze my whole body into a package…

Just like Claire warned, using this vehicle for travel was absolute torture. And it wasn't until the bus finally reached its optimal elevation when its acceleration stopped… only to then start vibrating a tiny little bit as the sounds of its engines suddenly roared inside.

"And now, we just need to drive over," Claire explained, smiling a little right as the bus suddenly dropped onto something—likely a seemingly random cloud—only to gain traction on it and just… start driving forward.

"On that note, where is Chihiro?" I asked once the negative aftertaste of the bus's ascent finally left my mouth, allowing me to focus on the more pressing matter. "I always assumed he would be the one to steer this thing…" I explained.

"This kind of bus steers itself," Claire quickly cut my guesswork short, only to release her seatbelt and rise from her chair, walking over to the corridor running through the cockpit's entire length, where she finally brought her hands up and stretched them out. "As for Father," she then added, only for a hint of amusement to flash in her eyes, "if I'm correct, he should be somewhere down below the neck," she revealed while ending her lovely stretch and pointing her finger down at the elegant, wodden floor. "The coal won't shovel itself into the engine, you know?"