The Golden Myth
"Put the iron in the bin, Hiroshi. The quota does not care for your hands." The voice of the Guild Master, Tanaka Haruki, hung in the damp air of the workshop, cold and sharp as the steel he demanded. Hiroshi Murata stood by the workbench, his fingers still stained with the dark sap of the cedar, a wood that had been in his family for three generations. He looked at the iron bolts on the table,...
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