Reincarnated As Young King of Meteor City(Meruem-HxH)

Haruto turned his gaze towards Nobunaga. "How were the fairs and online market? You were excited about the prospect of broadcasting the Hunter Exam and selling Meteor Kingdom specialties in foreign countries."

Nobunaga leaned forward, looking engaged but not overeager. "Your Highness, the initiative has been successful beyond our expectations. Not only did the fairs draw immense crowds, especially with the broadcast of the Hunter Exam in the background, but the online markets also saw a surge in traffic."

"And the exports?" Haruto inquired, his eyes steady.

"Very promising," Nobunaga continued. "Since the broadcast, there's been a significant uptick in orders for our special commodities—artisan crafts, rare herbs, and exotic goods. Our domestic producers are thrilled; they can barely keep up with the demand."

Phinx leaned back and raised an eyebrow. "So, we've managed to capitalize on the international spotlight."

"Exactly," Nobunaga nodded. "The world was watching us today, and we seized the opportunity. They now see us not just as an exotic, far-off land but also as a nation of valuable products and skills. It opens doors for trade partnerships that were difficult to secure before."

Haruto considered this, his face giving away nothing but seeming pleased. "This aligns well with the narrative we're building. The more economically entangled other countries become with Meteor Kingdom, the more difficult it becomes for them to oppose us."

"Indeed," Nobunaga agreed. "And with this new revenue, we'll have additional resources to invest in whatever initiatives you see fit, Your Highness."

Haruto nodded, taking in the reports from his council as if fitting puzzle pieces into a grander scheme. "Well done, Nobunaga. Your efforts have added another layer to our strategy."

"Thank you, Your Highness. I look forward to the unfolding of the larger plan."

Uvogin grunted. "Money and products are good, but let's not forget we can't trade our way to the top. Other kinds of power matter."

"Naturally," Haruto replied, cutting through the tension like a knife through butter. "But today we're discussing our new gains. And in this domain, Nobunaga's efforts have brought us tangible results."

The room fell silent for a moment. Haruto's phone buzzed with a message. He glanced at it and then returned his attention to the council.

Haruto turned towards Kurtopi. "What is the process with shipbuilding?"

Kurtopi leaned forward, recognizing the gravity of the question. "Your Highness, the construction of the fleet is progressing well. The scale is massive; we're talking about ships capable of carrying hundreds of thousands of people. Of course, the project is multi-faceted and will take a few more years to complete."

Haruto nodded. "And the technology we'll implement?"

"Advanced, both for navigation and habitation. We're not just building ships; we're constructing floating cities with state-of-the-art facilities," Kurtopi added.

Haruto considered this. "Any potential obstacles?"

Kurtopi hesitated for a moment. "Resource allocation and human capital are our main concerns. The scale demands an immense amount of both. We're mitigating these issues by advancing our automation technologies and sourcing materials strategically."

"Good. We'll discuss reallocating necessary resources," Haruto concluded. "Let's ensure that no corners are cut."

"As you command," Kurtopi acknowledged. "Rest assured, we'll deploy only the best technologies, ensuring durability and resilience. This fleet will be a testament to Meteor Kingdom's ambitions and capabilities."

Haruto glanced at Kurtopi, his expression unchanging but carrying an unmistakable acknowledgment. "Very well, make sure to keep me updated."

Kurtopi nodded. "Certainly, Your Highness."

A moment of silence settled over the room. Haruto's phone buzzed quietly. He gave it a fleeting glance, then refocused on the council.

"We've won a battle today, but the war continues," Haruto said, breaking the quiet. "Every one of you contributes to the strategy in your own way, beyond the narrow confines of your titles. Always remember, we are building a narrative, a nation, and—ultimately—a new world order."

Nods rippled around the room; the air felt thick with commitment.

"As you were," Haruto said, standing up, signaling the meeting's end.

Everyone stood up, a practiced motion but one that never felt routine given what was at stake. As they filed out, Haruto's gaze lingered on the complex tapestry they were weaving, one individual thread at a time.

As the room emptied, Haruto took a moment to review the day's reports on his phone. Everything was falling into place, not as pieces of a puzzle, but as elements in an equation he'd long been solving in his mind. And today, that equation felt one step closer to completion.

Following the council meeting, Haruto made his way to Komugi's chamber. As he pushed the door open, he found her, as he often did, engrossed in a game of Gungi. Since the day Komugi's Nen had been unintentionally awakened, her Gungi game had undergone a transformation. It was as if the board spoke to her, and every move danced with possibilities that only she could see.

Haruto watched for a moment, appreciating the sight. Even he, with all his abilities and strategies, found himself outmatched every time he challenged her. The world might not have known it yet, but to Haruto, Komugi was the undefeated champion of Gungi.

Komugi sensed his presence, tilting her head slightly. "Is that you, Supreme King?" she asked, without lifting her gaze from the board.

"It is," he replied, his voice steady. His feet glided soundlessly across the floor as he approached her. "Playing alone?"

She gave a faint smile. "Practicing. But you know, it's not as thrilling without an opponent."

Haruto took a seat opposite her, signaling his readiness for a match. "Care for a game, then?"

Komugi's fingers hovered momentarily over her pieces. "With you? Always."

Their games always carried a rhythmic cadence—Komugi's delicate fingers moving her pieces with a graceful precision, and Haruto, with a calm deliberation that spoke of his deep-rooted confidence. Every move, every decision was a silent dance between them.

After several moves, Haruto’s brow creased, noticing Komugi’s choice. She was initiating with a beginner's gambit, one he had countered countless times before. In any regular match, he’d have dismissed it immediately, but this was Komugi. There was always more than met the eye with her. Instead of reverting to his tried-and-tested counters, he paused, studying the board, attempting to discern her hidden intent.

"Why this move?" he murmured, more to himself than her.

She remained silent, waiting.

He carefully placed his next piece, choosing a response that was not an obvious counter but an invitation to reveal her strategy.

As the game progressed, Haruto’s realization dawned: that naive opening had morphed, under her touch, into an intricate and near-impenetrable stratagem. It was as if she had reshaped a basic clay pot into a work of art.

“You did it again,” Haruto said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Turning simplicity into strategy."

Komugi's fingers hesitated over the board for a moment. She gave a sheepish grin. "You know, I always think of myself as that move. Plain. Overlooked. But then, things changed for me. I became… different. Maybe those simple moves deserve a chance too, like I did."

Haruto studied her for a moment. There was something profoundly touching about her words. A stark contrast to his own worldview, but he respected it. “Everyone and everything has potential. It's a matter of how it's harnessed,” he mused.

Komugi chuckled softly, "I just play, you know? But when I play, it's like the board tells me things. Things about the pieces, things about... well, life. Silly, I know."

"It's not," he responded gently, placing another piece. "Your insight, your connection to the game—it's unique."

She tilted her head, as if listening to a far-off melody. "You think so? I mean, back home, they always said I was good for nothing. Just some blind trash."

"Whoever said that was blind themselves," Haruto replied, his tone carrying an uncharacteristic softness. "Inability to see your worth doesn't define you. It defines them."

Komugi smiled, a bright, innocent smile. "That's sweet, Supreme King. You always have a way of making me feel... special."

"You are special, Komugi."

The two continued their game, each move laden with meaning and unspoken words. Every piece they placed became a testament to their unique bond—a dance of strategy, respect, and a deep-seated understanding of one another.