Chapter 7, Episode 5: Self-Reflection and Recruitment
Four days later, I woke up at my usual time, no alarm necessary. As normal, I made breakfast for my slimes and myself before getting dressed and preparing to leave for work. I always took time to work on a divine statue whenever I had a bit of leeway before work every day as well. Such was my morning routine as of late.
I sighed. The thought occurred that I’d been kinda down ever since that little fiasco in the artisan district. But I was aware of how burned out I’d been that day, so maybe that justified it somewhat?
Serelipta’s words from before rang in my ears.
Life’s about to get really hectic for you, so be ready.
He must have been hinting at the state of things in Gimul once I returned from Fatoma, since “hectic” was certainly one way of describing the current situation, what with all the rampant crime going on. Given his (technical) status as a god, it wasn’t hard to imagine that he was aware of what was going down in Gimul when we spoke. It would’ve been nice if he’d been more forthcoming with me, but then again, I figured he wasn’t the type to give anyone information like that out of the milk of human—or godly—kindness. He was at least generous enough to give a mere mortal like myself a word of warning, though.
After the incident, I’d gotten all introspective and asked myself why that whole situation had affected me the way it did. By now, I’d drawn a vague connection between the current state of Gimul and my previous life as an office schmuck. Though the scenery and air were different, I couldn’t help but think that my “old” life was lurking around the corner. I felt like I’d been shaken awake from a lovely dream, as though this feeling was a sign that all my good fortune in this world up to now was about to be nullified by equally great misfortune. Cloudy, inexplicable feelings of dread weighed on my soul.
Well, not that I don’t trust my employees, it’s just... I want to protect those who’ve been kind and helpful to me. No matter how remote the odds of it happening are, the thought of losing them terrifies me. I just hope it’s only paranoia on my part... These thoughts are practically just another part of my morning routine at this point.
“Time to go, I suppose...” I sighed, and dragged myself out of my abode, heading in the direction of my shop.
■ ■ ■
When I got there, something was waiting for me—something which definitely wasn’t going to do my sour mood any favors.
“A letter?”
“From the laundry shop.”
“The laundry shop?”
Apparently, my displeasure was written all over my face, because Carme gave me an apologetic look. I made a mental reminder to watch myself with that, then took the letter and read it over.
“Hm...I see.”
“Sir, would you mind if I read it myself?”
“Go ahead. It’s basically a letter of apology, for what it’s worth.”
Indeed, the first paragraph was a profuse apology. The letter then went on to explain that she was a mother and a shopkeeper, and she had to balance both of those roles. Then, she clarified who the men outside her shop were, and explained their actions.
“So, does this change anything?”
“Not as far as I’m concerned... She didn’t ask for another meeting or anything. I’ll tell her we accept the apology, and then we’ll just focus on the tasks at hand.”
“Huh...”
“What’s the ‘huh’ about?”
“I’m not disagreeing with your decision; I just expected you’d try to talk to her again and smooth things over. Not to mention, this is the second time I’ve seen you react in a way that’s totally unlike you.”
“Well... I don’t normally hold grudges, and I’m certainly not holding any now, but... I still don’t think I can trust her with a branch. Your concern is appreciated, though.” I was quite aware of how worried Carme was about my mental state.
“Any other mail?”
“Right here. Letter from Master Glissela of the Merchant’s Guild, and the usual stuff from Master Taylor of the Tamer’s Guild... And here’s one with no sender. I think it was that adventurer kid, Beck, who brought it.”
“Must be from the slum leader, Lible, then. Let’s see... Oh, wonderful.”
“Looks like you’ve received some good news.”
“Yes. We’ve been discussing a few things, and it seems like they’re all moving in the right direction. Do you remember the garbage plant and the slime product factory we discussed the other day? Building the plants, not to mention all the other facilities associated with the process, would require a lot of land, so we agreed that the best solution was to level a portion of the slums.”
“What about the people who live there?”
A good question. One which the letter had an answer to.
“Seems like they looked into it and found out that most residences in the slums are flat, one-story buildings; it’s basically a congregation of shacks.” Many of them seemed on the brink of collapse as well—they were afflicted with everything from large cracks in the wall to rotten lumber that no amount of patching up could fix.
“So if we could rebuild those shacks as two-story houses, that’s double the people we can fit in the same amount of space. Makes things more three-dimensional.”
“I suppose that checks out...”
“It took me a week to build this shop using magic and slimes. I presented that example and had them survey the slums for anyone willing to have their residence converted to a two-story building. After they’re built, the owner would take residence, of course, on whichever floor they chose. I then had them ask if they would be willing to rent out their empty floor to someone if their home was converted. The owners would get a remodeling, and additional income from rental too. I wasn’t totally on board at first, but the guildmasters said that it could be an option if these owners and renters were offered certain guarantees. I took the idea to Lible, and he told me that the people in the slums were more receptive to the idea than I thought.”
Looking at the documents, I was surprised to see some enthusiastic volunteers. Comments like, “I don’t have much to lose anyway,” or “I can move whenever,” or asking when we’d get started; that sort of thing. I would have to insist on airtight agreements between both parties. It wouldn’t bode well for either side if I gave them the impression that I was illegally chasing people away from their land. Having already been mistaken for one of those scammers, I wasn’t eager to relive the experience.
“So we would have the residents move out, then buy out the land from the owners, making space for the project through mutual agreement. Arnold, a big shot in the local government, had mentioned that he wanted to rezone the slums if possible...”
At this point, I was contemplating suggesting the building of a high-density residential area. I had already planned to build dorms for the factory and garbage plant anyway, and I could demolish a lot of buildings at once with my magic and slimes. Clearing rubble from there was easy enough, so I could hire people to expedite it... Was I already getting myself into zoning projects?
I imagined the rows of slime-related factories standing in the former slums. Turning Skid Row into Slime Row... A sound idea, I dare say.
Eventually, I finished explaining everything to Carme.
“You lost me towards the end, but I’m glad to see things are going smoothly. As long as you’re enjoying yourself.”
While I still had some concerns and hurdles I would have to clear, I got a good first impression, which was encouraging.
“Just don’t burn yourself out. That’s my only concern,” Carme said with a smile before returning to his work.
Once he’d left, I went through the remaining letters and began composing replies. Whenever I reached this step in the process, I couldn’t help but be reminded of how convenient emails were. Meeting people face to face would have been the quickest option to get things done, but all of my contacts seemed too busy to arrange anything. Ergo, it made sense to exchange letters that could be read at the individual’s convenience. Of course, then email came along, and with it, the ability to share such information instantaneously. It had been quite a while since I’d pined for a modern convenience like this...
■ ■ ■
The work day flew by. The sun was setting, and it was about time for us to close up shop.
“For you, sir!” Maria called from the front door.
“Let them in!”
Today I was visited by Pauline, the florist next door, Sieg, the butcher next door to her, their daughter Renny, and Rick, who was just a ball of energy.
“Hello, Ryoma...”
“Are you all right, Sieg? You seem like you’ve lost weight... And you look exhausted.”
“Heh... I’ve been busy lately, but it’s gotten better. The colder it gets, the less game there is for hunters... Pauline’s been helping me too.”
“Are the winters tough on flower shops as well?”
“Well, there are flowers that bloom in winter, not to mention ones I could force to bloom with magic. Those are more high-end property, though. So I barely get any customers... Thank you, Ryoma, for looking after them.”
“I’ll be joining you, so they’ll be safe with my employee.” I turned towards Maria, who had shown them in.
“It’s no trouble at all. We always babysat the younger ones in the village.”
“You’re a lifesaver, really. It wouldn’t have come to this if one of us could have taken care of it.”
“They said they required one representative per shop, so...”
Three days earlier, the day after my outing to the other side of the city, a letter had arrived courtesy of the Merchant’s Guild.
“The letter I got said that more shops are suffering attacks as crime increases in Gimul, and called for shop owners to gather and share information and solutions... It was signed ‘Gimul Union of Small Businesses.’ Is this a brand new organization?”
“That’d be my guess. We’ve never heard of it.”
“It’s true that crime has gone up... Maybe someone felt threatened enough to take action.”
It wasn’t rare for shop owners to congregate. Of course, there were certain qualifications the owners had to meet in order to attend, but seeing how we received the invitation, we could safely assume that we’d qualified.
I was a bit skeptical about the meeting after asking about the union at the guild and learning that they had no records of activity. It was a definite possibility that the current state of the city had someone feeling significantly endangered. Even the representative at the guild had said as much when I asked about them. Maybe I was just paranoid about this new organization...
■ ■ ■
I’d almost convinced myself of that until the moment I set foot into the large conference room of the Merchant’s Guild, populated by fifty or so decently dressed shop owners.
I shouldn’t be here.
It was instinctive. I was curious about the meeting and even hopeful for the opportunity of working together with local shopkeepers. But at this very moment, I seriously wanted to turn on my heels and walk out. The urge to do so rose with each passing second, when—
“Hello, Ryoma. Fancy seeing you here.”
“Huh? Oh, Darson!” Darson Digger, the owner of Digger’s Armory, a shop I frequented for my adventuring, had spotted me. “You decided to come too?”
“My place’s doing pretty good with everything going on. And...”
“Oh, this is Carme, my assistant manager. And these are Sieg and Pauline, the shopkeepers who operate next door to me.” In turn, I introduced Darson to the three of them.
There were business acquaintances of Darson’s, Sieg’s, or Pauline’s among those who overheard our introduction, and their introductions were overheard by more acquaintances...
“Pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about your shop.”
“I’ve always wanted to meet you! You run quite an impressive shop, especially for someone your age.”
“I’ve heard you have connections with the duke.”
“Wish I had your luck...”
“Shake his hand. Maybe that luck of his will rub off on you.”
Before I knew it, I was surrounded by a crowd of admiring shopkeepers. While I was working my way through them, a man entered the room.
“Thank you for your patience,” he announced. “We’re on time, so let’s get the conference started.”
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