Chapter 11
Chapter 11
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 11
Chapter Title: Rubis Merchant Group
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"What are those?"
The villagers threw a festival when they saw the various mushrooms and herb scraps I had gathered yesterday.
Their faces bloomed with long-lost smiles at the realization that they could pay taxes to the lord without relying on their lifeblood—potatoes and wheat.
And I didn't show the villagers the beast hides.
They were already curious about my identity since I wandered the forest alone, and if I pulled out magical beast hides on top of that, they would definitely shun me.
"Merchants?"
As I pondered my battle with the beast and honed my lacking swordsmanship on the wide-open cliffside, a group of wagons and people approached the village.
Even at a glance, there were over twenty wagons and more than fifty armed men—they had to be merchants and mercenaries.
"Merchants are coming!"
The cry rang out from someone keeping watch atop the village palisade.
'Oh, merchants, huh?'
Merchants from another world, something I'd only seen in novels.
Curiosity welled up inside me.
"I've finished today's work anyway, so shall I go take a look?"
Unlike the innocent villagers, the merchants and mercenaries knew a wider world.
Their arrival was welcome to me, as I was starting to prepare to venture out into that world.
"You dry on your own without me~"
They said hides needed to be staked, so I had rolled out the golden leopard hide on a small rocky spot atop the cliff.
Villagers couldn't reach this place, and surprisingly, the moment I appeared with the magical beast hide, all the bugs vanished, leaving the area in eerie silence.
It was clear proof of how notorious the beast had been for its habitual murders.
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'The mercenaries can't enter the village, huh.'
One sight greeted me as I descended the cliff.
Dozens of rough-looking mercenaries, clearly escorts for the merchants, sat comfortably in front of the village palisade.
And those mercenaries, each with a sword at their side, eyed me intently as I tried to enter the village.
"Hey, kid."
'Hey? K-kid?'
Most of the wagons the merchants had brought were empty. A few of the mercenaries who had escorted them, bored out of their minds, called me to a stop.
Having apparently lost all sense of fear.
"Hey, fellas, how's it going?"
You reap what you sow with words.
"Fellas? Puhahaha!"
"Krahaha!"
The mercenaries, most sporting worm-like scars across their faces and bodies like badges of honor.
Amused by my jab, they busied themselves baring their yellowed teeth in laughter.
'Snipe them each with a Firebolt?'
They were clearly third-rate mercenaries who worshipped thick skulls devoid of mana and brute strength alone.
If I put my mind to it, I could handle them in the time it takes to eat a meal.
"Young man, do you know how to use a sword?"
A man in his mid-thirties, who seemed the most decent among the mercenaries, approached while gesturing at my sword with his eyes.
"Can't you tell by looking?"
Their attitude rubbed me the wrong way, so I answered indifferently.
It wasn't like I, who lived by my own prowess, would feel good about being teased by these unskilled fools.
"You're a prickly young fellow. How about it? Instead of rotting in this backwater village, why not join our mercenary band? You look sturdy enough, and your eyes have some spirit."
'What? Is this that street casting I'd only heard about?'
The man suddenly offered me a spot in his mercenary band.
His honest eyes suggested it wasn't a lie.
"Captain, when are we gonna train a greenhorn like that?"
"Even if our Black Wyvern Mercenary Band gets treated like third-raters, taking in kids is..."
'Black Wyvern Mercenary Band? You guys?'
They were clearly a sparrow band stuck at third-rate, but their name was grandiose.
"No thanks."
"No? Better than farming in this dump till you croak, right? Live like a man as a mercenary."
"Not really appealing. Especially looking at that beer-gut uncle over there."
I kindly pointed at the mercenary who had first picked a fight with me.
"Krahaha! Ron, the kid doesn't like your gut."
"Kekeke, the great Ron dissed by a kid—don't eat a thing starting today. Waste of food~!"
Bored out of their minds, the mercenaries teased the one called Ron and had a grand old time.
"Y-you little brat!"
True to mercenary stereotype of idiocy, Ron flew off the handle at the slight jab.
His massive frame with its jiggling belly and the crude axe he wielded exuded real menace.
"Beer-gut uncle."
I called out to Ron, who was quietly fuming with his bull-like glaring eyes.
"What, you ill-mannered little punk!"
He seemed less savage than expected, just huffing and puffing.
"Watch out on the night roads."
"..."
Leaving Ron frozen at my quiet warning, I turned and headed inside the village palisade.
"Hahahahaha!"
"Oof! Oof! I'm dying! Krahahahaha!"
The mercenaries' belly-laughing parade echoed behind me.
Third-rate mercenaries who might not even get hired if they begged on their knees.
Their antics were right on brand.
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'The whole village is gathered.'
There was one reason the merchants and mercenaries had come to this village.
To trade. Three men who looked like merchants were talking with the village chief and the villagers in front of the village square.
"You're not selling grain? Chief, say that again."
"Sigh, why make my mouth sore? We have no grain to give the caravan this year."
The chief, banking on the mushrooms, stood with hands behind his back, pretending nonchalance.
"But what about our caravan? We spent 10 gold hiring those mercenaries."
"That's your problem. Last year you haggled us down so hard we had to sell our last cow and donkey to pay taxes. And now the same prices as last year... Nothing more to say."
'Oh ho, those are the vicious Daron Merchant Group guys?'
The cruel merchants who made even kind Yans curse, as per the tax talk.
They had lowered grain prices every year since no other caravans came after the disaster ten years ago.
Moreover, if they sold to the Daron group, the merchants handled tax payments to the viscount directly, so no need to haul potatoes or grain ourselves.
But the problem was their excessive profiteering.
At some point, they started buying up the villagers' hoarded grain at absurdly low prices while everyone starved.
'These must be the kind of merchants who sucked the commoners dry back in Joseon times.'
The merchants looked sleazy at first glance, fat and greasy.
"I don't know what you're banking on, but... this puts you in a tough spot, right? If you don't pay taxes by month's end, you'll all be sold as serfs... Heh heh heh."
The leader of the merchants slowly revealed his true colors.
His bald pate, oily face slick with dog grease, and tiny invisible eyes made him the picture of a villainous merchant.
"Hmph! We'll pay the taxes!"
Abes the chief puffed out his chest with bravado, as if his rough youth wasn't a lie.
Unlike the anxious villagers, the chief exuded confidence.
"Last chance! You really won't hand over wheat and potatoes? Remember, no caravan will come to this backwater if we leave today!"
The flustered merchant didn't forget to threaten.
"Do as you like. Deal's off, so get out. Jacob the captain, see the guests off politely."
"Yes, Chief!"
Jacob the tall, sturdy village watch captain answered energetically.
'Cool~!'
The chief went hard, like venting all the past grievances against caravans.
"Y-you'll see!"
Frightened by the approaching armed watchmen, the merchants spat threats and fled outside.
'Watching this clears my chest.'
The unknown merchant left with a vicious parting shot.
I had a feeling there'd be fallout, but I wasn't too worried.
'Heh heh, tomorrow's finally here.'
Yans and I were set to head to the viscount's castle, two days' walk away, to pay taxes.
Clatter clatter.
And the merchants' wagons departed.
Come empty-handed, leave empty-handed.
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"We're here. That's Piyor Castle, where the lord resides."
The lord's castle, two days' walk away.
Carrying mushrooms for taxes, two blankets, and simple provisions, Yans and I arrived at the castle.
It used to take at least twenty armed villagers to make the trip, but since no one doubted my skills anymore, we came alone in peace.
'Amazing!'
A sturdy castle built from massive boulders without cranes or heavy machinery.
Even for a provincial lord's castle, it towered over seven meters with watchtowers everywhere—a classic medieval fortress.
"Kaiyer, watch your words here. Commoners like us can die for a single wrong phrase."
Yans, big but timid, warned me.
'Commoner... Sigh, so I'm a commoner.'
This world's civilization, worlds apart from the 21st century.
Realizing anew that I was a commoner left me speechless.
"Let's go in."
Bigger than the Eastern European castles I'd seen on a school trip.
Mingling with the crowds coming and going, Yans and I reached the gates.
"Halt! Where you from?"
Archers with bows and dozens of armed soldiers watched from the walls, while a dozen guards at the gate inspected passersby for suspects.
"Much obliged. We're from Luna Village, here to pay taxes."
"Luna Village? Ah! That village that burned down ten years ago."
I'd hoped to see some knights, but the gate guards were just regular soldiers in chain mail with halberds.
One who seemed the senior spoke with Yans.
"Here's the village token."
Yans presented the token representing Luna Village.
"Good enough. Pass."
He glanced indifferently at the round token Yans offered and waved us through.
With so many people passing, they couldn't hold just us.
'That armor slays!'
Even the regular soldiers' plain armor gleamed in the sun from good oiling, drawing gasps of admiration.
"Wait!"
As I followed Yans inside, marveling, a soldier called us.
"W-what is it, sir?"
Yans asked hurriedly in typical commoner fashion.
"This one from your village too? Black hair's rare..."
The soldier eyed my face intently—tanned to look like a full villager from months in the sun.
"Uh, well..."
True to his honest nature, Yans hesitated awkwardly.
"Haha, much obliged. Should've greeted you sooner, but your imposing figures left me speechless. Name's Kaiyer."
I bowed politely with a smile.
'Damn it, bowing my head to mere soldiers when I'm not even facing the lord!'
A world where status said everything.
Still just a commoner, I had to taste the bottom rung.
"Kaiyer? Nice name. Alright, pass."
As the proverb goes, you can't spit on a smiling face—I'd been so courteous he bowed his head and shouted to pass.
'This ain't a money world; status rules all! Gotta at least become a knight.'
Not even a certification, but I resolved to become a knight.
I couldn't keep bowing my head like a rusty hinge as a commoner forever.
"Much obliged, sirs."
I shouted loudly, leading Yans who carried the mushrooms on his back.
'No good. If I trust Yans, we won't pay taxes and end up in jail.'
Reliable, kind, pure farmer Yans in the village—but in the city, he was untrustworthy.
His dopey look screamed runaway teen fresh off the bus to Seoul.
"Come on, Yans."
"Y-yeah, alright."
Yans followed, arm in my lead.
Thus, I entered a castle on Master’s homeland continent, Kalian, for the first time.
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'This is where the merchants gather, right?'
Few villagers had ever seen the castle—only the chief and a handful, including Yans, who was losing his mind now that he was back after ages.
Especially at the sight of buxom women shaking their hips.
'Driving me nuts.'
How could such a guy sell mushrooms for taxes and buy village goods?
I could only shake my head at the chief's shortsighted choice.
"Yans..."
"Yeah? What's up?"
"Wipe your drool."
"S-sorry. Been so long, I'm out of it."
Not out of it from time away—more like entranced by the clean, flashy-dressed women.
"Now we'll sell the mushrooms. Don't say a word; just stand quietly beside me."
"You? Got it."
He nodded obediently, knowing his place.
Good that he listened.
"Hand me one mushroom."
"Why? S-surely not selling here?"
Shops lined the way past the gates.
A huge alley packed with hammering blacksmiths, clothiers, food stalls, daily goods—perfect for selling.
'Can't trust these merchants. Only way: price competition.'
Sharif mushrooms were rare and hard to find, I'd heard.
Especially ours: top quality.
No reason for me, the seller, to feel shortchanged.
'Wish it was a bigger city, but this'll do fine.'
"Ahem!"
I cleared my throat, gathering my thoughts.
"Come one, come all! Not an everyday chance! Fresh top-grade Sharif mushrooms just picked from clean-air, clear-water Luna Village!"
Like in dramas, I climbed onto a knee-high rock and belted it out.
"Sh-Sharif mushrooms?"
"For real?"
Passersby who first eyed me like a madman widened their eyes at "Sharif mushrooms."
"W-where, Sharif mushrooms?!"
"Oh! Top quality!"
When I held up a brown, fist-sized round mushroom from Yans, people gathered, gasping in awe.
"Whoa, the aroma!"
"Gods, so plump."
Villagers said nobles alone ate them for their aroma and taste. Onlookers smacked lips at the genuine scent wafting from the Sharif mushrooms.
'Brought about 70 Sharif mushrooms today. At 2 gold each... heh heh heh.'
Few among the crowd could afford them.
But seeing a few hurry off after spotting my Sharif mushrooms, I had no doubt real buyers would come soon.
"Rare Sharif mushrooms you might never taste! Top-grade ones, auction starting at just 2 gold! Don't miss this chance!"
"2-2 gold!"
"Cheap! That size would leave leftovers..."
Like truffles in Korea, locals knew Sharif mushrooms' value.
Things were going smoothly as planned.
'Huh? Those guys?'
Amid the commoners rushed merchants in trader garb.
Among them, familiar faces from the Daron Merchant Group.
They'd fled the village like cowards, now here in the castle.
'Taste some dirty vibes today! Kek.'
A wicked thought crossed my mind.
Sharif mushrooms weren't easy for merchants to buy with money.
I'd found them easily, but they were truly rare.
Especially those picked under Ruena's Moon, when all avoided travel—top of the top.
"Picked risking life in the mountains under Ruena's Moon! Good crowd now, so auction starts! This one in my hand: starting at 1 gold for the first!"
With a dozen money-scented merchants gathered, I oiled my voice and raised the mushroom high.
'Ah, upbringing matters!'
From elementary school, occasional survival missions from parents.
In case of accident, I'd sell mom-made kimbap at subway entrances or parks.
Not just kimbap—unneeded home goods turned to cash for family aid.
Those missions let me reach merchant-hypnotizing mastery.
"2 gold, mine!"
'Yes! Good start!'
One merchant amid the riffraff bid 2 gold.
"3 gold, mine!"
"4 gold! Sell to me!"
Not the start—merchants went wild, upping bids by 1 gold each.
'1 gold that worthless?'
1 gold fed a family luxuriously for a month, I'd heard.
Decent value by my math, but merchants treated money like dirt.
"7 gold, mine!"
A familiar voice amid the frenzy.
'Kid, feel the burn proper.'
"Sold! To that merchant over there for 4 gold!"
"Wh-what!"
"Gasp!"
The smug fat Daron merchant's face froze beautifully at the gavel.
"Relax, folks~! Plenty more! Pay that gentleman there and claim if it sells quick!"
Lost 3 gold, but worth it for the sleazy merchant's twisted mug.
"Next!"
Yans pulled out another at my word.
"From now, ten at a time!"
Who said business is like candy-selling—do as you please.
"Top-grade Sharif mushrooms, ten for 20 gold start!"
"25 gold!"
"30 gold!"
"35 gold!"
Sane pricing, and merchants foamed again, fingers flying.
"70 gold!"
For some reason, the Daron pig bidding over 7 per.
"Anyone? 50 gold for ten!"
"50 gold! Mine!"
Ignoring the Daron pig, I found another bidder—a sleek merchant called 50.
"Sold! Ten to that slim gentleman there!"
"You bastard!"
'Huh? Bastard?'
Heat rising, the fat Daron pointed at me, calling me bastard.
"Did you just say 'bastard'?"
Not one for nice talk.
"A mere commoner ignoring the Daron Merchant Group!"
"So you're a commoner too? And when did I ignore you?"
The pig spat foam, face beet red.
"Th-then why not sell at my bid?"
"Oh, that? What can I do? My ears only hear human speech."
"Wh-what?!"
The pig's face went from red to purple, lid about to blow.
"And unhappy with my price? Then go pick 'em yourself in the beast-infested mountains."
Finish the kill proper.
I dug my ear, devastating the pig's mood.
"Y-you'll see! Grrr!"
His gritted teeth rang clear in my ears from the grudge.
"Sure, whatever. Busy today, so next time. Got it?"
Teased him like a neighborhood kid.
'Kid, you're set on hating now.'
Older than me by far, but worth comes from being human.
The pig glared blue murder and vanished.
"I'll take all remaining Sharif mushrooms at 8 gold each."
'8 gold? Jackpot?'
As I smiled warmly at the huffing departing pig, a jackpot voice hit my ear.
"Th-the Rubis Merchant Group."
"Tch, we're done for today."
'Rubis Merchant Group?'
Kalian continent full of things to learn.
A clean-cut noble youth in his early thirties appeared to my eyes.
Other merchants smacked lips and backed off at his arrival.
"Rubis—one of the Continent's Five Great Merchant Groups, right?"
"Even comes to our territory. Wild."
Onlookers who'd watched the fun mushroom auction buzzed among themselves.
'Continent's Five Great? Big corp, huh?'
Now that they mentioned, the man seemed to glow.
"I'm Jamer of the Rubis Merchant Group."
If the Daron pig was sleazy merchant poster boy, this handshake-offering Jamer was upright merchant incarnate.
"Kaiyer."
"Kaiyer? Suits your unique black hair."
'Ugh! Dong-gun hyung who?'
Jamer, my height.
Golden curls, calm light-purple eyes alluring; sunken eye sockets, high nose—handsome enough.
"Not great talking here. Come to my inn."
"Sure. But I'm hungry, so buy me a meal!"
"Buy? Haha! Deal. My treat."
Early thirties, but Jamer showed makings of a great merchant.
"Yans, let's go."
"Huh? Uh, yeah."
Yans, still clueless on the happenings, nodded dazedly and hurried after.