Duck Commotion (1)
The liquors that came out of Dunbrook Island spread like wildfire among the mercenaries. “If we’re going to drink anyway, helping the kids out isn’t a bad idea, right?” “Whoever came up with this is pretty clever.” “Tsk. I wonder how my daughter’s doing. Once this job’s over, I should probably turn down any long-term commissions for a while.” Some drank to feel a fleeting sense of pride, others out of simple kindness toward children they’d never met, and still others while thinking of someone precious to them. They emptied the Dunbrook distillery’s stock one bottle at a time.
“Doesn’t taste half bad.” “It’s decent enough. And the price isn’t outrageous either.” “Innkeeper, another bottle over here!” “Coming right up!”
It was the moment the empire’s first attempt at cause marketing succeeded.
“Teacher! Teacher! They sold out!” The village chief and Ben’s father, who had gone to the mainland to gauge the reaction, burst into Patrick’s house with flushed faces. “All three crates of liquor sold out in just two nights!” “Oh… is that a lot?” “Of course it is! It’s the first time our distillery has moved that much stock at once since we opened!”
Ben’s father fidgeted, then bowed his head deeply. “I’m already grateful you made Ben a Spiritist, and now you’re helping us like this… I don’t even know how to thank you properly.” The village chief looked at the two of them with equal emotion. Patrick, however, was far from pleased.
…The scale was smaller than I thought. It was good that the strategy had worked, but seeing them this excited over just three crates of liquor felt underwhelming. Tsk. I thought we might hit the jackpot, but of course not. Things never went that smoothly. Patrick clicked his tongue in disappointment.
“Thanks to this, we’ll have something to do even if we can’t harvest oysters in the summer. We’ve decided to increase the supply of sweet potatoes and grapes for raw materials.” “Ah, is that so?” “Yes. Expanding the grape vineyard right now would be difficult, but sweet potatoes can still be planted even if it’s a bit tight.” “I see.” “We’re also planning to hire two more employees at the distillery this year.”
Ben’s father chimed in as well. It seemed the original goal of circulating money through the village had been achieved, at least to some degree. Well, brewing does require a lot of labor. After all, the distillery produced soju, wine, and even a bit of beer. Even if production was small now, scaling it up would mean a significant increase in needed hands. At this rate, the whole village might start smelling like alcohol.
Just as his expression was about to sour, Ben’s father slid a pouch toward him. “This is your share, sir. It’s not much yet, so I’m sorry it’s so little…” What’s this? “Hurry up and take the emergency fund!” Ah, his words and thoughts had flipped in an instant. “Heh heh. Actually, we were planning to give this first profit to you instead of the children.” “That’s right, Teacher! You should be comfortable first!”
Despite Patrick’s slip of the tongue, the two men repeatedly urged him to use the earnings for himself rather than the kids. “No, it was a joke. Haha! Of course this should be used for the children’s dreams…” But even the most shameless person hesitates when the stage is set. If they’re going to hand it over anyway, might as well take it. A sigh escaped him at their innocence. Still, the water was already spilled. Patrick peered into the pouch, his hands trembling with regret, and summoned unprecedented willpower to decide how to spend the money for the children.
“…For now… books would be good.” “Books?” “Yes. Since more profits will keep coming in, we can get individual things for each child later. Right now, books are urgent. They can all stumble through reading now, but there’s nothing for them to actually read.” In a world where illiteracy wasn’t a flaw, books were naturally a luxury for the upper class. Not only were they expensive, but bookstores were hard to find outside major cities.
“Ben mentioned you’ve written quite a few books yourself.” “I just put down stories I already knew on paper. We still need proper books.” The two men nodded at Patrick’s words. After earning money, Patrick had bought plenty of paper and adapted old fairy tales and children’s stories—Snow White, The Three Little Pigs, The Ugly Duckling—into teaching materials. He made them a bit more stimulating, a bit more realistic. The children, excited by stories they’d never heard before, went home and retold them to their parents, raising Patrick’s standing in the village once again—though he himself remained unaware.
Since the teacher who could write such impressive stories so effortlessly had spoken, the two men had no choice but to agree. “Then how many books should we bring back?” “I’d like you to get as many history books, biographies of great figures, and folk tales as this money will allow…” Patrick handed over the entire pouch with visibly reluctant hands. He’d considered keeping a few silver coins, but pride wouldn’t let him. I’m definitely skimming the next profit!
After the two left, Patrick collapsed onto the wooden bench in a state of inexplicable exhaustion, staring blankly at the ceiling. “Teacher?” Ben’s small head suddenly appeared in his vision. Still unwilling to get up, Patrick only moved his mouth. “What. I’m not in the mood to play today, so scram.” “It’s not that. I thought you might be interested.” “Not interested.” “You haven’t even heard what it is.” “Whatever it is, I’m not interested.”
At Patrick’s indifferent reply, several children spoke up to Ben. “See? I told you Teacher wouldn’t go. Let’s just go by ourselves!” “Still, I thought he’d like it. They’re even offering pay.” “…Brats, hold on.” “Yes?” “Pay?” “We have to pull weeds from the wheat field.” “It’s usually the adults’ job, but everyone’s busy this year, so they’re short on hands.” “They also have to harvest oysters, catch fish, and plant more sweet potatoes, right?” “Yeah. My dad even said he wanted to catch a goblin and make it work.” “Forget that. Are they actually giving pay or not?”
Amid the children’s rambling, the only thing that caught Patrick’s attention was the opportunity to earn pocket money. “They said they’d pay!” “Even kids like us?” “We’re good at pulling weeds too!” “Yeah. We did it a lot when things got busy. Usually they gave us snacks, but this year they’re giving money instead.” “It’s the village chief’s wheat field. He said if we help out, we can save up the pay and buy what we need!”
Changes were appearing now that the children could read and write, and the villagers’ wallets had some breathing room. The village chief, who was even more devoted to the children’s education than Patrick, seemed to want to give them pocket money under the pretext of helping with chores. “Can I go too?” “You can’t just pull anything!” “You have to drink plenty of water in between. If you collapse again, we’ll get in trouble.” “I got it already. Let’s go!” Patrick didn’t seem the least bit embarrassed, even if anyone else might have been.
“Eh? Teacher, you’re already done after this little bit and resting?” “Does it look like I’m resting? This is a survival break.” “If you do one row and rest, then another row and rest, when are you ever going to finish?” “I’ll do it all night, why?” “You’re really bad at this.” “Take this, Wind!” Whoosh! “Kyaaahaha!” “Teacher, over here too! Blow some wind here, it’s hot!”
While acting as a human fan and wiping sweat in the corner of the wheat field, Patrick was seriously contemplating something. Should I just go home? He’d thought pulling weeds couldn’t be that hard if even the kids were doing it, but this was truly not something humans were meant to do. “Aigoo, my back…” Since the children were short, Patrick had to bend almost at a right angle as he moved between the wheat stalks, and a strong premonition struck him. If he kept this up much longer, he’d be on the express train straight to a herniated disc.
“Damn world. No herbicides either?” They could produce fire and water from their hands, so why wasn’t there any weed-killing medicine? I don’t get it. While grumbling, Patrick continued sending occasional breezes to keep the children cool when he heard a series of quacking sounds. “What’s that noise?” “Ducks the village chief’s family is raising. They brought them in recently.” “Ducks? Why?” “Probably to raise them for meat or to sell.” “…Hmph, right?”
The children, used to livestock rather than pets, gave a matter-of-fact answer. But that wasn’t what mattered. I saw on variety shows that they let ducks loose in rice paddies to remove weeds. Paddies or fields, it’s probably the same thing, right? Since this wheat field belonged to the village chief and the ducks were also his, it should work. Patrick’s hesitation was brief and his action swift, since he didn’t want to move his body unnecessarily.
“Is the lady of the house in?” He’d already heard from the children that the village chief had gone to the sweet potato field, so after finishing his conversation with the chief’s wife, Patrick— “If it’s something the teacher says, it must be right, ho ho!” As one of Patrick’s most ardent followers, the chief’s wife handed over the ducklings with a light heart, thinking, Since he’s from the capital, he must know what he’s doing.
Quack quack quack quack— “They’re cute!” “They’re faster than I thought, huh?” “Yeah. Look at that! They’re really eating the weeds!” “Do they eat bugs too? Then we really don’t have to catch pests either?” “Ooh— Our teacher must know a lot about farming too.” “Isn’t it just a lucky guess?”
Some children still looked doubtful, but just as Patrick had expected, the ducklings darted between the wheat stalks like fish in water, gobbling up weeds and insects. “This is why you need to study, got it?” “Wow! Does stuff like this come from books too?” “Wouldn’t it?”
While leisurely sipping water and saying things he couldn’t possibly take responsibility for, one of the children spoke up. “But Teacher.” “What?” “How are we supposed to catch the ducks later?” “Is there magic to call ducks?” “Or do we use a whistle or something?” “Ah, is that it?” At the children’s words, Patrick’s face turned pale. “……” “……It’s not, is it?” Seeing Patrick’s changed expression, Ben poked him in the side as if to say, Don’t joke around.
“……What do we do?” Quack quack quack— The ducks’ quacking was already growing faint. “Agh, seriously! Kids, catch the ducks!” “Don’t let them get away, grab them quick!” “Seriously, why is he like this!” The one who wanted to cry the most was Patrick himself. What happens to my pay then? If he’d just stayed still, it would’ve been zero, but now he’d caused trouble and was about to go into the negatives.