The Village Hall's First Paid Classes
The Village Hall's first attempt at paid classes.
"Um, is it really okay for someone like me without even my own workshop to teach people?"
"It's fine, it's fine. This isn't a world that runs on certificates anyway. It's not the 21st century, obsessed with degrees and qualifications. What matters is whether you have knowledge worth teaching."
"Still, it has to be worth at least the minimum value of your labor, so if we don't get three people, we'll cancel the class."
"N-no, I refuse!"
"What? Why are you shouting all of a sudden?"
"If even one person is willing to pay to learn something from someone like me, then I want to, I want to hold the class!"
"Do what you want. Then I won't take a fee for up to two people."
"......A fee?"
"You're renting the classroom at the Village Hall. You have to pay the venue rental fee. Don't tell me you were planning to use it for free?"
"Ah......! Of course, managing the Village Hall's facility fees and other incidental income is Patrick's job."
"Hoho. I'm grateful you're taking on such a troublesome task. Since we've received the Village Chief's permission, no one will stop us."
'With this, I've filled my own pockets......'
Even skipping lunch to work, he didn't feel hungry. Thinking about how much richer this Village Hall would make his life only strengthened that feeling.
"So we're having class here now?"
"Yeah. A proper classroom, right?"
"Wow! This is exciting!"
The children were already running into the classroom, sitting at desks, discussing which flowers to plant in the garden patch, and giggling. Unlike Patrick's house beyond the hill, the Village Hall was right in the village, so some children brought their younger siblings or let their puppies run free.
"Should we build a playground while we're at it?"
"A playground?"
Maksim, who had been roped into teaching beekeeping, sidled over and asked.
"Ah, yes. Iron would be expensive, so that might be difficult, but if we just gather fine sand without any rocks, I think the kids would still love it. There's a big tree, so we could probably hang a swing pretty quickly. And if we built a small hut, the children would really enjoy that too...... Ah, of course, only if we have the resources. Haha."
"A playground...... I'll bring it up with the youth group. It doesn't sound like it would be too difficult."
Maksim smiled softly. Thinking of the child soon to be born, he felt it would be good for the village to have such facilities for the little ones. Children could play anywhere with just a stick, but having their own space would make them so happy.
"Thank you. I'll help too. When it comes to digging the ground and hauling water, no one does it better than me."
At Patrick's joke, Maksim burst out laughing. Then he asked carefully, "But, Teacher. Do you really think I can do this well?"
"Of course."
"I haven't been able to sleep at night lately. Even though they're neighbors I've known my whole life, I've never imagined teaching anyone......"
"As I said before, don't overthink it. The goal of the Village Hall's resident education isn't to create experts. Just think of it as opening the floodgates so that people can comfortably share the knowledge they have, whenever and with whoever."
Even in the 21st century, where people were accustomed to all kinds of education, many would hesitate at the thought of standing on a podium to lecture. Needless to say, the people of this world were no different. Maksim, who had lived his entire life as a fisherman, farmer, and sometimes beekeeper, had never even imagined he would one day give a "lecture" to someone.
'Still, I have to make him do it. Only then will others feel comfortable taking on the role of instructor when sharing their own know-how in the future.'
That was why Patrick had deliberately chosen Maksim as the island's first instructor. Maksim was young. Beekeeping wasn't even his main job. Through this class, people would realize that "an instructor doesn't have to be some great figure" and that "you don't need to be a master craftsman—if you just know a little more than others, you can teach."
"Th-then, if I just relax my mind......!"
"Not you. You have to do it properly."
"......B-but......!"
"You're the professional here. This is in a completely different category from Maksim's beekeeping."
Josh, who had butted in for no reason and gained nothing, sulked. If Maksim's class was bait to encourage villagers to share their skills, Josh's situation was different.
'This has to connect directly to income.'
He had already planned the next steps. After students took basic dyeing or sewing classes, he'd hand them plain cloth for practice dyeing, then sell the finished pieces in the city!
'It doesn't have to be a lot of money. Everyone starts small like this.'
A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. Looking at the Village Hall, still under repair, Patrick trembled with pride.
***
The Village Hall's day began swiftly.
"Five, six, seven, eight! Good work today!"
"Good work!"
"Well done!"
Once the morning exercise commands ended, the elders gathered in small groups to chat.
"Should we have lunch at the Village Hall later?"
"Sounds good! I've got some beef tripe I can bring."
"Then how about a drink too?"
"No need to say it twice! Hoho!"
"Tsk, save the drinking for another day! There's a dyeing class today. You can't drink and then attend class!"
"Then just don't drink!"
"Hmph, you heartless people!"
The elders who had once grumbled about wasting precious building materials now quietly came by to spend time at the completed Village Hall. After breakfast, the children joined the elders, flocking to the Village Hall as well.
"Grandma! Grandpa!"
"Oh my, here to study?"
"Yes! The teacher hasn't arrived yet, right?"
"No, they're running a bit late."
"They're always late!"
"Keh keh. What kind of manners are those toward your teacher, you rascal!"
Soon, young adults began arriving one or two at a time for their classes, each heading to their respective classrooms.
"Waaah! Waaah!"
"There, there, baby. Don't cry. Shh, good child......"
"Emily, leave the baby here and hurry to class."
"Elder!"
"I've raised six children myself. I've got twenty grandchildren. I'm much better at watching babies than you are, Emily, so don't you worry."
"Thank you, Elder! Just for an hour, please!"
"Hoho. No need to thank me."
The elders spending time at the Village Hall helped ease the burden on young mothers who might otherwise have to skip classes because of their babies. They also took care of meals.
"The children will need lunch after class, won't they?"
"I'll prepare it today, so don't worry about it."
They even handled lunch for Patrick and the children.
'It's running smoothly.'
People were much the same everywhere. Even if it was a space with a new purpose, once built, everyone adapted quickly and things fell into place.
"......The Village Hall is the best."
This wasn't just the thrill of biting into a thick chicken leg dripping with oil alongside freshly baked white bread slathered in fig jam.
"Should we set up a cooking class too?"
"If something like that opens up, I might want to try being an instructor. Can an old person like me do it, Teacher?"
"Of course, Elder!"
Alright, the next class was already taking shape.
"So, cooking class, fishing secrets, survival swimming, and......"
"I heard there'll be basic woodworking too."
"Ah, right. Basic woodworking!"
Ben chimed in while chewing on chicken breast. Recruiting Maksim had been the right choice. After attending the beekeeping class, villagers began thinking, "I could probably do that too." Having grown accustomed to "studying" through night school and gaining confidence from escaping illiteracy, combined with a sense of community—"I can do something for our village too"—had led to a line of volunteers.
'It helped that this is a small island village where everyone lives like family.'
In his previous life, this would have been impossible. In an apartment building where neighbors didn't even know each other's names, ages, or faces, the idea of "wouldn't it be nice if we all lived well together?" rarely took root.
"This island seems different every time I come!"
A now-familiar voice called from outside the Village Hall. It was the soldiers.
"Has it already been a month? Time really flies."
Though surprised by the unexpected faces, Patrick's feet carried him steadily out to greet them. Maintaining good relations with the soldiers was essential.
"Soldiers!"
"Oh, Mage!"
The senior soldier kept glancing around, his eyes filled with anticipation as he looked at Patrick.
'What's with him?'
He looked exactly like an older sister who had just come back from the hair salon, casually flipping her hair and waiting for compliments.
"......Your skin looks a bit better......?"
There, take that and be satisfied. When Patrick casually brought it up, the soldier's face lit up as expected.
"You think so too, Mage! Hahaha! With my skin looking this good, everyone says I look five years younger! Lately, people mistake me for a rookie wherever I go, and it's been causing all sorts of trouble at work. Hahat!"
"Ah, yes......"
Looking at the junior soldiers standing behind him, they seemed to have their own share of hardships.
"So, um, I was wondering if you've made anything new...... Ah! Of course, we've bought up all the products from the Oren Merchant Group, but anything that hasn't been released yet......?"
"Haha, I'll prepare some for you before you leave. I made a few new things, though not many."
"As expected! Coming all the way here was worth it!"
The senior soldier had become a full-fledged otherworld version of a grooming enthusiast.
"First, could you sign here...... Yes, thank you, Mage."
After stamping the usual "The convict is safely in exile" document for the month, the senior soldier spoke again.
"Have you heard the news?"
"Pardon?"
"The trial of the high-ranking mages from the tower where you used to be."
"No, not at all."
The only people who brought him outside news were the Village Chief, Oren, and these soldiers. How would he know?
"Could it be a false accusation?"
He asked with a hint of hope. If those old geezers had been falsely accused, what would happen to him?
'Would I be released? Then I'd have to go back to the tower? Why? I want to stay here!'
He had only just broken ground on his own paradise, and now he was supposed to return to that tower where he spent his days cleaning?
'Hiss— Then I'm done for.'
Cold sweat trickled down his back, like an office worker being told to return to work after a holiday. But the others seemed to interpret his reaction differently. Pity filled the soldiers' eyes.
"I'm sorry to bring you this news, but...... they all confessed."
"......What?"
"They really did dabble in black magic. They were apparently trying to find a way to restore magic's weakening power, or something like that."
The soldiers continued speaking, but Patrick only half-listened. There was only one thing that mattered to him.
'So I can stay here?'
His rural life was secure! Ah, the world truly helped those who worked hard!
"Would you like some honey tea?"
"Pardon?"
"On the rocks!"
Crack— Having succeeded in making the ice even thicker with his slightly stronger magic, Patrick handed the soldiers cups filled with frost.