The Carrot Market
Carrot, carrot. (1) Phone? None. Delivery? None either. How are you supposed to do Danggeun without a phone or delivery? Even in the days when those things didn’t exist, Danggeun markets were everywhere. ‘A bit analog, sure, but that’s part of the charm.’
Patrick hauled a handcart out of the warehouse and began loading it with goods.
“It’s the teacher!”
“What’s he doing?”
“Yeah, what?”
The children who had been building sandcastles in the playground beside the Village Hall noticed Patrick setting something up and came running with excited shouts. They abandoned the broken pots and ladles the adults had given them for play and swarmed over.
“Don’t get in the way.”
“We’re just watching!”
“What’s all this?”
“Are you cooking? The kitchen’s over there.”
Patrick spread a large cloth across the front yard of the Village Hall, laid out the produce he had brought in the cart, and wrote a few numbers on pieces of wood.
“I’m not cooking. I’m selling.”
“Selling?”
“That’s right. Want to buy some yourselves?”
Free of prejudice as always, Patrick even tried hawking to the children, pointing at an old pumpkin. “Do you know how delicious it is when you scoop out the inside and make porridge with it?”
“Oh my! What’s all this, Teacher?”
Just then, a group of women who had finished Josh’s dyeing class took an interest in Patrick’s stall.
“These are from my own garden. I had too much. Haha. I thought someone might need them, so I brought them out. If you buy now, I’ll throw in plenty of extras. Take a look!”
With his usual easygoing manner he added, “How about some spinach? If you put it on pizza and bake it with a drizzle of oil, it’s really something special.”
“M-Mage! I want to buy this! Please sell it to me!”
“Josh?”
Surprisingly, the first person to open their wallet was not one of the housewives worrying about dinner, but Josh.
“Why are you still on the island?”
Patrick was grateful for the first sale, but why was this guy still here?
“The tailor said he’d be staying until autumn, didn’t he? Didn’t you hear?” Ben asked Patrick, sounding baffled that he didn’t know something even the children knew.
‘Because once I got my clothes I stopped paying attention.’ Who could like a gloomy fellow who kept muttering “frills… lace…” with sparkling eyes every time he took measurements?
“He looks perfectly normal when he’s just standing there, so why does he go crazy the moment he starts making clothes? …Ah, sorry. I meant to say that in my head. Anyway, you’re buying all of this?”
“……Yes……”
Josh, who normally had plenty to say, could only purse his lips like a mouse before a cat whenever he stood in front of Patrick. No matter how ill-tempered the wizard was, the moment Josh saw that face his inspiration and artistic spirit caught fire. There was nothing he could do about it. Like a thirsty man digging a well, he had to stay close.
‘I’ll finish two sketchbooks by autumn and open my own shop! My atelier, my atelier!’
That was why he remained on this empty island. Fortunately, making a living wasn’t a problem. When he had first arrived he had worried about what he would do, but after the Village Hall was built he somehow ended up teaching a fabric-dyeing class. As he taught enthusiastic students, the number of classes he was asked to lead kept growing. Now Josh was in charge of four classes in total: Basic Dyeing, Advanced Dyeing, Natural Pigments, and Textile Design. The villagers had been a little hesitant at first, but once they realized these were skills they could use for a long time and might even turn into a good side income, they paid the tuition without complaint. It was all thanks to money beginning to circulate in the village.
Patrick, however, still looked puzzled.
“You really want to buy this? The Village Hall serves meals, you know.”
“It does, but… I feel bad always eating for free, and sometimes I want to cook what I actually feel like eating. On weekends I crave snacks, and at night I want a late-night bite……”
“Ah, that kind of thing? Then how about some spices too? Seasonings and the like?”
“Do you have any?”
“Of course. I’ll bring them later, so come back after your classes are over.”
“P-Please. Thank you for selling to me!”
With Josh’s extended stay, support from the Oren Merchant Group had stopped. The villagers weren’t heartless enough to suddenly cut off the meals they had been providing, though.
‘Well, it must have been a burden for him to keep receiving free food.’
Seeing that Josh refused free meals, Patrick figured the man wasn’t that desperate yet and turned his attention to attracting more customers.
“I’ve got beets and turnips. You know I’m the only one on the island growing these, right? Boil the beets and make a rabe with them—how delicious is that?”
Imitating the cooking researcher from his previous life with great enthusiasm, Patrick once again drew the women’s attention.
“You can also slice them raw and eat them in a salad. They help prevent anemia and boost immunity, that sort of thing.”
Most vegetables supposedly had such effects. Patrick tended to spout claims he couldn’t back up, but the listeners filtered what they heard appropriately. By now, half a year had passed since Patrick arrived on Dunbrook Island, and the villagers had grown accustomed to his personality.
“Hoho! Then I suppose I’ll buy some. I heard they use this to color bread and noodles on the mainland.”
“Beets? You have beets?”
“What, you left and came back again?”
“I use beets for dyeing fabric too. Hmm— I’ll take everything here.”
“Oh dear, if that’s the case you should have said so earlier! Want me to wrap it up for you? Never mind, I’ll bring it to your lodging later.”
Josh, who had been heading home with his purchases, suddenly turned back and made another large purchase.
“No need. I’ll be using them for the dyeing class, so I can just carry them straight to the classroom right here. I can manage.”
Business was all about momentum. One customer drew another, and a crowd attracted real buyers with open wallets. Once the first sales were made, people passing by the Village Hall each bought a bundle of Patrick’s vegetables and fruits before heading home.
“Oh my, plums?”
“I tried one and they were delicious. Want some?”
“No, the teacher said he’ll bring more tomorrow, so I’ll just buy some then.”
“What did you buy? Can I take a look?”
“Ah, cucumbers. I was thinking of making a jar of pickles.”
Because it was a modest island village, many households worked the sea and the fields together. Still, most people focused on growing one or two crops for sale on the mainland rather than keeping a wide variety in their small kitchen gardens. As a result, even though nearly everyone farmed, not every house had a diverse selection of vegetables and fruits at all times. That was why Patrick’s stall proved popular.
In truth, he hadn’t planned everything this far ahead. There was only one thing he had been certain of.
‘People have always loved carrots.’
Patrick knew the addictive nature of this “Danggeun market” better than anyone. After all, he had been a heavy user with a manners score of over 61 degrees. He had bought and sold plenty himself. He had purchased all sorts of odds and ends just because they were cheap, and had nearly sold off every household item he owned.
And there was one more thing. The fact that money was starting to circulate in the village was excellent news for Patrick. More people had spare cash now, but there was nowhere on the island to spend it. When someone appeared selling armfuls of produce for just one or two coins, the residents saw it as a chance to spend a little money while also trying new recipes—an opportunity too good to pass up.
“By the way, Teacher.”
“What now?”
“This is the first time you’ve called us today, right?”
“Oh, is that so? So, why?”
“Why are you selling everything so cheap? At the market you could get this many plums for three coins.”
“That’s right! When I went to Eltron with Mom and Dad I saw it. Potatoes should sell for at least five times more than this if you sell ten of them.”
“Does the teacher not know that?”
Who would have guessed he would end up getting business lessons from a bunch of kids? But this pricing was entirely intentional.
“Where exactly is this Eltron market?”
“It’s on the mainland, of course.”
“Then how am I supposed to get there?”
“Ah……”
“These brats always manage to poke right where it hurts!”
“Wahahaha!”
When Patrick chased after them with exaggerated gestures, the children burst into laughter and ran around the Village Hall yard.
Strictly speaking, he wasn’t selling cheap just because he had been exiled. ‘If the prices are high, there’s no reason for anyone to buy.’ It was still true that he grew the most produce on the island. But if he charged high prices, or prices similar to those on the mainland markets, the villagers wouldn’t have bought so readily. ‘They’re used to bartering.’ Even he himself had traded medicinal herbs and soap for daily necessities. Therefore, for the Dunbrook Island-style Danggeun market to take root, it had to be cheaper than anything on the mainland. ‘Better to earn a little money than nothing at all.’ If left alone the produce would rot and become fertilizer anyway, so even a single coin was profit.
“Teacher, this…… Can I do it too?”
At that moment, the usually quiet Amy spoke up shyly.
“Amy?”
“I want to try selling bread to people too!”
“Bread?”
Come to think of it, Amy was good at making bread and cookies. He vaguely remembered hearing that she already knew how to make quite a few kinds despite being so young. ‘The cookies she brought last time were pretty tasty too.’ The fact that the cookies had been shaped like his own chaotic rooster had made him pause, but the taste had definitely been good.
“All right, then. I’m planning to sell more vegetables here tomorrow too. Bring some cloth and whatever bread you want to sell. Consider it an outdoor class.”
Setting prices and giving change was basically arithmetic practice, wasn’t it? ‘Maybe I should quit the vegetable garden and just keep being a teacher? She seems pretty talented.’
Patrick’s shoulders rose toward the sky for no reason, unaware that it was all thanks to the good children.
The next day.
After a hearty breakfast and loading the handcart with fruit and vegetables, Patrick arrived at the Village Hall.
“Huh?”
Someone had already set up stalls ahead of him.
“You’re here.”
“Teacher, I wanted to try too!”
He had only given permission to Amy, yet both Tommy and Ben had claimed spots as well. Tommy had framed the drawings he had made so far with his parents’ help and was displaying them. Ben had brought several bottles of liquor.
“You’re sure you got permission before bringing that?”
“I told you I did! These are ones that didn’t store well, so the flavor’s a bit off.”
“And you’re selling those?”
“If I sell them cheap enough, someone might still want them! You can put liquor in food too.”
“I suppose.”
It was a little unsettling to see a child selling alcohol, but since everyone on the island knew he was the brewer’s son, Patrick decided to look the other way this once.
“And what about you?”
“I, um…… Haha……”
Beside the children sat one uninvited guest, fidgeting. It was Josh.
“I have a lot of fabric I dyed during class, and I made a few things in my spare time. I thought someone might need them. Would it be all right if I set up next to you?”
He had already laid out his stall and was only asking permission now—what was he thinking?
“Tch. It’s not even my land, so do whatever you want.”
In just two days, a proper little flea market had taken shape.
“Hold on. What’s this?”
“Yes?”
“What’s wrong, Teacher?”
“Is something the matter, Mage?”
Patrick’s expression crumpled as he organized the produce he had brought.
“……Why is everything you guys are selling so expensive?”
Unlike his own stall, where the most expensive item was two coins per bundle, the price tags on the children’s and Josh’s stalls were several times higher.
“Because your goods don’t have any scarcity, Teacher. Scarcity.”
“……”
Who on earth had taught that brat such a word?