Chapter 49
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 49
Chapter Title: My Job VS Your Job (3)
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"......"
The beggars—no, Karim and his friends—had clearly not envisioned this scenario.
They had dreamed of proving their worth, rising to key positions, and working together to develop the village into the world they envisioned, living the life of elite administrators.
But the moment they heard that an academy for commoners was opening, they headed south. Along the way, they kept hearing new facts from the merchants they encountered.
[Heading to Evergreen? That village chief? He's no ordinary guy. They've started a lodging business—resort, was it? Nah, it's not just an inn, they say. Better go see for yourselves and judge.]
[How much has Evergreen developed? Who knows. They say buildings pop up overnight there. The chief's pouring all the profits from seaweed and shops back into the village, so it's probably still changing as we speak.]
[That village chief's unique. Seems like an ordinary guy one minute, extraordinary the next. One thing's for sure: rumor has it he naps whenever he gets the chance. Oh, and he took down a massive centipede monster. For real! They auctioned off its shell in Evergreen, so it's legit.]
[Village chief? He's the mayor now. You might not have heard if you've been traveling. It was decided recently—impressive, right? Sigh, our village chief just lounges around grumbling about being chief. Tsk tsk.]
The closer they got to Evergreen, the more new stories they heard.
They didn't believe all the rumors. Tales often got exaggerated as they passed from mouth to mouth.
Yet Karim and his friends quickened their steps without a word. Even if the rumors were inflated, the excitement made them forget their fatigue. They just wanted to reach Evergreen and see for themselves.
They pushed on without camping comforts.
Skipping meals was routine, and bathing in hot water was out of the question.
[My god! The rumors were understated...!]
Evergreen, when they finally arrived, was a whole other world to these capital bumpkins.
Confident commoners, elegant nobles.
No one on the streets lacked that sparkle in their eyes.
[Forget this—let's go meet the chief, no, the mayor!]
Asking a resident, they learned the mayor was probably in the kitchen.
And so the meeting happened.
Grrrrumble—
Facing Evergreen's mayor at last, their tension melted away. Perhaps that's why the hunger they'd ignored came rushing in.
Grrrrrrumble!
"Looks like you're here for jobs. Let's eat first and talk."
Dominic might have been flustered by the sudden turn, but he just sighed, clapped his hands, and prepared another meal.
"Grilling meat, so wash up first."
The group couldn't grasp why washing hands mattered for grilled meat, but seeing the dwarf dash excitedly to the faucet, they awkwardly followed.
"Gotta taste it, right?"
"Haha, thanks to our guests, two meals today!"
Ian and the Old Lord had hosted so many pork belly parties in the yard that they now deftly lit the fire and plucked ssam veggies from the nearby patch.
"Let's see... we have some pork belly left, pull out the smoked stuff... Ah! Sausages!"
Before heading to the manor, he'd made three kinds of German-style handmade sausages—it was time to try them.
Smoked low and slow then dried, they had to be even softer than usual.
If the storage could go colder, he'd have frozen them for later, but Perot said lower temps were beyond his skill.
'Still, having a mage in the village is a blessing.'
Dominic felt a fresh wave of gratitude pulling out pristine pork belly—something unimaginable a year ago.
He was happier about the storage chest enabling fresh pork than his name spreading.
"Pickled onions~ scallion salad~ egg custard~"
His hands flew familiarly, whipping up three side dishes in a flash, passing them out the window to the yard.
"Oh! You look like different people now. See? Gotta wash up."
"Th-there were circumstances..."
After hastily washing at the faucet, splashing their faces, brushing dust from hair and clothes, the guests finally looked presentable.
"We came here because..."
"Work talk later. Eat first."
Sizzle—
Pork belly hit the massive pot lid, unleashing saliva-triggering sounds and nutty oil scents.
Lard from the pork sizzled smoked ham, handmade sausages, potatoes, and mushrooms in turn—mouthwateringly.
"Looks done. Yeah? Dig in?"
"Yes, please."
"Whoa!"
The pork belly, grilled golden and crisp outside, juicy within thanks to the pot lid.
A dip in salt, and juices burst with every chew, filling mouths luxuriously.
"I can do big wraps like this. Haha!"
Stonehammer stuffed two lettuce leaves with three pork strips, spicy-sweet scallion salad, and shoveled a big spoonful of egg custard as a chaser, crunching away.
The foreigners couldn't hold back anymore, grabbing forks and diving in.
'Y-yeah. Eat first, talk later. Mayor said so...'
Dominic watched them happily devour, grilling more pork.
'Feed 'em a solid meal, and they won't be picky. Full bellies make folks lenient. Eat more, eat up.'
Dominic had already pegged these strangers.
The imperial academy prodigies the Old Lord mentioned.
'Tanned guy's probably the genius. Others same breed.'
He hadn't caught the full story amid the sudden arrival, but guessing wasn't hard.
Capital accents, but not powerful or wealthy from their looks.
'Not laborers either.'
Clean palms after dusting—no calluses.
Except one spot: beside the middle finger.
'Pen hand.'
Why a prodigy came to Evergreen? Obvious without asking.
'Status, probably. Maybe skin color too.'
His drama-country experience made such inferences second nature.
"D-delicious! First time slicing pork this thin and grilling—why didn't I think of it?"
"Wrapping meat in fresh leaves is novel, but it balances bold flavors perfectly. I'll try it often!"
Dominic had instinctively offered food, fearing sharp words from their hungry, tired edginess.
Smart move.
Filling up on fatty meat softened their taut nerves.
"I need someone who knows ports."
"Koff, koff!"
Time for business now they'd eaten.
Dominic cut straight to it.
No greetings, no intros, no flattery. The five strangers, mid-wrap, froze like startled rabbits, choking.
"Trade port? Naval?"
Karim recovered first.
How he knew who they were? Later.
Priority: the port's purpose.
"Trade port."
"Trade needs specialties—luxuries especially."
"Got that covered."
"May I ask what?"
No fluff in Dominic and Karim's exchange.
Dominic wasn't the explanatory type; Karim inferred volumes from omissions.
Clear mutual wants—no need for verbosity.
"Pottery."
Even Karim was speechless.
"Pottery... you say?"
"Yes."
"Planning trade with the East Continent?"
"That risky? Me? No way."
Crossing continents without satellite GPS was suicidal—even kids knew.
"Then how the pottery...?"
"I'll make it myself."
"Pardon?"
All forks dropped, even the dwarf's meat.
"You know how to make pottery? For real, human?"
Stonehammer eyed Dominic desperately.
This world mirrored Earth in many ways.
Pottery too.
Europeans obsessed with East Asian—especially Chinese—porcelain.
Centuries of efforts to replicate, but futile.
Luxury drain bankrupted nations, yet nobles couldn't quit.
'Same here.'
East Continent imports: elegant, smooth, beautifully glazed!
Local glass was advanced, but porcelain's refined charm was unmatched.
Cool touch, long warmth retention, milky sheen—porcelain's popularity made sense over limited glass.
'See? Learn anything, it's useful someday.'
During food styling cert studies, he'd obsessed over pottery brands.
Studied centuries-old European makers: bone china, low-fire, china clay, etc.
"Human—no, Mayor! If you know how, teach me. I'll bring all my apprentices and mass-produce!"
Stonehammer was desperate.
Dwarves, blessed in craftsmanship, excelled everywhere.
Stonehammer himself aced architecture, art, smithing.
He'd always preferred beautiful creations over armor or swords,
"Teach me! Teach me! Teach me!"
tossing pride, rolling on the floor, burning to outdo East Continent porcelain.
"If you recreate it, launching the new port's no issue. Could funnel the continent's wealth to Evergreen."
"...That's a bit much."
Dominic backpedaled amid the world-conquest vibe.
"Not sure if it'll work—it's just an idea. But high odds. I have the concept; you'd handle tech, Stonehammer."
"...You don't know the method?"
"If I did, would I be playing mayor here?"
"True, tsk. But you rate success high?"
"Yes."
"How high?"
"With your help? Hundred percent!"
"Hahaha! Human! Big thinker! Yeah! My touch guarantees success! Hahahaha!"
Perfect timing to deflect.
Ian and Old Lord's puzzled looks—he'd raised suspicions claiming knowledge of a centuries-failed feat.
"Business at the village hall, then. No city hall yet."
"Meaning...?"
"Yep, you're hired!"
Secure workers first.
"And Stonehammer, chat with me after."
Time for bone china.