The Birth of the Northern Postal Service
If it’s food I can eat without it getting in the way of my work, I’ll welcome anything.
If I had the luxury of choice, I’d certainly be willing to pick something other than sandwiches.
It’s not that I’m a picky eater or have any particular food aversions, but Aiden is human, after all. If there were options, he wouldn’t exactly choose to eat the same thing day in and day out.
'Why didn't I think of delivery?'
He was about to berate himself for missing such a simple idea, but decided against it.
'It’s not like there’s anywhere that offers delivery. Forget it.'
Food delivery in the North, a place that didn't even have a regular market until he arrived? That was undoubtedly an overly luxurious thought for someone in his circumstances.
This was exactly why he had built a communal cafeteria for the workers and administrators. Since there were no decent restaurants nearby, everyone had to pack a lunch, and in this era, there was no such thing as a thermos to keep food warm.
And besides, do packed lunches just fall from the sky? Anyone who has never had to pack a lunch doesn't know how much of a hassle it is.
'It’s much better to save the energy wasted on packing lunches and put it into work, absolutely!'
For that reason, he thought he should give up on the idea of delivery, but then again, maybe not.
"Mail delivery is a form of delivery, too."
"Huh?"
Jamie, who was already tearing into his fourth fist-sized piece of bread, blinked in confusion at Aiden’s sudden mutterings.
"It would be nice if food delivery were possible, but I think that’s premature for now. Instead, I’m going to organize a group that specializes in mail delivery."
"?"
The time had come to establish a postal service.
"I’m heading out first. Finish your meal."
"Ah, no, sir. I’m finished."
"It’s better to eat your fill than to leave early because you’re hungry later. We have to work overtime tonight. I’m off."
Aiden disappeared upstairs before anyone could try to stop him.
Once the apex predator had vanished, the atmosphere in the communal cafeteria finally loosened up a bit. Everyone, that is, except for Jamie.
"...When was it ever not overtime?"
There was a time when Jamie had desperately wished to have some actual work to do. He felt like giving his past self a good knock on the head for not fully enjoying the time when he served a pathetic, lazy former administrator—a job that was, in hindsight, a total breeze.
"Why are you back so soon? I told you to eat more."
"I have enough sense for that, sir. Heh. But what’s this about a postal organization?"
"We can’t keep overworking the soldiers. The amount of correspondence and supplies moving between the Lord's Castle and the various villages is only going to increase. How long can we keep pulling soldiers away for that?"
"That may be true, but the problem is always money, isn't it?"
Jamie replied in a deflated voice. He didn't want to oppose his superior's ideas, but considering the cost of selecting personnel, organizing them, and maintaining a postal service in the North, the expenses would be staggering.
"With that kind of money, we could build several more workshops the size of the smithy that just started running—."
"We’re going to operate it as a paid service."
"Excuse me?"
"We just have to charge for it. We'll cover the costs with that."
"?"
Aiden’s lips curled up into a pleasant arc for the first time in a while.
Crash!
"Oh my!"
The maid who had entered to serve tea froze at the sight, leading to the unfortunate accident of a shattered teacup.
"Are you hurt?"
"N-no, sir!"
"That’s a relief."
The broken teacup... 'The chef is going to throw a fit when he sees this.' It seemed the few remaining ceramic pieces would truly no longer be a matching set.
Aiden clicked his tongue as he watched the maid quickly flee the office, thinking she was likely terrified of being scolded.
"Where was I?"
"Ah, you were planning to operate it as a paid service..."
"But, Administrator."
Kalisa, who had been quiet until now, chimed in.
"If we charge for sending official documents, wouldn't that be a significant burden? It seems like an organization created to reduce burdens might end up increasing them."
"Official documents shouldn't be charged, obviously."
"But if it's a paid service—."
"That’s for civilians."
"?"
Kalisa and Jamie looked at each other and tilted their heads.
- What is he talking about? Do you get it?
- Do I look like I get it?
Their expressions seemed to say exactly that.
"The postal service will be a sub-organization under the Department of Commercial Development. Kalisa, it’s your responsibility."
"Ah, yes. Understood."
She didn't know what it was, but since a larger organization usually meant more authority, Kalisa nodded readily.
"It will be tasked with delivering letters and goods, and it won't just be for the Lord's Castle's official documents—it will be made easily accessible for the residents to use as well."
"But will the residents really have a reason to pay money to send letters or goods to other regions?"
"I have a plan for that, so leave it to me. Now, the basic process of the postal service is simple. We will connect the Lord's Castle with the major hub villages. These will be the regular routes, right? And for moving supplies from the hub villages to the smaller nearby villages, rather than hiring permanent staff, it wouldn't be a bad idea to recruit people from those specific hub villages."
"Even for nearby villages, many of the roads are treacherous. It would be difficult for ordinary people to travel—."
"We just held a hunting competition, didn't we? There were plenty of people there capable of defending themselves. Wouldn't that make for a good side job?"
"Ah...!"
Although they were less worried about survival than last year, it was still difficult to get meat on the table. They were, quite literally, just "getting by." Therefore, the North was still overflowing with people willing to do anything that could earn them money.
'It’s so bad that the cost of labor has dropped because people are fighting over who gets to do the manual labor in place of the prisoners.'
Since delivery work in nearby villages would be enough to attract people's interest, this level of concern for manpower should be sufficient.
"There are a few other important things."
"I’m listening."
"Courier training—that’s the most important part, right? There’s nothing stopping them from secretly opening a customer’s letter or swiping an item along the way."
"Hmm. We’ll need to train them thoroughly and establish countermeasures for when such incidents occur."
"But we shouldn't let the couriers take the blame for every mishap with letters or goods. It would be best to clearly define the deliverable items, weight, and size limits."
"Managing items with freshness issues or those that must arrive by a certain deadline... I will keep this in mind."
"Lastly, natural disasters. In life, force majeure events are bound to happen, and the postal service can't be held responsible for those."
"I think we can avoid problems by notifying customers of this in advance."
"Good. Then, discuss how to set the rates for each village and report back to me."
"I will organize it and report back immediately!"
The first postal service in the North—no, the first in the Empire—was on the verge of being born.
"Look, it’s coming!"
"Whoa—."
"But will it really be okay?"
"I know, right? They said the iron was soft. Won't the tools just break immediately if we try to till the ground with them?"
"Still, since it’s something the Administrator pushed for, he must have had a plan."
"True. Our Administrator isn't just some ordinary person!"
A few days later.
Workers and administrators gathered in the front yard of the Lord's Castle, watching the approaching wagon and whispering to one another. The wagon was coming from the Cat-folk village.
'If the quality is garbage, I’m definitely not letting that old man off the hook easily.'
It was the wagon carrying the first farm tools ever made at Old Man Faber’s smithy. Aiden was pretending to be calm, but his palms were already soaked with sweat.
'If this works, it’s a jackpot.'
The mine had been sealed because it was deemed unproductive. Thanks to the chance encounter with the Cat-folk and successfully bringing them into the Northern fold, the risk of beast and monster attacks in the mountains had been greatly reduced, saving the cost of hiring guards. The laborers working the pickaxes in the mine were prisoners, so the cost was literally just the price of feeding, clothing, and housing them.
And finally, Faber’s smithy.
'Processed goods are always worth several times more than raw materials.'
If they could mine it and process it right there in the vicinity? 'It means it’s no longer that useless mine from thirty years ago.'
Even if it wasn't suitable for weapons, iron wasn't called the "rice of the industrial revolution" for nothing. Iron is needed everywhere and goes into everything.
Neigh—!
With the sound of a weary horse’s whinny, the wagon finally entered the front yard.
"Meow!"
"Huh?"
"Cat-folk, it’s the Cat-folk!"
"Whoa, my first time seeing a beastkin. So that’s what they look like."
"They look just like people, except for the ears and tail?"
Unexpectedly, it was the Cat-folk who had pulled the wagon. This caused a brief stir, but it was short-lived. Unlike the center of the Empire, the North was a land of rough people and a territory of survivors, so there was no such thing as discrimination against beastkin. Perhaps they felt a sense of camaraderie, as beastkin and Northerners were both treated as outcasts if they went to the center anyway.
"Can we see the items right away?"
"Of course, meow! We brought them very carefully, meow."
The Cat-folk who had pulled the wagon opened the wagon door while twitching their ears incessantly. The waiting soldiers quickly took the wooden crates out of the wagon and stacked them up for everyone to see.
"Let’s take a look."
At Aiden’s command, the gardener who had been standing by opened a wooden crate, pulled out a sickle, and immediately cut through a tough vine that had been wrapped around a tree in the corner of the garden.
Snip—!
"Oh!"
Exclamations erupted at once. The tough vine had been sliced through in one go without any effort.
"Now then..."
The gardener immediately pulled a hoe from another crate and began to dig into a patch of ground full of rocks that had been left uncleared in the corner of the garden.
Thud, thud, thud—!
Small pebbles were split, and tree roots buried in the ground were dragged to the surface in an instant.
"The blade is sharp. The durability is good, too. It’s a pass!"
"Wooooooah—!"
As the gardener nodded and shouted loudly, cheers erupted from the onlookers. It was a bit funny to be receiving such cheers for just a few farm tools, but considering the Northern residents who had been forced to grind stones to use as tools because even those were scarce, their joy was entirely understandable.
"Good. Send half of the first shipment to the special crop demonstration plot, and distribute the other half to each village."
"Uh... but Administrator. This shipment was a personal gift to you, sir..."
Jamie scratched the back of his head, looking troubled.
It was a world where the Lord had quite a lot of rights and authority. Since he was practically the king of a region, it was only natural. The farmland and orchards tended by tenant farmers, livestock grazing on ownerless land, timber from ownerless land, and produce from rivers or seas were all considered things the Lord had lent to the residents. Therefore, it was common knowledge here that the first produce must be offered to the Lord. Aiden had no intention of overturning this custom.
"I know. Since it’s mine, I’m just gifting it to others again."
"A gift, sir?"
"Many things are changing rapidly, so I should at least thank them for following along so well."
"Ah, then I’ll prepare to send them out immediately. I’ll have the fast soldiers—."
"Since it’s a personal gift, the postal service should charge its fair rate, too. Let’s see, Kalisa. Is the rate setting mostly finished?"
Before the harvest season, he would promote the paid delivery service while distributing the farm tools to each village.
Delivery.
There are people who have never used it, but there isn't anyone who has only used it once, right?
"Meow—?"
"You there, Cat-folk resident, come see me before you go."
He had found the perfect person for the job, after all.