Chapter 101
Chapter 101
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 101
Chapter Title: New Product
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“Noble lord! Lately, gremlins have been running wild! I know it's presumptuous of me to ask, but please take care of us!”
In this world, gremlins were fairy-like creatures that appeared very rarely. Of course, if a real fairy heard that, they'd throw a fit.
I'd never seen one myself, so I didn't know much, but they were said to have green skin like dwarves, great handiwork skills, and a penchant for mischief. Their combat ability was supposedly next to nothing.
“Can't you just catch them yourselves? And are you sure it's really gremlins?”
“Yes! We've been noticing carts and tools breaking down suspiciously... and then we spotted gremlins coming out at night, smashing things, and cackling! We even tried catching them ourselves, but they're too quick on their feet...”
If the village had a problem like this, I had to help. And since gremlins were good with their hands, capturing one to put to work didn't sound half bad.
“Cutter.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Surround the village completely with the villagers and mercenaries. Don't let a single rat slip out. The maids and manservants will search the village with me.”
Why use maids and manservants instead of mercenaries? Because gremlins had no combat prowess anyway. They were escape artists, but mercenaries who only knew how to fight weren't the best at finding hidden things—servants were far better.
“Search every nook and cranny! If you spot anything suspicious, yell. Gremlins supposedly can't fight, but stay cautious just in case!”
“Yes, my lord!”
A human wall of villagers and mercenaries encircled the village, while the servants began combing through it like they were hunting rats on my orders. I watched with a bit of anticipation.
“I've only heard tales of gremlins—maybe I'll actually see one.”
If we caught it, where could I use it? Chain it up so it couldn't flee... and hand it over to Oliver, probably.
“Search thoroughly!”
The servants flipped over even food bowls in their hunt for the gremlin. It didn't seem likely it'd hide there, but they were trying their best, so I let it slide.
About an hour into turning the village upside down, a scream erupted from a small shed.
“Kyaaak!”
“Here! It's here!”
A maid pointed and shrieked, and the manservants rushed over, filling the air with crashing sounds like the shed was being demolished. Moments later.
“Got it!”
“Kieek! Let go!”
The catch was a green-skinned dwarf with a white beard. They called it a fairy or whatever, but it looked just like a dwarf from the movies. The differences? Skin color and a nastier face.
“Let go!”
“Ugh... disgusting...”
“What an ugly mug.”
The servant holding it grimaced. It wasn't that gross, but the gremlin took the comment hard. It stopped struggling and slumped sadly.
“Hand it over.”
“But my lord! It might be dangerous...!”
“If we're talking danger, I'm more hazardous than this thing. Pass it here and take a break nearby.”
At my command, the servants hesitated, then handed it over and dispersed.
“Hmm... heavier than it looks...”
Actually holding it, it weighed about as much as a child. I took the dejected gremlin to the Village Chief's house, sat in a chair, and plopped it down.
“What's your game, human?”
“First time seeing a gremlin, that's all.”
The gremlin snapped back.
“You think I'm gross too, don't you! Humans hate anything different from them!”
Some major misunderstanding. I shook my head to clear it up for the green dwarf.
“Nah. I just hate ugly bastards.”
People only hate the ugly ones. Take elves—they get called barbarians, but the men are handsome and the women beautiful, so no one looks at them with disgust. Female elf slaves are in high demand, too.
“Kugh...”
My blunt words crushed it; it drooped its head limply.
Still, now I knew it wasn't out of hatred for humans that it'd caused trouble in the village. That meant it'd be easy to use. And didn't I have an expert in this sort of thing?
“So you brought it to me for this?”
Oliver lit up at the little dwarf in my hands. Gremlins' handiwork made them perfect assistants. Prestigious wizards even loaned them out for experiments like grad students.
Magic was a world apart from mine, but gremlins seemed to fill the role of capable, exploited postdocs among wizards.
“They said it was lashing out because humans rejected it. Tame it good and put it to work.”
Oliver grinned slyly and took the gremlin's hand. His eyes gleamed with malice. But the gremlin, oblivious to its future, just beamed at the friendly human.
“So... what have you been making lately?”
I'd dropped the gremlin off in a spare room at Oliver's house and returned. Sipping the tea he'd brewed, I asked about recent developments. If something useful came up, I'd fund it for a share.
“Lately, a fatigue-recovery potion.”
“Fatigue recovery?”
“Nothing amazing—just mixing herbs and oils, good stuff for the body.”
Sounded like a vitamin drink.
“Any side effects?”
Oliver's face soured.
“Well... there is one, but it's awkward. It recovers fatigue, but spikes libido...”
I paused, wondering if I understood the effect right. Fatigue relief plus raging hormones? Sounded great.
“What's the problem with that?”
Oliver looked at me like I'd missed the obvious. Fatigue potions were for late-night work, and horniness would ruin that.
“I'll buy it.”
I snagged the recipe for this "flawed" fatigue aid from the naive wizard on the cheap.
“Hiring workers! No experience needed—sign up!”
“I'll do it for 1.5 times what the guy next to me's asking! As long as you've got all your limbs!”
“You bastard! Wanna fight?”
“Then pay more!”
The recruiters grappled and rolled on the ground. Carpenters and masons cheered at the massive development project—unheard of since Lucas territory was Sarisa land.
Ten thousand pounds for labor, plus eight thousand for forge orders. With commoners living on shillings, it was raining money.
Even stray dogs carried pounds in their mouths—or so the rumors went. Pouring eighteen thousand pounds into an already prosperous territory skyrocketed castle housing prices.
Despite day-labor earnings, the poor still crammed into shacks. So they started thinking differently.
'Why live in a shack with money in my pocket? Better build a proper house in a nearby village.'
Sure, the castle's conveniences were tempting, but anything beat shacks. Plus, the benevolent lord was pouring fortunes into developing every village.
“To the villages! The villages are our hope!”
“I've got workers right here!”
Supply met demand perfectly: those needing hands and poor folks chasing final paychecks before relocating. The castle slums were razed, new buildings rising in their place.
“At this rate, expanding the castle wouldn't be bad.”
“We might even witness a city's birth...”
Among castle nobles and merchants, talk turned to adding outer walls to the inner keep, turning it into a city. The territory's growth was that explosive.
Meanwhile, news of free new homes in villages filled the air with praise for Kyle.
Farmers in slapdash huts were thrilled at real carpenters building proper houses. Serfs got the same perks.
“No one like our lord!”
“Sarisa Count? Dare compare him to that killer with our lord?”
“Some Cligrove guy was yapping... that our lord beat a werewolf barehanded...”
Everyone knew the territory had shifted from Sarisa Count's to Viscount Lucas Kyle's under new rule. And this ruler beat the old nobles hands down.
“You called for me, my lord.”
Gringem, once haggard, now looked much improved. The merchants I'd nabbed were pulling their weight. I grinned and welcomed him.
“Sit. I called you for a party.”
Blunt as that, he paused, then nodded.
“True... you've been lord a while without a proper one. Now's a good time.”
It could commemorate my lordship, but the real goal was selling Oliver's fatigue potion. Recovery plus libido boost—essential for aging nobles.
“How grand?”
I planned to tap every connection.
“As big and flashy as possible. I'll empty my coffers, so prepare accordingly. Tell castle merchants we're soliciting donations too.”
No merchant would refuse. Money-rich, they idolized nobles and always sought ties.
Plus, my engagement to Lenia was public knowledge, so Cligrove nobles would assume invites.
“Invitations, then...”
“I'll handle those.”
“Understood.”
Business done, Gringem bowed and left. I picked up pen and paper.
[To His Excellency Duke Norsemond. Since taking lordship...]
[To Viscount Loban. The horse you gifted is named Merlin...]
[To Honorable Count Lagos. Surely you haven't forgotten our battlefield bond...]