Chapter 131
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Translator: Prime Works
Chapter: 131
Chapter Title: Dancing on Rebar (1)
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“Welcome. You must be tired from the long journey. This is the Frontera Barony from here on.”
“......”
The voice of the human, Lloyd Frontera, rang in her ears.
Mui, the chief of the Water Forget-Me-Not Tribe and an elf, lifted her head.
As they emerged from the forest, the view opened up wide.
An unfamiliar landscape spread out before her.
‘Is that the land where humans live?’
She carefully surveyed the Frontera Territory.
The first thing that caught her eye was the Prona River, flowing in from the south and sweeping around in a great semicircle clockwise. The Frontera Barony lay nestled inside that semicircle, which curved sharply westward before flowing north.
‘The east reaches the foothills of the mountains, and the other three sides are surrounded by the river.’
It was a beautiful sight.
But soon, she realized an uncomfortable truth.
‘Too many plants are being sacrificed amid that beautiful scenery.’
Scattered villages dotted the territory here and there.
Paddy fields and croplands lay between them.
Vast reclaimed land stretched to the south.
All of it was space cultivated and harvested en masse to meet human needs.
The houses and other buildings were the same.
‘There’s nowhere wood isn’t used.’
Log cabins, barns, warehouses—most were built with wood as the material.
That uncomfortable fact stung Mui’s heart.
‘Those trees must not have received proper funeral rites, poor things.’
Humans didn’t cherish plants to that extent.
Naturally, they didn’t pay respects to dead trees either.
That was why this sight instinctively...
“Does it bother you?”
“......”
Was he reading her feelings?
Lloyd had somehow come to stand beside her.
Mui nodded slightly at his question.
A wry smile tugged at Lloyd’s lips.
“There’s no helping it. Everyone has their own way of living, after all.”
“What do you mean by ‘different ways’?”
“For example, monks.”
Monks?
It was a word she’d never heard before.
Lloyd’s wry smile deepened slightly as he faced her.
“Ascetics who operate in distant lands, a kind of priest.”
“Priests. But why mention them?”
“They have the complete opposite diet from you all. They eat only plants.”
“What in the world...”
Mui was horrified.
People who picked only plants to eat. How horrific.
But as she listened to Lloyd’s following words, she began to reconsider her own thoughts.
“It’s to uphold the precept against taking life. It’s about respecting living things, you could say. Of course, some don’t follow it, but most try to, from what I hear. Just like you elves cherish and protect plants.”
“......”
“I’m just saying, since ways of life differ, a little understanding would be nice.”
“Understanding. Like the negotiation you proposed a few days ago?”
“Yes.”
Lloyd nodded slightly.
Seeing that, Mui suddenly recalled the events of a few days prior.
The intruder who had barged into the forest unannounced.
The audacious one who tried to take the sap from Elensia’s roots.
Caught red-handed, he’d even staged a hostage situation.
Yet he hadn’t panicked—instead, he’d brazenly grilled meat.
He’d even proposed negotiations, using the meat and charcoal as bait.
She still couldn’t forget what Lloyd had said then.
♣
“Negotiation is the process of narrowing the gap between differing interests.”
It was puzzling.
What did he mean?
Lloyd continued.
“Well, you don’t have to force it. Failed negotiations have their own meaning. The attempt itself to close the gap counts as half a success, you might say. Like how I’m sitting face-to-face with you all now, even after you insisted talks were impossible.”
Lloyd chuckled.
“Anyway, let me summarize my proposal once more. I’ll provide your tribe with the meat you need each month. Along with charcoal—the burning stones—for grilling it.”
“In exchange, you want the right to harvest Elensia sap and 100 workers from us?”
“Yes, exactly.”
“......”
“If the proposal doesn’t appeal, feel free to refuse. Or if there are conditions you want to add, let’s hear them.”
“You’ll agree if I ask?”
“We’ll see.”
“......”
Was this what humans called negotiation?
The conditions offered by the other side.
What they would provide in return.
Weighing the gains in between.
It was an utterly unfamiliar experience.
She’d lived a peaceful life roaming the forest and hunting her whole life.
Faced with the strange new experience of negotiation for the first time, Mui hesitated.
She pondered.
‘What would Mother have done in a situation like this?’
Her mother, Rosua, who had once interacted with humans in a place called ‘Gafel Territory.’
She’d returned to the forest after her close ones passed away one by one and given birth to her. Mui recalled the dying words her mother, who had lived a long life, left just before returning to the spirit of the plants.
‘She said friendship with humans is but a fleeting moment. Unlike us, they die so young and vanish all too soon. So don’t rely only on human friends—trusting their entire race will lead to trouble.’
But what about the human named Lloyd before her eyes?
‘Not a friend. But...’
Not an enemy, either.
Proof was that he was proposing negotiations.
Moreover...
“Why are you taking off your armor?”
“Oh, to make a contract.”
“A contract?”
“Exactly as it sounds: preserving the terms of the agreement. It leaves evidence of the negotiation results, preventing and reducing future misunderstandings or disputes. An important document, you could say.”
“So if we make this contract, there’ll be no room for conflict?”
“Yes, in most cases.”
“Most cases...”
“Nothing in the world is perfect. Anyway—ngh. Flip it like this, cut it out...”
Stab!
Lloyd removed his leather armor. He detached the shoulder guards, flipped it inside out, and stabbed it with a dagger. He cut it into a neat square and spread it out.
He smiled at her.
“This’ll be our contract. Normally, contracts are on paper, but I figured you’d hate that. From your perspective, paper torments plants to make, right?”
“......”
“So, have you thought it over?”
“Yes.”
Burning stones and meat.
Excellent conditions.
Especially considering the tribe’s food shortages—it was like rain in a drought.
Moreover, it wasn’t mere verbal promises or boasts; it was an attitude of creating a contract on equal terms. The unexpected sight of him cutting up his own leather armor to accommodate them was impressive.
And so, Mui nodded.
“Very well. We accept your proposal.”
“Then the Elensia sap and workers too?”
“Of course.”
She accepted the terms.
They drafted two copies of the contract and split them.
They even made a separate outsourcing contract for the manpower dispatch.
Because of that, she faced harsh criticism from the tribe elders.
For recklessly giving away precious plant roots.
For opening the forest to humans.
‘But it’s better than the tribe’s children starving.’
It was a realistic compromise and decision as chief.
She’d gladly accept the reprimands.
In exchange, she’d secure the gains firmly.
With that resolve, Mui snapped out of her reverie.
She pulled her gaze from the Frontera Barony before her.
She turned to Lloyd, standing beside her.
“You’re right.”
“Hm?”
Lloyd looked at her quizzically.
She smiled faintly at him.
“Everything looks different depending on your perspective. Understood. Human views, your different lifestyle. So, where will we be working?”
“Oh, starting right away?”
“Yes. That was the negotiation and promise.”
Charcoal and meat.
She’d work hard in return.
Lloyd smiled contentedly at her words.
“First, learn how it’s done. This way.”
He guided Mui and the 100 elf workers into the territory.
He introduced them to the baron and baroness.
The baron’s family and the territory residents were surprised and fascinated by their first sight of elves. One young man fell in love at first sight; a girl gazed in admiration.
So when Lloyd revealed what they’d be doing, the baron couldn’t help but be taken aback.
“What? They’re going to be rebar workers?”
“Yes.”
“I-Is that even possible?”
“Of course.”
“......”
Lloyd nodded as if it were obvious.
The baron grew even more flustered.
“Hmm, still... I worry it might be too much for them.”
“Is it because of their delicate appearance?”
“W-Well, I know judging by looks is wrong, but... hmm, I can’t help worrying.”
The baron said hesitantly.
It was true.
To him, the elves seemed like mysterious, fragile deer.
Fairy-like beings who’d spent their lives far from rough labor.
Yet Lloyd wanted to put them on an apartment construction site.
Making them do the grueling work of rebar workers, no less.
“You know as well as I. Even those rough, boisterous orc warriors are terrified of rebar work and complain daily. They whine about the height. It’s gotten worse while you were away these few days.”
“I know. That’s why I brought them.”
“These elves?”
“Yes.”
Lloyd grinned.
“They’re the ones with the biggest phobia of heights. Plus, their strength is surprisingly immense.”
“Impressive strength?”
“Yes. They live over ten times longer than us humans, leaping through forests and shooting bows the whole time.”
Shooting bows.
Commonly associated with agility stats in games.
But reality was different.
Very different.
Anyone who’s tried an archery range even once feels it bone-deep with every muscle.
The skill needed for archery wasn’t agility—it was raw strength.
“They enjoy youth far longer than us. That means much longer muscle-building periods too. And they shoot bows every day for that span. Their strength is a given.”
Far longer youth than humans.
Longer periods of muscle-growth hormones.
All while devouring protein-packed meat like carnivore fanatics, shooting bows daily.
Peel back the layers, and they were pure muscle.
In truth, monstrous beings who’d treat elite special forces like Delta Force as kindergarteners.
That was the true nature of these delicate elves.
“So don’t worry. Leave managing them to me.”
“Hmm, now that you put it that way, you have a point.”
He succeeded in convincing the baron too.
The next day, Lloyd began teaching the elf workers.
The elves had no concept of construction at all.
He explained the site basics and precautions.
He put the most effort into safety training.
‘Fortunately, their cautious nature makes them perfect for this.’
Elves were prudent by character.
They learned slowly but thoroughly.
Especially site safety.
After that foundational training, he taught actual rebar work.
“Now, placing rebar is called tying rebar. Like this, here—exactly like the designs. Accuracy is key. For binding crossed rebar, use this—called a hook.”
He taught several rebar-tying methods.
And various other techniques.
Tips for binding cement formwork.
Installing braces to prevent forms from tilting or bursting under pour pressure.
Procedures and safety rules for dismantling forms after cement sets.
Over days, he repeated intense training and practice.
He scolded and pushed the elves relentlessly.
“Hey, tie it like that and it’ll burst. Don’t you want meat?”
“You there? Follow the chalk lines on the ground properly? Or no meat today?”
“Hey, sis. Braces like that? Everything collapses. Accidents happen. And if they do? Dinner’s meat wrapped in lettuce.”
Scoldings with lettuce, perilla leaf, and cabbage wraps were most effective.
During snacks, show them favorite meat wrapped up?
Add chopped peppers and garlic?
Of course, he didn’t let them eat.
Just showing was enough.
Nearly all elves recoiled in genuine horror.
The more sensitive ones burst into tears, admitting their mistakes.
Thanks to that harsh(?) special training, within days, the elf workers transformed into thorough pros.
And they were deployed to the site.
Lloyd was there too, of course.
“For the time being, I’ll supervise your work on-site myself. Until when? Until you’re all comfortable. Want less nagging? Adapt fast.”
The elves flinched at his words.
Even on-site, under that human’s watch.
It filled them with dread.
Because of Lloyd’s Spartan scoldings.
Especially facing lettuce wraps...
‘No thanks. Never again!’
The elves resolved.
They’d give their utmost focus today.
Earn Lloyd’s approval.
No more living in fear of lettuce wraps.
That determination and concentration drew out 200% of their innate high-altitude prowess.
Ta-at! Sha-sha-shak! Kiriik, kiririk! Ta-tat!
The Apartment Building 102 site, stalled for a while due to orc warriors’ height phobias.
At its peak, the elf rebar workers began flying about—literally.