Chapter 190
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Translator: Prime Works
Chapter: 190
Chapter Title: The Greedy Man's Good Deed (3)
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‘That’s how you rack up points, right?’
The smile he flashed while looking back at me.
It looked wicked and joyful.
Infuriating yet rewarding.
That’s why I thought,
‘This guy means it.’
Lloyd Frontera.
The young master I serve.
A former wastrel and ultimate pain in the ass.
How does a person like him come up with such ideas?
How does he carry them out without hesitation?
Haviel was genuinely curious.
At the same time, he felt a sense of mystery about humans and lifted his head.
He looked at the people gathered in the midnight square.
They were the citizens of Kandara.
“Come on! Line up, line up! Don’t forget your buckets or basins!”
The long line of citizens.
Lloyd shouted proudly from the front.
He lined up people still groggy from sleep. He gently guided those yawning. He quickly directed those looking around in confusion.
And he distributed the water one by one.
“Come on, Hamang?”
“Hmmng?”
“You know? Just a little at a time so it doesn’t overflow?”
“Hmmng!”
The massive 70-meter-diameter water balloon—no, Hamang—replied maturely.
And he faithfully followed Lloyd’s instructions.
“One bucket!”
“Hmmng!”
Splish, splish, splish!
Hamang spat out water through the tube in his mouth.
From towering mountains dozens of kilometers away.
It was water melted from ancient snow piled at the peak.
Pure grade-one pristine water filled the bucket in an instant.
Lloyd’s white teeth shamelessly gleamed through his smile.
“Here, use this to power through the day!”
“Uh, y-yes…….”
A dazed citizen grunted as he carried off the full bucket.
He kept turning back, unable to shake his bewilderment.
He glanced at Lloyd’s composed smile.
Then up at the mountain-sized Hamang.
Then down at the clear water sloshing in his bucket.
What stroke of luck is this?
He tilted his head again.
Clutching enough water to last the day.
And headed home like that.
Most citizens were the same.
Lloyd’s face brimmed with a sense of accomplishment.
‘Good. Really good. This is how you do good deeds. Make a big show of it!’
It was true.
You had to make a big show.
Otherwise, it backfires.
‘Secret good deeds? Then no one knows.’
You just volunteer endlessly.
You tire yourself out, but no one acknowledges it.
Then there’s no reward or payoff.
That was never what he wanted.
‘I’m not that noble.’
There are many admirable people in this world.
Especially those who hide away, never showing themselves, performing quiet good deeds.
They expect no reward.
They endure their own hardships.
They don’t even seek recognition.
They just hope someone finds happiness from their deeds.
They practice true giving for that alone—such noble people fill this world.
But himself?
‘I’m not like that. No, I can’t be.’
He was different.
Not that noble.
He didn’t dare aspire to it.
Plus, unlike those noble souls, he sought clear rewards from his good deeds.
In other words, he wasn’t giving without expectation.
‘I do it expecting something in return. Like the villagers’ cooperation, for example.’
Lloyd watched the villagers receiving water.
They looked shocked and baffled.
But even amid that, their gazes toward him remained cold.
Suspicion of why this human was acting like this.
Doubt about what he was after.
He could feel the chill in their stares.
That’s why.
‘I need to change those looks. Ease their wariness and win their goodwill. That’ll be the key to this qanat project.’
The qanat.
The facility he’d boldly promised the sultan.
But building it wouldn’t be easy.
‘The distance is too far.’
He recalled the mountains from earlier that day.
The straight-line distance from surveying: a whopping 36 kilometers.
In Korean terms?
From Seoul Station straight to Munsan Township in Paju City.
From central Seoul to the front lines in one shot.
East to west?
From the eastern edge of Gangdong-gu to the western edge of Gangseo-gu past Gimpo International Airport—exactly 36 kilometers.
Southward, even from Seoul Station to Suwon.
An enormous distance.
‘So yeah. If we just dig straight? It’d take over a year to finish the qanat.’
Even mobilizing high-performance diggers(?) like Bangul and Haviel’s blasting would barely shorten it that much.
That was absolutely not what Lloyd wanted.
‘No way. I’m not rotting here for a year. Ridiculous.’
It wasn’t even his territory.
To help some stranger’s land thrive.
To negotiate with the sultan.
He had no intention of wasting a precious year of his life here.
That’s why.
‘There are tunnels underground all over this region.’
He recalled from the novel Iron-Blooded Knight.
Complex underground tunnels riddled the Kandahar region.
Not natural caves.
Nearly a thousand years ago.
Monks fleeing religious persecution had dug them while hiding here.
They’d dug for over a century.
Across three generations of seclusion.
‘Most of those tunnels remain intact even now. That’s how the rebels opposing the sultan used them as hideouts.’
Lloyd planned to use those tunnels.
From the mountains to here.
Connecting existing ones would be far easier than digging fresh through barren land.
‘Not perfectly straight, sure. But find the optimal path. Link the dozens of scattered tunnels with the shortest routes. Minimize digging distance. Ensure water flowing underground doesn’t leak elsewhere.’
Find that path.
Set it with surveying and design.
Plus, using existing tunnels had another advantage beyond shorter time and effort.
‘Dug underground, they’re waterproofed. Meaning, measures are in place to prevent existing groundwater from seeping in or leaking out.’
The key to qanat construction: keep groundwater from infiltrating the channel.
That prevents contamination of the mountain water.
Using pre-waterproofed tunnels?
Eliminates that worry.
Further cuts effort and time.
‘Right. That’s why I scanned underground during the survey earlier. But…….’
No tunnels found.
Even running underground scanning until his eyes burned.
The result was clear.
‘The monks’ tunnels are deeper than 5 meters underground.’
His underground scanning saw only up to 5 meters from the surface.
That was the limit.
Deeper? Invisible.
‘Can’t just dig around searching one by one.’
Too inefficient.
Even if tunnels abound.
Stumble on one by luck?
Still need to find dozens more scattered independently.
‘Better to spend a year digging straight through.’
Way too low efficiency.
Not what he wanted.
‘So this is the way.’
Lloyd resolved.
Ease the villagers’ wariness.
Win their goodwill and trust.
They’re locals.
Some already aid the rebels.
Gain their trust, and they’ll reveal the scattered tunnel locations.
With that determination, Lloyd doubled down on his showy good deeds(?).
After finishing water distribution.
He mobilized Podong.
“Right here to here. Dig straight through.”
“Podong!”
Hovabaat!
It dug a neat square hole.
Laid flat stones like tiles meticulously.
Poured in all the remaining water.
“Hamang? Got it?”
“Hmmng! Oeack—”
Hamang spewed out the rest.
The pit Podong dug and Lloyd shaped filled with sloshing water.
A makeshift pool—no, reservoir.
“Now, to prevent evaporation during the day, add this shade.”
He erected pillars around the reservoir.
Draped and secured large cloth over them.
Temporary shade to block the harsh sun—done.
“Whew.”
All tasks complete, dawn was breaking.
But Lloyd didn’t stop.
“What’s that?”
“A sign.”
Lloyd grinned at Haviel’s question.
He boldly planted it in front of the reservoir.
The sign read:
[This is a temporary reservoir created by Lloyd Frontera for the people of Kandara City. Water use is free, open to all. Fresh water will be fetched nightly and stored here.]
“…….”
Haviel’s eyes scanned the sign.
He read the tiny print below.
[To supply such pure water, Lloyd Frontera forgoes sleep nightly, trekking the arduous path to distant mountains. Solely for Kandara’s people! Feet blistered! Enduring personal toil! Even with illness and fever! Even collapsing from overwork! Yet expecting no reward! Pure as an angel, for your happiness and well-being! Lloyd Frontera fetches water with utmost sincerity today too.]
“…….”
Pure as an angel?
Enduring personal toil?
Haviel stared at Lloyd.
Lloyd snorted.
“What. Why. What.”
“…….”
“Why stare like a dead fish again.”
“You seem too conscienceless.”
“Conscienceless? Me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Honestly, Lord Lloyd, you barely lifted a finger for that water, right?”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s true. Sir Hamang drank and rolled hard to fetch it.”
“…….”
“And you just rode comfortably on Sir Koming’s back, flying around.”
“……Ahem! Cough! That’s advertising.”
“Advertising?”
“Exactly.”
Lloyd flashed a fresh smile like a conscienceless exploiter of this era.
“Advertising for beautiful results. Like packaging. Think locals care about the truth? No way. They’ll value the pure water they get. How many will fuss over how I fetched it or the process?”
“So, exaggeration and lies for the desired outcome.”
“Well, I don’t cheat in distribution, do I?”
True.
This was genuinely pure water.
Just the fetching process(?) dramatized with schmaltz.
The water itself: grade-one pristine meltwater.
Precious lifeblood for drought-stricken folk.
“You know how many conscienceless scumbags tamper with food and drink. Compared to them, I’m a saint. No faking origin. No mixing junk. And I don’t charge. Ugh. Such a beautiful soul—none other. Right?”
“…….”
Haviel shut his mouth.
Factually correct, but infuriating coming from Lloyd.
Thus, Lloyd planted the MSG-laden sign of exaggeration and lies by the reservoir.
But his showy good deeds didn’t end there.
“Come on, let’s go.”
“Huh?”
“Stop tilting your head. Time to promote.”
“…….”
Promote? What?
Haviel followed Lloyd in a daze.
The sun-blazed morning streets welcomed them.
That’s when it started.
Haviel fully appreciated Lloyd’s surprising true colors.
“Oh! Nice to see you, elder. How are you?”
“Huh? Uh?”
“Don’t remember me?”
Lloyd beamed.
An old man, suddenly grabbed by Lloyd on the morning street, stammered in surprise.
“Of course, you…….”
“Lloyd Frontera. Remember me? You saw me at dawn.”
“Uh, well…….”
“Yes, yes. I remember too. You were the 23rd to get water from me. Let’s see—yep, my memory’s spot on. Morning or night, how can you look so radiant? How was the water you took last night? Suit your taste?”
“Uh, hmm, of course…….”
“Good! Glad to hear it! Thank you!”
“Um, I…….”
“Not too cold or hot?”
“Naturally…….”
“Temperature perfect too. Whew, great. Thank you!”
He bowed repeatedly, hands clasped in handshake.
Smooth as oiled hinges.
Or a snappy flip phone.
Lloyd’s waist bent 90 degrees crisply.
He greeted the nameless elder like that, over and over.
While tirelessly touting last night’s deeds.
“Take care, elder!”
“Uh…… s-sure.”
The bewildered elder hurried off.
But Lloyd kept his iron face.
‘The bolder, the better.’
Hesitate, and it’s neither fish nor fowl.
He had to clearly show he was on their side.
Like a politician in full campaign mode, Lloyd steeled himself with affability.
Of course, he kept up the deeds.
Fetched water nightly from the mountains.
Refilled the reservoir to the brim.
Days, he greeted folks and promoted his works.
Two weeks of such diligence.
Finally, the first signs of change appeared in people’s attitudes toward him.