Newcomers (8)
"This bastard—if a dwarf can do it, fine, but doubting it and making a fuss?!"
"No, I just can't believe it. And why isn't something that good in the dwarf mines?"
"Simple! Dwarves are filthy bastards who hate water touching their bodies!"
Ukun exploded in anger before calmly explaining the principle to me. From what I gathered, it worked on the same basic idea as pumping water in and out of the bathhouse. Except this time, it was scaled up to cover every room in a massive four-story building.
"Alright. Let's do it. What's the estimate?"
"Hard to say for sure till we try, but probably around three thousand gold coins."
"Three thousand... Hmm..."
Three thousand coins—that was exactly what Elua had paid me for Lurtjog's corpse last time. Guess that's where it'll go. World sure works in mysterious ways. One swing of the sword, and a four-story building pops up.
"Fine. Proceed. How long will it take?"
"Assuming the elders help... Just under a month."
Building a fifty-room, four-story dorm in under a month... Insane.
"I'll front the cash, so handle materials and everything. I'll get the building permit from city hall tomorrow."
"Just have the beer ready."
That night, as I lay contentedly in bed, a rowdy commotion echoed from the passage to the bathhouse. The half-elves, fresh from baths and brushing their teeth, were heading back to the inn. Soon, their chatter filled the stairs and third-floor hallway.
Hah. Cute little things.
I'd fired all the troublesome human staff and hired the half-elves instead. With city hall subsidizing part of their wages, thirty kids cost about the same as ten humans. They were just brats now, but feed 'em well and raise 'em right, and they'd pull their weight like Marim.
Call it a value investment betting on future growth.
Sure, there'd be some chaos for a while, but so what? What we offered was one-of-a-kind in the kingdom. If seeing a few half-elves ruined it for them, they could go elsewhere.
Once the dorm was up, I'd convert the entire third floor here to guest rooms and move all the half-elves over. Keep running this place as an inn in the meantime to prep. Then bulldoze the old Grancis merchant land and build the hotel there. Hotel, monster zoo, and bathhouse alone would fill a hundred staff slots easy. If I asked Mideronde, I could open branches everywhere and link 'em with dimensional gates.
Who knew a little inn started on a whim would grow this big. Heh heh heh heh heh...
As I chuckled to myself, a weird noise came from outside the shutters. I quietly cracked them open and peered down. There, huddled in the corner of the inn's backyard, was Marim, curled up on a stack of firewood with her face buried in her knees, sobbing.
Under the chill early-winter moonlight, her red hair looked faded and dull.
What the hell? It's freezing out there...
Marim kept sniffling, wiping her eyes with her sleeve, then slowly stood. She blew her nose hard one last time and slipped back inside through the rear door.
City hall officials came to inspect the dorm site beforehand. They checked the blueprints against the actual foundation spot and gave the thumbs-up.
"Permit'll take a bit, but you can start now—no issues."
The dwarves jumped right in. They scurried around town on their short legs, rounding up every supplier and haggling fiercely. With those burly, scowling muscleheads gripping hammers and chisels, the merchants had no choice but to slash prices.
Ukun whispered something to Mideronde, then summoned an adult Tene Gano to the site.
"Gah?! You mad bastard! What the hell?!"
I'd gone to bring beer and yelped at the house-sized beast blinking its innocent eyes.
"Shut your trap. Bigger the building, more solid the foundation. Gotta dig at least one underground floor deep. Go fetch that demon girl."
With Pelle's help, the dwarves put the Tene Gano to work, excavating at insane speed.
Using a monster for construction... Pretty damn creative.
Made me think back to building the bathhouse. Horses straining to haul marble slabs back then. If we'd used a Tene Gano—or even a hippo-like Duki—it would've been a breeze.
Hmm... Yeah... That's the play...
Posters went up all over town under the mayor's name. They explained the anti-species-discrimination law in plain terms, with super-detailed punishments for violations.
Della, back from errands, said the vibe wasn't as negative as expected.
"Some jerk called half-elves filthy, but others told him to shut it."
"They never knew why they discriminated before—just followed the crowd."
Kosa, lounging in the hall after ages, spoke softly.
Not zero conflict, though. Some guests at the inn or zoo griped about half-elf hands "tainting" things. Bystanders or staff nipped it in the bud. Stubborn ones needed Orkog or me to show up.
Bigger hotels had their own security. Maybe we needed that soon. Talk to Hardo the merc captain...
Hildeva issued the half-elves identity cards registered to our inn. Third-class ones, limiting inter-city travel, but hey—it was a start. Verabche wasn't some savage land settled by fists; outside the system, you were nothing. This meant they were finally people in the kingdom.
The little ones, illiterate, grinned like it was a gift. The older kids clutched theirs and sobbed.
Marim was the same. She stared at her name-embossed card forever.
"Snap out of it, kid. No escaping work now. Means we can hunt you down anywhere."
"Huh...? Oh... yeah... haha..."
She laughed awkwardly, dazed.
"Good. Now get to work."
"Yes..."
Marim yelled at her siblings to hustle, then slung on her delivery bag.
"Boss."
"What?"
Marim eyed me, scratching her head irritably.
"Nothin'."
"Jeez. Go already."
She herded her delivery siblings out. Watching her wrangle the rugrats, she almost seemed like a young mom. Kinda heartbreaking.
Everything was smooth. Half-elves hired no hassle, legally protected. Lingering prejudice, sure, but it'd fade in Rosens at least. Their racial quickness made 'em great workers—staff loved it.
Dwarves blasted foundations with the Tene Gano. Its strength was unreal; a few snout digs did what dozens of men couldn't. They even overshot, yelling and whacking its hide with poles to stop it.
Perfect. Except one thing. Minus their fiery-haired leader.
Marim stayed gloomy, unhappy as hell. Asked what was wrong, she just said "all good." Staff clueless too.
Kosa cracked it.
"She's overwhelmed with gratitude."
"Huh? Then why the sulk?"
Kosa smiled faintly.
"Not sulking. Never learned how to show thanks."
"Figures. Can't even say it?"
But I got it. Despised her whole life for an unchosen half-breed blood. Human distrust, hate—unimaginable. Never tasted kindness once.
Now slammed with more than she could handle. Siblings in a warm inn with wages. ID cards making 'em citizens.
Grateful, sure, but no clue how to express it. Frustrating as hell for her.
Right. Play it cool, act like nothing happened. Wait till she's mature enough—thanks can come later.
A few nights later, heading upstairs late, I sensed something off at my door. I eased it open quietly. Room empty at first glance. But my instincts screamed someone else was there.