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< Chapter 4: Giant Slave of the Small Village (4) >
“Back already?”
“Yes. Did you have lunch?”
“Yeah, had something simple earlier with someone from the Sian side.”
The village chief of Florin, Valentine’s office, was far too cramped for his large frame.
Because of that, Rotem, as always, had to stay extremely alert so as not to break anything.
“Here, the mushrooms.”
“Mm.”
Rotem skillfully took truffles out of his herbal bag.
At the beginning of their trade, Valentine would carefully inspect their condition and quality every time, but now that complete trust had been established between him and Rotem’s mushrooms, he only gave them a brief “inspection.”
“They’re good as always. Just in case I should ask—there won’t be any issues with supply, right?”
“Yeah. As long as I don’t suddenly get greedy, I think the spawning grounds can keep producing at this rate.”
Rotem’s explanation sounded convincing to Valentine because, if anything, Rotem delivered moderate quantities rather than sudden large batches.
“Good. Thanks to this, we’ll be able to extend the contract with the Sian trading company.”
An unexpected word came out of the village chief’s mouth, making Rotem’s thick eyebrows twitch.
“Excuse me? Extend it? Demand for elixirs in Calpheon must be increasing?”
“It’s not just elixirs. Herbs, potions… I heard from Keplan they’re also hoarding ore and ingots. Feels like they’re preparing for war or something…”
A small village like Florin had no real influence over political currents, so from the chief’s perspective, it was enough to simply maximize profit according to the situation.
And Rotem judged that now was the right time to bring up his request.
“Um, Chief.”
“Yeah?”
“I have something I’d like to ask.”
“What is it?”
After sweeping the mushrooms into his bag, Valentine adjusted his large glasses and looked up at the giant.
Rotem, meeting that small face, did not hesitate.
“I’d like to buy one of the alchemy workshops in the village.”
“…A workshop?”
A feeling unfamiliar to Rotem appeared on Valentine’s face.
Pure surprise.
“Yes. I came here as a laborer, but since I started harvesting these mushrooms, I haven’t really been functioning as a contracted worker.
But my contract period still remains, and I can’t stop gathering mushrooms or herbs anyway, so I thought I might as well try doing something with alchemy inside the village.”
“…Hmm.”
“Ah, well, if it’s uncomfortable to grant a workshop to an outsider, I understand—”
Rotem tried to preemptively interpret Valentine’s hesitation, but the village chief raised his hand and shook his head vigorously.
“Hm? No, no, it’s not that. There are some unused workshops anyway, and it’s better for someone to use them than leave them idle.”
“Then…”
Rotem trailed off, waiting for the chief’s response.
Valentine stroked the herbal bag, deep in thought.
Rotem couldn’t guess what he was worrying about, but the answer came surprisingly lightly.
“Well, I suppose it’s fine. Good. We have Workshop 4 and 6 available. Which one do you want?”
“Thank you. Since I’m large, I think number 6 would be better.”
“Alright. Lease or purchase?”
“I’ll buy it.”
Valentine smiled at Rotem’s unwavering answer.
“Wow, you must have made quite a bit of money. Well, it’s all village money anyway.”
“Haha.”
As Rotem laughed awkwardly, Valentine opened a drawer in his desk, rummaged around, and took out a large key, placing it on the table.
Of course, “large” was only relative to the Shai race; in Rotem’s giant hand, it was simply an ordinary key.
“I’ll prepare the contract and send it to the workshop this afternoon.
It used to belong to an adventurer, so the alchemy tools and experimental equipment shouldn’t be too small for you to use.
If you need anything adjusted for your size, just let me know. I’ll throw that in for free.”
“Thank you, Chief.”
Rotem stood up abruptly to show his gratitude, but ended up hitting his head on the ceiling and a shelf.
After quickly tidying the mess he caused, he finally managed to bow properly.
The giant hurried out of the room, and the village chief of Florin watched his back with a faint smile.
“Phew.”
It didn’t seem like the workshop had been abandoned for too long—the dust wasn’t unbearably thick.
However, alchemy was extremely sensitive to even minor environmental variables, so Rotem spent the entire afternoon cleaning it.
Only by evening did he finally achieve a satisfactory level of cleanliness.
[Alchemy, huh. You can actually do it?]
The Black Spirit appeared in front of Rotem, sitting on a chair in the corner and cooling off with a beer.
There was no mocking intent in its question, so Rotem simply nodded lightly.
“I didn’t waste my time here. Theory alone isn’t enough though, so I need to sharpen my skills before Master Tulkas arrives again.”
The alchemy tools looked surprisingly clean and well-maintained for something that had been used by someone else.
Rotem carefully stroked a massive distiller beside him.
“No matter how good the materials are, if the craftsman is poor, the result will be poor too.”
[Well, yeah. Let’s say you become an alchemy master through practice. Are you planning to sell potions and elixirs directly to merchants instead of mushrooms?]
“It’s similar, but when you sell through a trading company, middlemen fees and commissions get added in the distribution process.
Even if the final sale price is high, what I actually earn gets reduced significantly.
So rather than chasing a higher final price, I’d rather sell at a fixed price, in fixed quantities, on a regular schedule, without going through a trading company.”
[Without a trading company? Is that even possible?]
The Sian Trading Company essentially dominated commerce around Calpheon and surrounding regions.
A way to sell goods independently and regularly while avoiding their attention?
The Black Spirit’s doubt was natural, but Rotem remained calm.
“There is. Though you won’t get bonuses for quality, and you’ll have to compete in bidding wars.”
Just then, a knock sounded at the workshop door.
Rotem quickly emptied his beer and opened it, revealing a familiar Shai girl looking up at him.
“The chief told me to bring this.”
The same girl who had once scolded Rotem after dumping her assigned task onto him.
“Ah, thank you.”
Rotem took the envelope and immediately checked its contents. It was the workshop purchase contract the chief had mentioned.
“Fill it out and give it to me tomorrow. You know where I am.”
“Yes.”
“….”
Even after delivering the message, the girl didn’t leave.
While Rotem read the contract, she quickly scanned the workshop with her large eyes, and when their eyes met again, there was clear discomfort in hers.
“You must be making a lot of money these days. A slave who’s barely worked a few months already bought a workshop?”
“Yes… I just found a good mushroom spawning ground.”
“I heard. Truffles, right? How strange.
I’ve lived here my whole life, wandering everywhere looking for herbs and mushrooms, and I’ve never even seen or heard of a truffle field.”
“Well, I guess I got lucky.”
“Yeah. You’re really lucky, aren’t you?”
By now, Rotem could clearly sense the intent behind her tone, so he saw no reason to continue the conversation.
“Yes. If there’s nothing else, may I excuse myself? I still have things to organize.”
Unlike the girl, filled with irritation and dissatisfaction, Rotem’s response remained calmly indifferent.
And just as she seemed about to snap again, Rotem closed the door without hesitation, cutting off her voice.
[You’re pretty hated.]
Returning to his chair, Rotem found the Black Spirit already hovering above it with a thick grin.
“It can’t be helped. Even for villagers born and raised here, getting your own workshop takes years of hard work—if you can even manage it.
So a giant who just showed up from nowhere suddenly finds a mushroom field and buys a workshop? Of course they’d hate it.”
[Hmm. The chief didn’t say much because of the contract and supply needs, but the others in the village are probably starting to get suspicious.]
“Suspicious?”
Rotem sat down, and the Black Spirit, having lost its seat, floated upward.
[Like that Shai said—someone who’s only been here less than a year finds a spawning ground that even lifelong villagers couldn’t find?
Of course they’d be suspicious.]
“Hmm…”
In a way, it was understandable.
Florin was famous for high-quality potions and elixirs.
Naturally, the quality and cultivation of herbs and mushrooms used as ingredients were strictly controlled.
For non-cultivated resources—especially certain mushrooms—once a spawning ground was discovered, the village would manage it to ensure long-term quality.
In return, discoverers were rewarded with things like workshop rights or access to traditional potion recipes.
But Rotem, being an outsider, was exempt from contributing his discovery while still benefiting from a workshop—an obvious special privilege.
It was no surprise that some villagers, including that girl, showed clear displeasure.
[As you know, I can’t be seen. So if anyone sees you and me “working” in a cave—]
“I know. They’ll call me a heretic and drag in an Elion priest.”
[Just be careful. We still have work to do, and this is your workshop now.]
“Yeah, yeah.”
Even as he replied, Rotem’s gaze kept scanning the workshop.
His first workshop in his life.
Yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that this might be both his beginning—and possibly his end.
He let out a long breath and nodded quietly.
