Didn't I Say to Make My Abilities Average in the Next Life?! Volume 8

by Funa

  They had managed to arrive having taken only the one ogre attack. Of course, one was plenty. Had their guard been fewer in number, or had there been any parties of lesser rank in the mix, someone might have been seriously injured or killed, not to mention the damages that the caravan might have taken. Being attacked by seven ogres at once was not exactly a commonplace occurrence.

  Regardless, they had now safely arrived at the gates of Glademarl.

  They were only able to arrive so early in the morning because they had made camp quite near the village the night before. Getting in late at night would have caused trouble for the villagers, the merchants deemed, and it was an unnecessary expense. Of course, the hunters, who typically stayed in inns whenever it was possible, could not understand this logic.

  It was not that they could not grasp the merchants’ explanation, but still—they had to wonder why they could not have just made camp in some empty corner of the village, or the village square, if expense was their only concern. It would be far more convenient, if only in terms of them obtaining water. The members of the Crimson Vow pondered this question, but the other two parties did not even seem to pause, as though this had been the pattern on every journey.

  “Oh, is it already that time again? Welcome to the village of Glademarl, merchants and friends!”

  Just shy of the village, they were greeted by a young girl who looked to be no more than ten years old.

  Oh my goodness, my very first dwarf! She’s so little and cute! Wait, no, I won’t be deceived! She might look like a primary schooler, but she might well be a mother of three! Her speech patterns are definitely adult-like, no doubt about it!

  Adjusting her own first impression, Mile piped up, addressing the youthful-looking dwarf.

  “Pardon me, but this is our party’s first time here. We’re pleased to meet you. And I hope you’ll forgive my rudeness, but—how old are you?”

  Oh my gods! thought the others.

  It was a straight pitch, right down the middle. Or really, a beanball. The group was flabbergasted at Mile’s candor.

  “You said it yourself, kid—you are pretty darn rude. But whatever. If you wanna know, I’m ten!”

  “She’s a straight shooter, too!!!” the group chorused.

  What a two-faced trick! I thought she was an auntie masquerading as a child, but she really is a child! Dwarves are formidable!

  The first round was a loss for Mile—not that she had any idea who or what she was fighting against.

  The dwarven girl did not have a beard, and her body was not the short, stout figure you would expect of most dwarves. She was a bit shorter than the 144 centimeters that was the average height for ten-year-old girls across the humanoid races, and a little bit pudgy, giving her somewhat of a roly-poly appearance.

  Apparently, dwarven growth rates were the same as those of any other humanoid race during their formative years. It was just that their heights topped out a bit sooner than the others. Elves worked much the same way.

  If, as per her previous conjecture, Mile’s height was the average of the heights of all the humanoid races—humans, elves, dwarves, and such—then it would be fortunate if she ended up just a slightly short human, with the soaring heights and elegant features of elves canceling out most of the dwarven features. Except for the areas where the combination of their features only amplified her lack of certain other parts…

  The caravan passed by the girl and headed for the square in the center of the village. The first order of business was to begin selling off all of the goods they had brought. For dinner, they hoped to make a meal out of fresh fish and vegetables purchased from the villagers. There was no time for that in the middle of the day, so for lunch they would eat the food they had brought with them.

  As travelers rarely stopped by this village, situated as it was in the middle of the mountains, there were no inns or anything of the sort. There was a small eatery, or rather, a tavern, but it could not be expected to host a sudden influx of twenty-plus people in addition to its usual crowd. They would need to have stocked up and prepared extra food ahead of time. Therefore, the caravan had no choice but to take care of their own amenities.

  The Crimson Vow initially presumed that they would simply cook their meals using the ingredients that Mile already had in storage, as they did when they were camping, but they were informed that they ought to drop a bit of money in the village while they were there. If they did not buy some foodstuffs from the locals, as the merchants typically did, the villagers might take offense.

  In a tiny village like this, the huntsmen and butchers and food sellers might all be friends or relatives of the smiths, or the village chief. Meaning that there were quite a few potential pitfalls…

  The leader of the caravan went to give his regards to the village chief, while the other merchants began unloading their wares from their carts, setting up an open-air market.

  “Hm? What are you doing there, Mile?” Pauline asked, watching curiously as Mile brought out a long table and began lining up various bottles and jugs upon it. Behind Mile was one particularly large bottle.

  “Oh, well, I brought some liquor with me. I thought that the dwarves might like it. It’s strong, high-quality stuff…”

  Mutter mutter.

  A growing din rose up from the dwarves, who were standing nearby watching the merchants work, all hoping to be the first to snap up the best goods for themselves.

  “High quality, huh?”

  “There’s no reason she’d have brought it all the way here if it were cheap stuff. Wonder if I should be intrigued?”

  A gaggle of dwarves, all short and stout and fully bearded—very much the sort you could point to and say, “Yep! Now those are the kind of dwarves you hear about in fairy tales!”—slowly began to approach.

  “Yes, of course! Hmm, I suppose I can let you have a little sample. Only one sample of each, though. If I let everyone have as much as they wanted, you’d drink up all my stock!”

  The dwarves gave a wry laugh, as if to say, “She’s not wrong!”

  Out of fairness, they chose eight trustworthy individuals from amongst themselves, each serving as a representative of one of the three varieties of wine and five types of spirits. Each was handed a sample. Among the spirits there were those similar to whiskey, distilled from corn and wheat, and those similar to brandy, distilled from fruits. Things like sugarcane and molasses were expensive, so one did not often see rum-type products on the market.

  The representatives each took one cup from the table and then passed it down the line so that each person could taste a tiny bit—after they had taken the first sip, of course. They all drank from the same cups; there was no one here who would be bothered by a thing like that.

  They each smelled the cup, took a bit into their mouths, appeared to roll it around on their tongues, and then drank it down, all with very serious looks upon their faces.

  This is kinda creepy, thought Mile, and one could not really blame her. It was a bit creepy to see this many bearded old-timers all in one place, looking so serious about anything.

  “I’ll take ’em! One of each!”

  “I’ll take two each of the spirits!”

  “Now wait a minute! Don’t just run off with ’em while everyone else is still tasting!”

  “I’ve just gotta run home and get my money, I’ll be right back. Three of each, can you hold ’em for me? You better not sell out while I’m gone, okay?!”

  The crowd was split into two: those who wished to buy on the spot and those who were worried that everything would sell out before they had a chance to. There were also those who did not have enough money on hand and had to rush home for more and those who rushed in to purchase without even tasting, based on the reactions of the eight representative dwarfs.

  “She really nailed this one, huh? Well, I guess I’m not surprised, if they can buy these from her for only twice what you’d pay in town…”

  The other merchants were stunned to se
e how Mile’s stall was flourishing. Of course, as much as everyone was running to her now, they would still have to buy salt and other staples, and any luxury items they wanted, so the others would begin to turn a profit too once the hype had died down. As a result, the merchants were not especially bothered.

  They were still stunned, however, both at what an incredible trick it was that she would have so much storage space and at the bargain prices for which she was selling her stock.

  Including the round-trip travel and the stay in the village, this expedition would take 8 days in total. There were 15 guards and 7 in the merchant party. Totaling that, you got 176 man-days. The average expected allowance to support one person per day, when factoring in the danger, was 2 half-gold per day, which totaled up to 352 half-gold. In terms of Japanese money, that was 3.52 million yen.

  When further considering the necessary expenditures for a business and matters such as the wear and tear to carts and horses, it was necessary to add in about 600 half-gold in order to turn a sufficient profit.

  That number was for gross profit, however, not a net return. In other words, it included the seed funds to purchase goods from the village for resale. It was important to allow for additional funds here, so that they did not lose everything in the event of a bandit or monster attack. Even if they were able to make a safe escape, moving too hastily would leave the horses and carts and a portion of their goods ruined.

  And yet, here Mile was, selling such a heavy, easily breakable, unnecessarily high-risk item such as liquor, for a mere 100 percent markup. Such a thing would be utterly impossible without that ability of hers…

  Envy overflowing, the merchants could not but heave a sigh at the thought of this most rare and precious blossom, who would never be theirs to hold.

  “So then, Miley, how much profit did you bring in for us?” Pauline asked with a grin.

  “Huh? This was my business. I bought the goods on my own time and sold them on my own time. It has absolutely nothing to do with the job that we accepted, so… Eeek!”

  Pauline continued to beam. However, the feeling her expression conveyed was a complete 180 from what it had been moments prior.

  “So then. Miley. How much profit did you bring in for us?”

  “Uhh, oh ah, uhm, aaah…”

  Mile blanched as she sensed the black aura emanating from Pauline’s entire body.

  “Guess even the little lady’s got it rough…”

  The merchants who had been watching Mile with envy could not help but gaze upon her with pity now.

  “Pauline, that’s a little…”

  “The last time Mile made any money on the side, carrying the goods for those merchants who hired us, it was something we all agreed was ‘part of the job,’ right? As guards, our job is to protect the caravan, and that includes both the people and their property. This time is a little different, though. I’m sure even you can see that, Pauline.”

  “Grngh…” Pauline grumbled at Mavis and Reina’s chiding.

  Unlike Pauline, Mile had little attachment to money. However, even though the other members of the Crimson Vow were her friends—or rather, because they were her friends—she wished to remain a bit independent when it came to matters of cash flow. After all, there were plenty of stories the world over of friendships torn asunder on account of money.

  She never borrowed money from anywhere but the bank. More importantly, she never lent or deposited money anywhere but the bank. Even if threatened, she never handed over money without reason. If she did so even once, she’d have people nipping at her heels for the rest of eternity.

  This was a lesson that her father had instilled into her and her younger sister time after time in her previous life, and reborn or not, it was a teaching she intended to uphold.

  And so, Mile continued peddling her wares. Once the dwarves realized that she had a practically endless supply, those who had only purchased a few bottles at the beginning, out of consideration for others, came back for more. Those who did not have enough money on hand rushed back to their homes yet again. Until, finally…

  “That’s all of it!!!”

  Mile stood up and stretched, finally having reached a stopping point. Behind her, Pauline gnawed furiously on her handkerchief.

  Somehow she had sold out of the massive amount of liquor she had brought with her, and all before noon. After that, business began to boom for the other merchants as well. Given that they had visited this village many times before, they already knew exactly how much of which items they would be able to sell. To have a large amount of stock left over would be a big loss for any merchant.

  While this village aimed to be as self-sufficient as possible, there were still certain things that they could only import from other places, such as salt and medicine and other specialized items. Then there were those items that, while they were not absolutely necessary for survival, were still something of a necessity. Paper, soap, and other such items always sold well. And because they were not bulky or easily damaged, they did not need to be sold at an absurd price.

  Finally, there were the so-called luxury items, such as spices and high-quality fabrics.

  There were clothes and furs produced within the village as well, but they were of poor quality. Rough and tumble as they might be, even dwarven women liked to have nice things to dress up in for special occasions, like festivals and weddings—outfits that you might call their Sunday best.

  Glademarl was a mountaintop village, so naturally the journey had been an ascent. The merchants prioritized keeping their loads light for speed and safety of travel over carrying goods that would not turn much of a profit. They needed to sell plenty in order to restock, for keeping too much cash during their journey could be a danger.

  And of course, however much the villagers might request something, there were still some things that they could not carry. So, folks normally had to forgive the fact that they could not stock alcohol, which was not only heavy and easily damaged by bad roads, but also exclusively a luxury item. For a regular merchant, it was not possible to sell the bottles for a price that offset the effort involved in transporting them—so all they brought were a few select samples to be given as gifts for the sake of currying favor.

  That said, there were ale and crude spirits produced even in the village, and most people drank just to get drunk—another reason there was no real need for the merchants to shoulder the risk of supplying alcohol.

  “What? I understand that you all face dangers to transport necessities here for the sake of the village, but shouldn’t you be selling your goods at prices that properly reflect the danger, effort, and expense of getting those goods here? Why are you allowing yourselves to take in such a narrow profit? If those goods are really items that they truly need, wouldn’t the villagers be willing to pay a higher price for them? And if they won’t pay, then they must not be items that they really need, in which case there’s no reason for you all to add to your own burden by carrying those unnecessary items up here!” Pauline said indignantly, having heard the whole explanation from the merchants while they camped. Even if it concerned someone else’s affairs, Pauline had a low boiling point when it came to any mercantile practices that she deemed to be irrational.

  “A merchant’s life comes with a lot of difficulties,” one of them replied, shifting uncomfortably. Of course, this comment was not directed at Pauline, but at someone else entirely…

  Just as Mile was in the process of packing up her empty stall, the caravan leader, who had headed off to the village chief’s house immediately upon their arrival, returned to the village square. While he was gone, apparently to take care of various negotiations, the clerk from his shop who had accompanied him had handled his sales. It was for this reason that he had been the only one to bring along an employee.

  Upon his return, the leader’s expression was not a happy one.

  “I know it’s a bit early, but why don’t we have lunch? Everyone, close up shop for now!”

>   Though he had directed them to close up, this was still but an open air market. All they had to do was place a little sign saying, Out to Lunch, which had apparently been prepared ahead of time, on their register—the whole process was over in a matter of seconds.

  The villagers were all well aware that the merchants typically took a break for lunch at midday, so they had already purchased anything that they desperately needed. Afterwards they could window shop at their leisure, so there was no real hurry. For now, the villagers all returned to their homes. There were many places out in the countryside where folks ate only two meals a day, but a large percentage of the population here were involved in heavy physical labor, so they made sure to get their three squares.

  With the wagons lined up at their backs, the caravan parties gnawed away at their travel meals.

  While they were within the village, all of the food tucked away in Mile’s storage was off-limits, and any of the ingredients purchased from the villagers were meant for dinner. For the sake of saving money and time, lunch would be a simple affair. The food sellers and their dependents in the village could not complain about that much.

  As he chewed on his hardtack, one of the merchants turned to the leader. “So, what’s the bad news?”

  Having known each other for a long time, he could guess that something had gone awry just based on the air around the leader on his return. The third merchant, of course, looked as though he had come to the same conclusion.

  It was not yet noon, but the leader had gathered them all together the moment he returned. He had directed them to sit with their backs to the wagons in such a way that they could easily survey their surroundings and guard against any eavesdroppers. From these clues, the situation had become clear to everyone.