by Fuse
But Mjöllmile’s confident smile banished my concerns. “Heh-heh-heh… Sir Rimuru, I hope you won’t underestimate me that much. Just watch as I satisfy your expectations and make this into a massive success!”
Glad I could rely on him. He didn’t run the underground scene in his hometown with his mouth alone. That brazen attitude put my mind at ease.
“Heh-heh-heh… Mollie, you have earned my trust. Make me proud!”
“And even if you do make a mistake or two, I’ll make sure it becomes a success in the public eye. Anyone who defies Sir Rimuru’s will shall face the might of my iron fists!”
“Um, Rigurd, you can’t do that. That’s why I want Mjöllmile to do well for us, all right?”
“Never fear. I will leave no evidence—”
“You are quite an impressive official, Sir Rigurd,” murmured Mjöllmile.
“No, please, I mean it. If you do anything, you’re on your own, all right?”
Still, we exchanged dark smiles with each other. Rigurd and Mjöllmile weren’t unfamiliar with each other; I trusted they were comfortable with this relationship. Knowing that helped me relax. And really, I didn’t care why people decided to accept Mjöllmile’s presence, as long as they did.
Now, to go back to our respective groups and prepare for the Founder’s Festival. Things were humming along now.
That night:
“This is insanity… This must be insanity! This is far posher than even the grandest lodging in Englesia!”
Mjöllmile began shouting the moment he entered his new residence. He must have liked the place. I was happy.
“There is running water, magic-driven burners, baths, and these toilets. Every advanced piece of equipment this town has to offer is available to us.”
The elated servant’s report almost made Mjöllmile faint on the spot.
“R-Rimuru… Er, Sir Rimuru? Are you sure all this luxury is suitable for me?”
Hey, man, this all comes standard in Tempest.
Of course, given the servants he brought along, Mjöllmile was living in a larger mansion, not your normal kind of place. I had taken note of his residence in Blumund and made sure we had something similar for him here. There were ten individual apartments, rooms with small kitchens and toilets. These were linked by a large shared bath and a dining hall, allowing Mjöllmile to share this home with a decent number of servants.
“You needed this, right? This was cheaper than building separate homes for each of them, too. If anyone wants their own house, they’re free to save up for one.”
I couldn’t build homes for them all, so I kind of reused a building we had set up for an administrator-level resident, but everyone seemed happy enough with it. The house came at no charge, too—I mean, with all the money I had made off Mjöllmile, I really couldn’t charge him. And that money was gonna keep flowing, too. This was a necessary expense, you could say—a steal, even.
“Y-yes, true… But this is the standard you enjoy here? Then what about the more economical lodgings in the southwest?”
“Yeah, they don’t get individual baths in the rooms, but they do get toilets. There’s a low-cost public bath nearby, and some of the inns have their own baths for free.”
“I see… Yes, you did talk about making this town into a kind of health resort, didn’t you? Now it makes sense to me. So you offer this level of services to even the commoners, not just the nobility or well-funded areas? Yes, we certainly can expect some adventurers here!”
“Pretty easy living, huh?”
“Not just ‘pretty easy.’ This is the best you’d find all around the West. If adventurers can find a steady income in this town, we’re gonna have a lot of excitement pretty soon.”
“Hmm…”
“…?! Ah! Right! Yes, Sir Rimuru!”
Er, what? Mjöllmile was shouting at me again. I had no idea about what.
“That’s what the Dungeon is for! Well done, Sir Rimuru! I couldn’t be more in awe of you right now!”
“Oh. Um, yeah. Definitely.”
What’s he talking about?
“The adventurers can hunt the monsters in the labyrinth. I thought this was a bit of charity for adventurers short on work, now that the Forest of Jura is more stable…but heavens, you had thought that far ahead?”
Ch-charity?!
I mean, yeah, there aren’t as many wild monsters around Jura as there used to be, but…like, the Dungeon’s just a fun attraction, so…
“This can work. This can really work! We’re seeing more adventurers out of a job, what with monster counts dwindling and all. Perhaps some can use the Dungeon as their workplace. Plus, we’ll be selling healing potions and adventuring gear nearby, right? Picture this: What if this town isn’t just a tourist site or health spa, but someplace where they can permanently reside? With all these inns providing fantastic service, a coliseum attracting tourists, and a dungeon providing thrills and a potentially decent wage…”
Um…was that what we built the Dungeon for?
I did intend to offer money for whatever the adventurers earned in there, but that was kind of like offering buybacks on carnival prizes. But was Mjöllmile’s line of thinking worth hearing out?
“Wow, Mollie. You only just came here today, and you already worked it out?”
“Ah, of course, sir. If there’s money to be sniffed out, I’d never lose a single coin to you!”
“Heh-heh-heh… You’re incorrigible.”
“Ha-ha-ha! Ah, don’t be silly. It wouldn’t be possible without you!”
“But thinking and doing are different things, of course. I was hoping I could leave you to work out the rest of the plan…”
“Oh, would you? I’d be glad to help!”
I guess the plan was now to let adventurers “work” in the Dungeon, and Mjöllmile was kind enough to accept the job. He already had a ton on his plate, I knew. Talk about energetic.
But… Hmm. I didn’t think that far, but I totally overlooked the idea of adventurers living here. To me, the dungeon attraction was kind of a gamble—maybe some customers would make money off it, but the majority would leave with their wallets pretty thoroughly emptied. But have a permanent group of adventurers hunt monsters in there? There’s no stopping Mjöllmile’s imagination, huh? I love getting his insights.
Unlike forest creatures, there was no chance of overhunting and wrecking the ecosystem. Much better, really, to have the hunters cull the monsters’ numbers before they multiplied too much, then buy the materials they harvested from them. With Veldora around, there was no need to worry about where the magicules would come from—the monsters would be constantly replenished.
This actually might be a brilliant idea! It’d give adventurers money to go spend around the city and help fill Tempest’s coffers, which would allow us to provide more support to them. We could process the materials they hunted for us, and I suppose we could even export them to other countries. Magic crystals could be shipped off as is, although we wouldn’t export them all—we had our own uses for them.
Maybe this would be the tipping point that made the Free Guild build a post in town, too. We could give them exclusive rights to the dungeon business, so we weren’t in competition. And if they paid the adventurers directly, I thought, that would also open access to foreign capital for us—capital we could use to import goods from other nations. With imports cut off from Eurazania at the moment, I wasn’t sure the produce and grains we farmed would be enough to keep the adventurers full, so some imports might become necessary.
Besides, I wanted Tempest to become a trade hub; that was part of the idea from the start, and I needed to think of ways to move larger amounts of goods and money around. There were plans in my mind. That was why I made sure the highways were designed to be pretty wide, after all. We’d paved only half the width of the roads; the other half was bare earth. I planned to put rails down on that land someday, and with the rails would come freight trains.
“After that, I suppos
e it all comes down to advertising.”
Mjöllmile pulled me back down to earth before I floated off too much into fantasizing about my dreams. No, no need to go too crazy yet. It’d take time to develop rails, much less the trains that’d run on them. First, we needed to pull off this massive party without a hitch and make a good impression on the world.
“You’re right. This isn’t advertising, exactly, but I’ve sent out invitations to world leaders. Journalists from several nations are working with me as well, so I think we should see a pretty decent turnout.”
“Oh? Good to hear, Sir Rimuru. I was just thinking that we’d best start negotiating with royalty and nobility before the winter thaw if we want them to join in, but you’ve already planned ahead, eh? In that case, I’ll contact the larger merchant operations I work with and let them know about the festival.”
“Could you do that?”
“Certainly. I’m already prepared to, in fact. I intended to send out messengers once I scoped out how things were in Tempest.”
Mjöllmile grinned at me. He was so useful.
“Ah, my hat goes off to you, Mollie. You never leave a single stone unturned, do you?”
“I could say the same of you, Sir Rimuru! The foresight you’ve shown with all this is a far cry from anything I could ever manage.”
Another exchange of knowing smiles. I think Mjöllmile’s far more of a schemer than I ever was, but I’ll take the compliment.
“Sir Rimuru,” he continued, turning more serious as he stood up, “there is no way this plan of yours could possibly fail. If you have what it takes to build a nation up this far, I’m sure you could guide just about anyone to success!”
I’m not sure about “anyone,” but he did help put my mind at ease. I suppose Mjöllmile was impressed enough by our town’s food, environment, and creature comforts. That’s why he was reacting that way, and perhaps it was a sign of our future promised success, even.
I stood up and extended a hand to him. “I’m counting on you, Mollie!”
“Certainly,” he replied, gripping it in a handshake. From that moment, I was sure we had it in the bag.
That night, we held a big dinner at Mjöllmile’s mansion. Afterward, he and I were relaxing together over some tea when he whispered something to a servant and had him go fetch someone. This someone, or rather someones, turned out to be Bydd and Gob’emon.
I had thought Gob’emon was staying undercover as he kept watch over Mjöllmile. If he was here, had he introduced himself to the guy or something? And that wasn’t even my main concern.
“Sir Rimuru, I understand that kind Gob’emon here was sent to protect me?”
I thought about playing dumb for a moment, but I guess Mjöllmile already knew he was here on my orders. No point trying to hide it.
“Well, yeah— But, Gob’emon, uh, what’s up with your arm?”
I kinda had to ask. Half of his right one was missing, ending at the elbow.
“S-Sir Rimuru! My—my sincerest apologies!” He kneeled down, head virtually to the floor. “I made a terrible mistake and exposed my identity to Mjöllmile. This arm was my punishment, you see.”
I turned to Mjöllmile for some kind of explanation.
“Now, now, Gob’emon. Go on, lift your head up. Have some tea to calm you down.”
He sat Gob’emon on a seat and offered him tea from a servant. Once we were all in place, he turned to me and went into the story.
It turned out that Mjöllmile had, indeed, been attacked several times since our meeting. Mjöllmile, being no fool, ordered Bydd and the rest of his security detail to redouble their efforts, but there were a few close scrapes that were foiled thanks to the assistance of an anonymous bystander—Gob’emon, in other words. There were considerably more assaults than I had planned for, and I guess that’s how he got spotted. Mjöllmile apparently figured he must’ve been with me and kept pretending not to notice out of politeness.
And then it happened. Viscount Cazac, whether he lost his temper or whatever, decided to get serious.
“So I left my business to a trusted associate and left for this country. Once I reached the highway, I assumed I was safe and nobody would try to touch me. But…”
The highway was full of adventurers, traveling merchants, and patrolmen. I had teams clear the roads daily to keep them free of snow, so the winter hadn’t slowed the flow of people much. An attack in such a well-traversed area was unthinkable, and even if it happened, our security team would be right on the scene. Someone like Mjöllmile, who traveled the highways frequently, was fully aware of that.
But as if to prove his confidence was misplaced, his party came under attack at a village near the far end of the highway.
“A village? You mean the one where Bydd tried to rip— Um, where Bydd and I first met?”
“Yes! The very same, Sir Rimuru!”
Bydd might have been Mjöllmile’s bodyguard now, but when I first met him, he was a pretty low-end swindler. It wasn’t worth bringing up past drama, though, so I glossed over it. He had shown up to help defend Gob’emon, and now they were both behind Mjöllmile as he explained matters.
As Bydd then explained, they were accosted by a wagon painted black, out of which popped monsters—several of them, all ranked B. As an ex–C fighter, Bydd and his team couldn’t do much, and they were all about to say their prayers but still did their best to evacuate the villagers and buy some time. Then Gob’emon showed up.
“Yeah, that Gob’emon guy saved all our lives, man!”
“That he did,” Mjöllmile added. “Not just me, but everyone who was there owes him a word of thanks.”
“But I still failed…”
Gob’emon didn’t seem interested in the compliment. He wasn’t the sort to lose out to this monster band, and apparently he had dispatched them in short order. He then attempted to capture the criminal leading them, only to go eye-to-eye with a basilisk, a B-plus threat. It spewed petrifying gas at Gob’emon’s right arm, and he hurriedly amputated it himself before it spread any further. That bought the black wagon enough time to speed off.
“Failed? Meaning you didn’t catch the guy behind it?”
“Yes, but I let Mjöllmile notice me…”
That’s what he’s talking about?!
“I don’t really care about that. Your bodyguard duty was the more important thing. Plus, like, fix that thing, dude!”
I extracted a potion from my Stomach and attempted to hand it to Gob’emon. He bit his lip, refusing to take it.
“No, this injury is the result of my inexperience. I was unable to defeat the basilisk by myself and compelled to seek the aid of Bydd and his team. It was terrible of me, and while missing an arm presents its difficulties, it will grow back over time…”
What a stubborn goblin. Or proud, I guess you could say, but he was trying to do way too much by himself.
“Gob’emon, are you embarrassed that you needed Bydd’s help?”
“Well…my job was to guard Mjöllmile, but I exposed him to danger instead…”
“Hang on, Gob’emon. You’re misunderstanding this.”
“Am I?”
“Yeah. You’re trying to do everything alone. That’s the difference between you and Gobta.”
That summed it up, really—the ability to work with the people underneath them. Gobta never tried to do all the work himself. Even when fighting powerful monsters, he was always issuing commands to his team. For the easier jobs, he barely even lifted a finger—or maybe he was just deliberately being lazy, much of the time—but in terms of encouraging growth among his team, Benimaru called Gobta a better commander.
With Gob’emon, if a strong monster reared its ugly head, he’d leap right in front and try to fight it. I could understand his line of thinking—he was talented, so this would make things faster—but doing that accomplished nothing for the rest of his team. And what if Gob’emon fell? It’d leave his troop defenseless. I’d be deeply concerned about their chances of
surviving the encounter.
That was the reasoning behind Benimaru’s evaluation, and that’s why I wanted Gob’emon to learn how to rely on others. Mjöllmile was great at handling his people, and I thought using him as an example would help Gob’emon grow a little.
“…That’s exactly why you need to learn how to trust in your friends more. I’m not saying to throw them recklessly into danger. I’m saying that you need to conserve a little bit of your strength and give them a hand if things get hairy.”
“I—I…”
“Everybody knows how strong you are. But that’s not enough to lead a unit.”
“......”
Gob’emon hung his head, and I took the opportunity to throw the healing potion at him.
“Ah?!”
The fluid spilled all over his right arm, which visibly regenerated before us.
“Gob’emon, I want you to stay with Mjöllmile for a while. You can train Bydd and his men if you like, or just chill out and relax for a bit. I doubt Mollie needs anyone to guard him in town, so take a moment to reevaluate yourself a little, all right?”
“L-Lord Rimuru…”
“Because, I mean, none of us can really do anything by ourselves, okay? I think you learned that with your mistake there. Just think about what you should do next time, and you’ll find the answer, okay?”
I smiled at him, took the katana off my belt, and presented it to him. He froze, eyes wide open in surprise.
“Take it.”
“B-but… My mission…”
“Look, you got Mollie here in one piece, right? I’ll be expecting even bigger things from you now. Treat this sword as a mirror into your heart, and use it every night to try looking into yourself.”
If Gob’emon could get over his arrogance and pride, we’d be able to rely on him more than ever.