Chương 9: Chapter Nine
The market they'd chosen to debut the lemonade was the closest one to the school, a market where thread, cloth, and small trinket vendors attracted more women and kids than adult males. It'd been deemed the safest choice since it had a peacekeeper station nearby. As a bonus, many highborn visited the area, meaning they could safely charge a higher price per cup.
There was a commotion when I approached. Of course there was. It wasn't coming from the kids' lemonade stand, though. It was coming from a different stall where Coach Townsend was under verbal attack by a small mob of angry housewives.
His eyes wildly searched for help and our gazes met. "Al!" he called out, the plea in his voice undeniable.
I huffed, but went over to see what the problem was. From the looks of it, he'd started his toy business with two available items—knitted hackysacks and sidewalk chalk in four colors. They were good choices in my opinion. Very versatile.
The housewives didn't agree. Two were accusing the Coach of trying to poison their children. They'd mistaken the chalk as snacks. One was angry the chalk had stained her dress, two more were angry the chalk had stained their children's clothes, and four other women wanted a refund because their kids weren't playing with the hackysacks they'd bought.
"Ma'am," I said softly, speaking to no one in particular. The women all fell silent, my voice catching their attention over all the hubbub. "Did you confirm how the chalk was meant to be used when you bought it?"
"Well, no," one of the women muttered.
"Chalk is a child's version of paint," I continued. I remained calm, making them calm down in turn. "It's a parent's job to make sure their kids don't eat paint. Don't you agree?"
Several women flushed in embarrassment. I turned to the Coach and held out my hands. He gave me a red and a white stick of chalk. Taking several steps away, I crouched down and drew a simple daisy on the stone path using the two colors.
The kids hiding behind the womens' skirts peeked out in interest.
"Green," I called out, holding up my hand. Coach tossed me the color and I drew a leaf. One of the kids grinned, showing me a mouthful of teeth dyed red. I drew another flower, this time a green one with red leaves.
A toddler walked over and scribbled on the ground next to my drawing with white chalk. In less than ten seconds, all the younger kids were gathered around, drawing all over the place. Not all of the kids were lured in, though, so I took several steps back and drew a hopscotch board on the stone paving.
No one said a word as I tossed the piece of chalk into one of the squares and hopped my way across to it. A few of the kids giggled when I stopped on one foot, pretending to balance precariously as I reached down and picked the chalk up again. After I reclaimed it, I finished hopping across and several of the kids clapped at my success.
As I returned to the Coach's stall, kids flooded in to try hopscotch for themselves.
Trading the chalk for three hacky sacks, I started juggling. Everyone stared, even the Coach.
"Don't give me that look," I told him as I made my arcs bigger, attracting more stares. "I have a ton of younger cousins. This kind of thing makes me a favorite during the holidays."
Looking at the mothers, I said, "Kids can't do this without practice, but there is a game they can play right off the bat. Coach, you up for a game?"
The Coach stepped away from the stall. I caught hold of two of the tiny knit bags and let the last one fall so it landed on the side of my foot. I danced around, showing off the different ways it could be caught and bounced on various body parts, then popped it in the air and knocked it over to the Coach with my elbow.
He turned out to be surprisingly nimble, catching it and batting it back and forth between his feet. He even knocked it up and caught it on his forehead, making several of the kids gasp in surprise.
"The game is to not let it fall," I explained. "You can use any part of your body except your hands to catch it and pass it. This is called hacky sack and it can have as many players as you want. You can even add multiple sacks to make it more difficult. But if you let it fall or you grab it with your hands, you lose."
I almost missed it when the Coach tossed it back at me. I had to lunge to stop it with my knee, then hop to catch it on my toe and send it back. Coach received it easily, then put an end to the game by bouncing it up into his hand.
"I'm sorry about the confusion, ladies," Coach said, finally regaining the confidence to speak up. "These things are common where we're from, so I didn't think to explain. Chalk also has another use. You can use the white one to mark patterns on fabric. It washes out with only a little water, so—"
"I'll take three sets," one woman exclaimed.
"Two!"
"Six for me!"
The Coach's eyes widened as the new attack started. I gave him an apologetic wave and slipped away before I could be made to help out again.
Jason's stall was doing decent business, but it wasn't the blow-out they'd probably hoped for. When I got close, I could see they were down only a quarter of a barrel. Most of the problem was the lack of take-out cups. Adventurers carried their own mugs with them. Housewives and children didn't, meaning those who bought some lemonade were forced to drink it at the stand, making it harder for other people to move in and buy some.
It'd have been easy for me to suggest they try selling the lemonade in bottles or jars, but I wanted to see what solution they came up with by themselves. When my gaze met Gregory's, I could tell from the knowing gleam in his eyes he'd made the same choice to remain silent. I had a feeling the next day would be interesting as the kids built on the experience they gathered today.
I dropped off the basket of food with Gregory, trusting him to give it to the kids at noon, and left again. They didn't need me hovering over them and I had other things to do—like taking lunch to Rafe.
There was already a line of waiting people outside the Guild, even though it wasn't noon yet, and there was another line of people waiting at the soup stall in the alley. I waved to the chef in charge of ladling out servings and he waved back, his face lighting up when he recognized me. Unlike the previous night, none of the general staff appeared frantic or overwhelmed. Everything was under complete control.
A lot of men were hard at work at the dismantling workshop. It appeared there were the same number as the previous day, except Rafe hadn't allowed everyone to leave when I didn't show up. It was amusing to see the number of guys scurrying around, their nice sets of clothes dirty and disheveled as they responded to Rafe's—the Chief's—barked orders. They were going to have to Cleanse their clothes two or three times after this.
I probably should have been sympathetic, but I'd been the one most troubled by all the would-be suitors. Being treated as special was fun in small doses. Being treated as a trophy wasn't fun at all.
I grinned, seeing Rafe's face light up when he noticed me approaching, although he quickly hid his happiness under his usual stern scowl. Without missing a step, I pulled his lunch basket out of my Item Box. His eyes sparkled in response and the work throughout the bays slowed.
"I thought you were taking off today," he commented when I stopped in front of him.
"Your mom asked me to bring you lunch," I replied, my voice nearly echoing in the sudden silence. "I made it, though, so I hope you like it."
"Ha! As if I wouldn't. What's in there? It smells good." He accepted the basket and hugged it against his chest as if he was afraid someone would try to steal it. I kind of wished someone would try just so I could see his reaction.
"Fried chicken made with my Aunt Rita's recipe, corn on the cob, french fries, and fresh baked rolls. There's strawberry jam cookies as a sweet for dessert. There's also a jar of lemonade Jason and the kids made."
"Is the strawberry jam stuff the same as what you made this morning?"
"Chief," I admonished with a blush. "If you say it like that, people are going to misunderstand."
"Let them," he said bluntly. My blush deepened. "That reminds me, you never said how."
"How?" I repeated.
"How people in your homeland agree to do that dating thing."
"It's not hard. One person asks and the other says yes or no."
"That's all?"
"That's all."
"Date me," he said, predictably. I smiled at him, feeling completely suckered by his straight-forward nature. No other man I knew would have such audacity.
"Okay."
"Okay?" He hadn't been expecting that.
"Okay," I confirmed.
"Just me."
"Just you."
"Good. Can I kiss you now?"
I huffed a laugh. My new beau could certainly be single-minded. "You're at work, so no."
"Later?" he asked, pouting at my refusal.
"We'll see. Eat your lunch, Chief. I'm overdue for a meeting with Frank."
As I waved goodbye like a dork and hurried toward the depository, I heard several workers voicing complaints along the lines of, "Why didn't anyone tell me the Chief was interested?" From the sound of it, I wouldn't have to worry about suitors when I went into work in the future. Part of me was glad while the other part felt hesitant. I was effectively dating my boss now. I should have checked to see if there were rules against that.
It was the first thing I asked when I burst into Frank's office. Thank goodness, no one else had been in there, because I couldn't hold it in. He stared at me for a long minute, giving me a chance to explain the situation in full, then he started chuckling.
"There's no problem," he promised, amused by everything I told him. "So, you and the Chief. I admit, I saw that coming, but I didn't think he'd move so fast. I even warned him to wait."
"It took me by surprise, too," I said as I dropped into the chair in front of his desk. "I wasn't expecting the woman I saved to be his mother. I wasn't intending to date anyone right away, but I guess you could say I was charmed by him. He's strong and gruff, but he can be soft-spoken at times and—"
"I don't need the details," Frank interrupted dryly. "I know you're excited about your new romance, but I really need you to focus. We have a lot to cover today."
Frank could be a total buzzkill. "Fine," I grumbled. "Where do we start?"
We started with him setting a tray of stacked coins between us on the desk. I knew right away it was a lot of money. Half the coins were unfamiliar denominations and the other half were gold and silver.
"Please confirm the payment," Frank said.
"Payment?" I repeated. "Payment for what?"
Frank pointed at the the different stacks as he explained, "One percent of the sales for the chicken and dumplings, one percent for the cheese fondue, one percent for the ketchup, one percent for each of the potato dishes, and one percent for the mayonnaise and tuna salad. This is eighty percent of the sales of the recipe cards sold yesterday. The other ten percent was split between the Guild and the professional scribes we hired to write them out. Finally, we have one percent royalties already accumulated from the four inns who've agreed to franchise the Guild's menu. It total, it should be one small orichalcum, six large mithril, a small mithril, four large platinum, nineteen large gold, a small gold, eight large silver and one small silver."
Once the unfamiliar coins were identified, I was able to mentally convert them to dollar amounts and add them up. The result? More than $200,000. I lost track after that.
"That's insane," I said. "All this in one night?"
"I admit your new menu items exceeded my expectations by a lot, but I knew they'd be successful."
"I didn't even do anything," I replied. "The Guild provided the ingredients and the Chefs in the kitchen cooked everything. And I don't even remember our contract including anything about one percent royalties. I thought I was only getting single commissions for providing new recipes and five percent royalties off any sauces we resell as bottled goods."
"That was the Guildmaster's decision. He added as an addendum to your contract late last night. Since it falls under the purview of a wage increase, your direct approval wasn't needed. Consider it a bonus for a job well done. However, between you and me, I believe the Guildmaster was afraid you'd be lured away if he didn't provide at least this much."
From the gleam in Frank's eyes, I thought he might have had something to do with the Guildmaster thinking that way. Frank knew I didn't want the hassle and responsibility of running a restaurant myself. However, after the previous night's success, if he'd suggested it was a possibility anyway, the Guildmaster would have jumped at any possible way to keep me around.
"Take it," Frank urged, handing me a velvet moneybag I could use to collect the payment. "Don't be shy."
I bagged up the smaller coins, leaving the orichalcum coin and a large mithril on the tray. It really didn't seem right for me to take that much for myself.
"Can you split the mithril between everyone who worked last night?" I asked as I stowed the bag in my Item Box. "Don't tell them it was from me. Just say it was a bonus for their hard work."
"If that is what you wish. Our staff is well paid, but a windfall like this would certainly improve moral."
"Good. I don't want anyone to feel like my existence is piling on work and their contributions aren't important. As for the orichalcum, I'd like to have several magic tools crafted and I don't know how much they'll cost. Can you put that money toward having them made? One set for the Guild and one for me to keep for myself?"
"An orichalcum is enough for hundreds of magical tools to be purchased," Frank replied. "You'd be better off keeping the coin and paying the purchase price per order."
"Use half as my buy-in funds for the restaurants you want to build," I said. "If I'm going to accept a percentage of the profits in the future, I should provide this much at the minimum."
Frank accepted my will and put the money away. Our meeting progressed and it turned out to be not only one meeting, but several. Frank called in the Adventurer team he'd enlisted on my behalf and introduced them. We went over the various ingredients I decided I wanted to focus on gathering first. They were surprised when I asked for maple tree sap and they listened intently while I explained how trees could be tapped like kegs.
"Gathering is slow," I warned them. "It'd be best to tap the trees and leave the collection buckets, then go back later and get them. I know the dungeon is closing soon, so I wouldn't be surprised if you only get a small amount. I'll take it anyway. It'll give me a chance to do some experiments."
After the team left with my ingredient list, Frank called in a craftsman next. As my overseer, Frank had already guessed I'd want to have some specialized tools built and found someone to manage that aspect of my cooking, but I had to laugh when I saw the old craftsman was the same one Janet had met in the marketplace.
The craftsman just-so-happened to have the peppermill, cheese grater, and sifters I'd ordered. He'd brought them along to show he could get the job done, no matter how odd my requests seemed. I was excited at the sight of them and really wanted to go down to the kitchen to test them out, but Frank reminded me I was still banned from the Guild kitchen until everything had a chance to settle down.
The craftsmen listened intently as we discussed what I wanted to build next and Frank provided paper and quills so we could sketch ideas. Pretty soon, his desk was covered in drawings and needed to be organized in order of importance. I put the measuring cups on top, warning him the glassblower he enlisted would need to be prepared to make them in bulk.
"I want them in every household," I said. "I don't only want to improve cooking here at the Guild, but I want to improve what people are capable of doing at home. The first step is to standardize measurements used in recipes. Ratios are too difficult to understand. It's a lot easier to say you need a cup of flour and a spoonful of butter."
The next meeting was with four chefs Frank wanted to put in charge of my first restaurant. One was an experienced baker. One knew meat. The third had experience cooking in taverns. The last was a retired brewer hoping to take it easy by managing the service side of the restaurant.
We sat down together and I explained to them about pizza. They were eager to get started when I described a new kind of cheese, but they were also confused when I said customers could pick their own combination of toppings.
"That's what makes pizza special," I explained. "You could put every single ingredient on top and it'll still taste good. They also cook at a quick pace, so it's possible to make them individually. We'll just need to make sure you have enough sauce, dough, and cheese prepared ahead of time. Once those run out, the restaurant will need to close for the night. There's no way around it."
We also talked about the type of building everyone wanted to work from. Naturally, everyone had different ideas. The baker thought it should be a shop where the pizzas were wrapped up and sent home. The meat master wanted a tavern-style building. The tavern guy thought it was going to be a huge place on par with the Guildhall. The brewer wanted an upscale dining experience to attract nobles.
"Let's do all of that," I said, surprising them. "I've seen a few pavilion style taverns where the lower floor is opened up to the outside. Families with rambunctious kids and Adventurers in armor can eat there. The second floor balcony pavilion can be set up for high-end dining. We're not going to limit it to nobles, though. Anyone who comes in dressed up for a night out, such as courting couples, can eat up there even if they're commoners. We can also set up a take-out window on the side where people can line up to place orders for single slices, kind of like it's a market stall. Ordering from there will only have a limited menu, though. If they want something special, they'll need to come inside and order a whole pizza."
Everyone was satisfied with the building I described and Frank said he'd arrange to have one renovated for us as soon as possible. I made an appointment for a cooking lesson with the quartet once the pizzeria's kitchen was ready and they left with smiles on their faces.
The next meeting was with the scribes who'd spent most of the night writing out recipe cards. They understood the chaos the previous night couldn't have been avoided, but asked me to give them warning in the future so they could prepare the cards ahead of time. They presented me with illuminated versions of the recipes I'd already shared, the edges wreathed in gold lace patterns.
Among the scribes was the Duke's personal librarian, who explained the illuminated cards were stamped with the Duke's personal seal, marking it as proof of origination. It meant the Duke's Great Library had been searched and none of these particular recipes had been found, making me the sole patent owner. The Librarian also informed me the recipes for mayonnaise and gratin already existed, albeit in slightly different forms. On those cards, I received a different stamp to show I'd revived ancient patented recipes with no current patent holders. The cards were more like a medal of achievement than anything else.
She went on to inform me which of my recipes couldn't be patented at all due to their simplicity—something I'd already expected. She was relieved when I explained I hadn't wanted to patent any of them anyway. I was far happier if they were used freely by the public.
When it was my turn, I explained the measuring cups I was having made and got approval from the Librarian to have the measurements listed on the recipe cards. However, for any of the recipes to be patented, I still needed to have the ratios listed, as well.
I went to work, telling the scribes how to make mozzarella cheese, marinara sauce, and pizza. They were only rough outlines and I'd need to confirm the measurements before the scribes could write in that portion, but it was enough for them to get started on the rest. The Duke's Librarian also took a copy so she could start investigating my patent rights. I had a feeling I'd be seeing more illuminated cards in my near future.
All of them left with the air of people protecting state secrets, so I didn't fear they'd share the recipes before we could get the restaurant ready.
For the last meeting, we went over to the Guildmaster's office. Takahashi from the Earth Advent was already there, apparently waiting on us. They sat across from each other in the office's informal sitting area.
"What's this about?" I asked as sat next to Takahashi on the sofa. Frank sat across from me, next to the Guildmaster.
"It is nothing too complicated, my friend," Takahashi said, giving me a wide grin. "I have been given approval to open a consulate here, as you requested, and was merely exchanging information with the Guild head."
"Lord Takahashi informs me you're a Lord yourself, Chef Russo," the Guildmaster said. I heard the question, even if he hadn't phrased it as one. It was something like, 'you couldn't have warned me?'
"I didn't know I was one," I replied with a raised eyebrow. I wanted to call bullshit, but I figured Takahashi had a reason for lying.
"Ah, memory is such a frail thing," Takahashi said. "No matter. That was before you were reborn, so it has no bearing here and now as long as you're being treated well. I hear the Guildmaster has been very considerate of you. How are you settling in?"
"I'm doing good. Frank is setting up a pizza place using my recipes and I made a bunch of money last night, so I've ordered a bunch of cooking tools. A lot of my recipes are already stamped by the Duke and patented, too."
"I tried your chicken and dumplings last night. Very tasty." Takahashi smiled at me, encouraging me to continue.
"I've taken up residence at a small boarding house with my little brother and just this morning I've agreed to date Chief Dismantler Rafe Durham. He's a nice guy and easy to talk to."
The Guildmaster choked when I said that, but he waved me off when I raised my eyebrow at him.
"Jason is going to the school for crafters," I continued. "Today, he and some of the other kids have set up a lemonade stand in the small trinkets market. They want to earn money to build bicycles. I gave him my approval and taught them the recipe."
"What's this lemonade?" Frank asked.
"It's a drink. It's so easy to make, even children can do it. All it takes is juice squeeze from lemons with the pulp strained out, water, and sugar. The lemon juice makes it tart and the sugar balances it to make it sweet. Setting up lemonade stands is a traditional way for kids to learn about entrepreneurship, so I wouldn't dream of trying to patent it."
"Now I'm craving lemonade," Takahasi said with a laugh. "I will have to visit this stall of Jason's. Let me ask, has anyone spoken to you about the magic used in currency?"
My ignorance must have shown on my face, because he nodded gravely and explained, "Every coin in the kingdom is minted with a magic seal. Once a year, the king sends men out to locate and account for every coin to ensure each city has precisely the same amount available. This is important, because the magic seals on the coins are renewed during this process. Any coin not renewed will 'poof', disappear. That makes it so no one can horde coins in secret and the King can know exactly how many coins are lost or destroyed over the course of a year. Only missing coins are replaced with newly minted coins, which allows for a very steady economy.
However, because of the number of coins are limited, it's illegal to accumulate too many. I warn you of this because I have no doubt you will be successful as a chef. Exchanging coins for gems or goods of equal value is important, especially if you intend to travel during tax season. I do not wish to see you punished when the tax man comes around."
"What's the limit?" I asked.
"Twenty large orichalcum worth of coin," the Guildmaster answered. I mentally translated it to four million dollars—a reasonable amount, in my opinion. In this world, that much coin would support a modest household for their entire lives, their kid's lives, and the lives of their grandchildren.
That led to my next question. "How are taxes handled?"
Frank answered this time. "The worth of your possessions are assessed along with your coin once a year. Where you live in the city and how many people you employ also has an affect. An accountant could give you the specific rundown, but as long as you have less coin than the maximum allowed amount, the tax collectors will never collect more than a single large mithril in the name of the Grand Duke. If you have more, they will confiscate everything over twenty large Orichalcums and fine you two large Orichalcum, as well. There are a handful of noble houses who do this intentionally to ensure the Grand Duke has funds available for public works. Such is how they remain in favor politically."
"I guess that's a good way to make sure money keeps flowing," I commented. "I can't complain about the results, either. The market has been booming every day I've gone out so far."
"Exactly so," Takahashi said. "In this kingdom, currency is merely a medium for wealth to flow and should not be treated as wealth itself. Wealth is in what you use to purchase with currency."
It was an interesting way to look at it, although I didn't think hard luck Adventurers or poor commoners would agree.
"Speaking of wealth, have you considered what you'll do with your royalties?" the Guildmaster asked. Next to him, Frank winced. It told me I'd messed something up by doling out that orichalcum and mithril.
"I've already made arrangements with Frank for the bulk of the largess, but I don't know what I'll do in the future if money keeps rolling in. I already have more than I need."
Frank told them about the bonus I'd set aside for the Guild staff and about the measuring cups and other tools I'd ordered. Takahashi leaned back, shocked speechless when he heard the local population didn't have access to such common things. In many ways, I found it relieving that I wasn't the only one who thought it was strange.
"I had thought the blandness of the food in this city was a regional preference," he mumbled. His back straightened like he'd had an iron rod shoved down his spine and he stiffly asked, "Lord Russo, may I ask if there are any other instances where you have found the culture of this town lacking? I would like to hear your opinion, no matter how small or strange a thing you've noticed."
"There's no toys," I offered instantly. Holding out my hand to show the light dusting of chalk around my nails, I explained, "Just today, I had to teach kids how to use sidewalk chalk. A fellow I know from back home opened a stall selling it and he was nearly massacred by a bunch of housewives who didn't know he was selling kid's art supplies. They thought the chalk were snacks."
"What else?" he prompted.
"I haven't seen anything to do with farming or cultivation. There aren't even rose bushes anywhere, but it's possible that's only something the nobility can afford. Maybe? I've mostly kept to this quarter of the city, so I can't say what might or might not exist in other portions. Books might be one of those things limited to nobility, too, but Aron at the Sanctuary said books for pleasure reading don't actually exist. Oh, there is one thing I found slightly disturbing. I haven't seen any musicians anywhere. I thought the street would be full of them, especially in the market where coin is flowing, but I haven't seen a single busker since I arrived. Actually, now I think about it, there's none of the usual street entertainers, either. No one painting portraits, no mimes, and no dancers. Considering the stories I remember hearing about towns like Alisfar, I'd expected to see some. Is that the kind of weird you're looking for?"
"Yes, please go on. What about goods? Have you noticed any missing that should be there?"
"Herbs," I grunted. "I mean, they're there, but no one is hawking them as seasonings. Eating utensils, too. Everyone in town eats with their hands. Janet and I were only able to get our hands on some because we saw an Oracle marker pointing toward a vendor who had some stashed away. Let me think. Candy. They sell honey and cinnamon sticks in the market, but there's no candies. There's not even candied nuts, which were a staple at flea markets back home. I'm sorry. I'm sure there's more, but most of my focus has been on food."
"You've told me more than enough. The situation here is much worse than those in the capital have been led to believe. Lord Russo, you don't know, so I'll inform you Alisfar is a city centered on a peninsula at the very Western edge of the kingdom. The Great Sea is only a day's journey away on horseback and this town was once a major trade hub between the port city of Sarta and the Royal Capital. As more and more people turned to the dungeons for their needs, Sarta was abandoned and this part of the kingdom declined. While trade continues to flow between cities closer to the Royal Seat, S-Rank adventurers would need to be hired to protect caravans this far off the normal trade routes. Most merchants simply can't afford that kind of investment when there's no certainty they'd make profit.
If the King knew so many things, even something as small as music and toys, had become forgotten in the furthest reaches of his kingdom, he would have intervened long ago. You might not understand, but the situation is far more dire than any of you realize. The standard of living should not be this poor. On the surface, Alisfar seems prosperous and the populous appears content, but that does not make it right. I believe I understand now why the Great Goddess sent you here, Albert Russo. It was to rectify a lapse in the King's diligence."
Both Frank and the Guildmaster squawked in surprise upon hearing I was Sent here by Persephone.
"Your words," the Guildmaster barked, making me wince. "Explain them. Now!"
Takahashi ignored then, turning to bow his head at me. He held it lowered as he said, "I apologize, Lord Russo, but they must understand the truth of what has happened. Will you put your trust in me? I would not speak of it if I did not think the matter was truly necessary."
"I don't really understand what's going on and you have more experience here than me. If you really think we should tell them and it won't put me or my little brother in jeopardy, it's fine. I just don't want to find myself dragged off to an asylum or put through a religious inquisition."
"You won't," he swore. He sat up stiffly again and turned to the men sitting opposite of us. "I will report this directly to the Grand Duke after we're done here. I'll ask you not speak a word of what I'm about to tell you outside this room."
The Guildmaster and Frank traded startled looks, but gave their consent to Takahashi's terms. "As long as you understand we'll have to report whatever you say to the Grand Duke ourselves, then proceed," the Guildmaster said.
"I believe the explanation would be simpler with a visual aid. Will one of you fetch a status reader, please? We will update Lord Russo's Guild card."
Frank got up and went across the room to grab a small orb-box combo off a shelf. As he sat down, placing the box on the table between us, he commented, "Al just got his card made yesterday. Do you really think it needs to be updated so soon?"
"You will see. Lord Russo, please present your Guild card, then put your hand on the orb." I retrieved my Guild tag—it was metal, so I couldn't think of it as a 'card'—out of my Item Box and handed it over to Frank. He slipped it into the slot on the side of the box, then gestured for me to put my hand on the orb.
My status appeared.
Name: Lord Albert Russo
Age: 23
Race: High Human
Affiliation: Earth, Earth Advent, Alisfar Adventurer's Guild
Job: Chef, Saucier, Baker, Brewer, Alchemist, Butcher
Level: 26
Vitality: 245 (+125)
Strength: 111 (+35)
Dexterity: 121 (+25)
Intelligence: 109 (+25)
Wisdom: 123 (+25)
Constitution: 116 (+35)
Skills: Analyze, Auto-Translate, World Map, Lifestyle Magic, Novice Knife Skills, Lesser Fire Magic, Lesser Ice Magic, Novice Farming
Blessings: Item Box (Extra Large), Oracle (Minor), Accelerated Learning (x3), Patron: Persephone, Greater Protection (all), Greater Immunity (all), Boost All (+25), Boost Vitality (+100)
Titles: Sanctuary Reborn, Older Brother, (social) Prince, (social) Miracle Chef, Chosen by Persephone
The status reader spat out my card and it'd changed, too. Instead of Chef Albert, it said Lord Albert. My vitality grade had also been raised to 'B'.
"This is impossible!" Frank exclaimed. "It's only been one day. And what's with those Blessings? Al, when did Persephone become your Patron?"
Takahashi threw his arm out in front of me to stop me from answering. "What I'm about to say will be difficult to believe, but it is nothing less than the absolute truth. I swear it on my name, my soul, and my everlasting bond with Astraea. To put it simply, Albert Russo and those with him are not native to this planet. They were born on another world and brought here by Persephone for the purpose of cultural appropriation. The speed in which he is leveling up is due to Her divine support and should be taken as proof of my words."
The pair's eyes grew wide and they stared at me in disbelief. "It's true," I said. "I'm from a country called the United States of America on a planet called Earth. We don't have magic or dungeons or Beastkin. Everyone there is human. We don't have magic, either. Furthermore, my entire world has been mapped and cataloged, so I know Alisfar isn't part of some unexplored region."
"I originated from the same world, albeit a different kingdom," Takahashi said. "This event where the Gods transport people from other worlds is known as transmigration. It is a rare event known to his Majesty and the Grand Dukes, but it is a tightly guarded secret. It is a secret you will now be sworn to keep in order to protect the transmigrated men and women in Alisfar. Understand, they are messiahs sent to lead people out of darkness. If it was widely known such Goddess-touched people existed, the masses would gather and the lives of the transmigrated would be disrupted. They would find it difficult to fulfill the purpose for which the Gods brought them here."
Takahashi paused, taking a deep breath, and no one took the opportunity to speak. The Guildmaster and Frank were too stunned. Takahashi continued, "Normally, even in the darkest of times, only one or two messiahs would appear at a time. You currently have thirty-two wandering your city, not including myself. Do you understand the significance?"
Frank murmured, "But that would mean..."
"Yes," Takahashi confirmed. "The sheer number of messiahs who were Sent here means this will be reported as a Catastrophe-level event. On behalf of the King and the Royal House, you have my sincere apologies for not noticing your plight earlier and sending aid. The Grand Duke will be commended for managing Alisfar in a way where the populace have found peace with their circumstances, but he will also be punished for not reporting the details before the Goddess had to intervene on such a grand scale."
Once again, Takahashi bowed his head. Frank and the Guildmaster weren't alone in staring at him like he was crazy. "On behalf of the King?" I repeated. "Who exactly are you, Takahashi?"
Takahashi raised up once more and gave me a lazy smirk. "I am a representative of the Earth Advent, as I told you. That was not a lie. It is simply not all that I am. You can think of me as the equivalent of your American CIA. I travel around, making sure everything is as it should be, and report directly to the King on matters of national importance. Spoken clearly, my main job title is spy."
"Aren't you too young to be a member of the King's Intelligence?" Frank commented.
"But I'm two thousand years old?"
I choked and the Guildmaster let out a tired sigh. "High Human. You're a High Human. It's been so long since I met one, I'd almost forgotten. You guys are worse than elves. You age like dragons."
"W-Wait," I spluttered. "What does that mean? I'm a High Human, too, you know."
"It means you'll have a long time to enjoy living in Asphodel," Takahashi replied with a wide grin. "Try not to think about it too much. Your loved ones can potentially receive the 'High' modifier on their status if the Gods approve of them. That includes any person you marry. As a bonus effect, it means you will never be reborn again, no matter how many times you die in a dungeon, and you will reincarnate at the nearest Sanctuary even if you die in the outside world."
"Am I the only one who feels like they need a nap?" Frank asked. "Al, is everything he's saying about you being from another world true? Why didn't you tell me?"
I grimaced. "I didn't think anyone would believe me, then I was scared of what would happen if they did. It seemed easier to go along with the standard rebirth amnesia story to explain the gap in my knowledge. Honestly, what would you have done in my place? I've only known you two days, Frank. No matter how much I like you, you might have sent for Healers or Priests if I started babbling about alien worlds."
"I also cautioned him to say nothing," Takahashi added. "On the whole, it's safer for the transmigrated to remain silent about their origins. The only reason I'm informing you is because I will need your support in helping to integrate so many souls to this world. My cover story is I'm here to open a new branch of the Earth Advent in Alisfar, but the truth is I was assigned by the King to monitor the situation and render aid if any of the transmigrated run into trouble. For the time being, I have field command, meaning I can make snap decisions and have them backed by the full force of the crown. I am not infallible, though. I nearly used my authority to move everyone to New Tokyo where I believed they would acclimate easier. It was short-sighted of me. I am very grateful Lord Russo convinced everyone to stay here where the Goddess placed them, forcing me to abandon those plans."
Again, the eyes turned in my direction. I shrugged. "It wasn't hard. On Earth, I was a truck driver—what you might think of as a carter."
"Even though you can cook so well?" Frank's eyes widened in disbelief. I was getting used to seeing him with that expression.
"Becoming a chef of a successful restaurant isn't easy on Earth. There's actually schools formed around cooking and only cooking. My family couldn't afford something like that, though. I suppose I could have gotten a job as a line cook—that doesn't require schooling—but I'd have spent all day cooking other people's recipes. I'm not cut out for that kind of thing, so cooking was only a hobby I shared with my family."
"And this convinced the other... what did you call them... migrant people to stay here in Alisfar?" the Guildmaster asked.
I laughed. "If someone like me, a man with no formal training or professional experience, can become a famous chef overnight with something as common as chicken and dumplings, what do you think the rest of them can do? Especially someone like Janet, who actually was a formally trained professional on Earth?"
Frank's gaze snapped to Takahashi. "Is there any way we can get a list of the transmigrated and their job titles? With thirty-two people like Al wandering around—"
"No," Takahashi interrupted. "I can already see where you're going with this, but it's not your job to manage them. It is mine. You will only be informed of those who contract with your Guild through their own cognizance, such as Lord Russo and Lady Grant. Until such time, they will move freely through Alisfar and build up their lives with their own power. I'm sure the identity of many will become clear in time, but you are to do nothing to interfere with them. This is Royal Decree."
"That's fine," the Guildmaster cut in. "We don't realistically have the reach to support more than Al and Janet, unless some want to be Adventurers. As it is, we're already working overtime to fend off the members of the Merchant's Guild who want a piece of them. And if your crafting orders are as revolutionary as they seem, Al, I'll probably have the Crafting Guild banging on my door before the end of the day, too."
"I'll be meeting with the heads of both Guilds today, as well as the school where young Jason is attending," Takahashi said. "If anyone without Guildmaster approval approaches you about one of the transmigrated, please refer them back to their own Guilds and they'll be made aware of how far they overstepped."
"That'll be a load off my mind," Frank commented. "Knowing about all this, I'm even more horrified of Lord Fromiere's actions yesterday."
"Oh?" Takahashi prompted, his voice growing sharp. "Do tell."
The meeting devolved into a cold, unpleasant gossip session where I could see a list of potential targets being built. I wanted no part of it. I escaped by claiming I needed to head home to Jason.
Before I left, Frank asked, "Do you intend to tell the Chief the truth about your origins?"
I didn't hesitate. "Not yet. I like him, but I've had plenty of relationships turn sour after the honeymoon phase was over. I'll tell him when I can be sure our relationship will be a lasting one."
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