While my attempts at making outdoor play equipment had yielded lackluster results, things were going quite well indoors.
First was the kendama.
Even though it was a solitary toy, it was well-received because it could be played without needing much space to move around.
I tried making a prototype for a yo-yo, but balancing the two halves was too difficult, so I eventually gave up.
I also tried making a top that you spin by winding a string around it, but since I couldn't spin it properly myself, I couldn't teach the others. In my previous world, everyone on TV made it look so easy.
...
Wait, they were spinning them just fine even without my help. They seemed happy, so I supposed that was for the best.
If I only made toys for the beastman boys, I would feel bad for the others, so I tried to think of something for the girls. However, nothing came to mind.
Since they were girls... maybe otedama beanbags?
I had Zabuton sew some small pouches and filled them with soybeans. Apparently, they are traditionally made with adzuki beans, but... I should try growing some adzuki beans next. Then I could make sweets like zenzai.
Returning to the topic at hand, I tied the small pouches shut, and the otedama were complete. For now, I made about ten of them.
"What do you do with those?" someone asked.
I tried to demonstrate by juggling three of them. It didn't work, so I tried with two. I only managed about three rotations, but the concept seemed to get across.
The beastman women, the High Ogres, and the High Elves all showed immediate interest. They mastered it in the blink of an eye and were soon juggling five bags at once. They even started crossing paths with each other and adding complex variations.
Yeah, it looked like there was nothing left for me to teach. I decided to simply devote myself to increasing production. Soon, villagers could be seen playing otedama as a casual hand-game after meals.
As a board game alternative to chess, I tried making a shogi set. It was accepted as a variation of chess, but it wasn't quite as popular as when I first introduced the former. Kuro and the others could play chess, but the flat shogi pieces were difficult for them to manipulate.
In that case, I tried Go. I remembered the rules from back when a certain Go manga was popular in my previous world. A 19x19 board would probably be too daunting to start with, so I introduced a 9x9 board to see how they liked it.
It was received quite well. Good, good. I went ahead and prepared 13x13 and 19x19 boards for the future.
Returning to the task of making toys for the beastman boys, the next idea was... sugoroku? It could also serve as practice for reading characters, so it seemed like a solid choice. I prepared a large board and drew the spaces on it, keeping it simple for the first version. Then I prepared some dice and gave it a try.
It was a hit—specifically, the dice were.
Hmm. I wondered if I should have just introduced a simpler dice game like chinchirorin instead of overthinking it. However, that was gambling. Since the village currently lacked a system of private property, gambling among the residents didn't really work.
Whenever elements of gambling or competition were involved, I acted as the bookmaker, mainly because I was the only one who could provide prizes. I didn't mind keeping it this way for now, but I wondered if they would eventually need to learn how to use currency. I might have to circulate money in the village at some point, but that was a conversation for the future.
I managed to redirect the beastman boys' interest from the dice to the sugoroku board and played with them for a while.
As a side note, I discovered that objects similar to dice did exist in this world. However, they weren't regular cubes; they were slightly irregular polyhedrons. Instead of numbers, they were marked with symbols and were primarily used for fortune-telling or magic. Apparently, they weren't something ordinary people ever saw.
I tried various things, but making play equipment was harder than it looked. I learned that making something elaborate wasn't necessarily better. Surprisingly, the biggest hit with the beastman boys turned out to be simple building blocks.
Ah, right. They were still just children, after all.
"Village Head. There are many similar objects here; are these also building blocks?"
"No, those are mahjong tiles."
I had attempted to make playing cards, but since paper was precious, I had to abandon the idea of cardstock. I tried making them out of wooden slips instead, but the wood grain on the back made it obvious what they were even when face down. I tried covering the back with clay, but the clay separated from the wood as it dried, resulting in a failure. I even tried making them entirely out of clay, but it was impossible to make them thin enough to be playable.
I gave up on cards completely. Since the size possible with clay was about that of mahjong tiles, I decided to make those instead. Because I used the Universal Farming Tool to shape them, the sizes were uniform, the firing was even, and they were quite sturdy.
After completing a set, I realized that I was the only one who understood the rules and scoring, so they ended up as mere decorations.
"Are the rules that difficult?"
"It's not so much that they're difficult, but there's a lot to memorize."
For the time being, I gathered some people who looked bored and tried playing.
...Wait?
That's strange. Everyone is a beginner compared to me, right? They haven't even fully memorized the point calculations yet. And yet, their ability to read the board and deduce my hand from my discards felt a little too accurate for beginners...
I enjoyed the mahjong game. I shall not speak of the results.
Eventually, the thirty of Kuro's offspring and Zabuton's children returned from their dungeon conquest. They brought five monsters back with them.
The monsters were lamias, possessing human upper bodies and the lower bodies of snakes. They were all female, and from what I could see, they were intellectual beauties—the type of women who would look great with long hair and glasses.
I wondered if something could be done about them leaving their chests bare. It was hard to know where to look. Their long hair would tease the eye by covering and uncovering them, which was... quite erotic.
Right, sorry. The glares I was getting from the other villagers were painful, so I did my best to avert my eyes. It was impossible. I asked Zabuton and her children to craft some tube-top garments to cover them up. It was a bit of a shame, but it couldn't be helped.
"Are you the master of these wolves?"
"I am."
When I replied, the representative of the lamias bowed her head, and the others followed suit.
"We surrender to these wolves. We ask only for our lives."
I had no intention of taking their lives, but... Lamias. The lamias I knew from stories were monsters that lured humans with their upper bodies only to crush them with their coils.
"Are you the kind of monsters that prey on humans?"
"W-we don't eat humans!"
"We are not monsters. We are a type of demi-human," the representative and the one behind her answered in a panic.
I looked at Frau for confirmation.
"The lamia race are indeed demi-humans, though their appearance is unusual. They are not monsters. Furthermore, I have never heard of them having a custom of eating humans."
I had been told before that monsters couldn't speak. That made sense.
"I said something rude. My apologies," I said, offering a sincere apology. I felt bad for assuming they preyed on humans. I shouldn't jump to conclusions based on old stories. I reflected on my bias.
"Then, back to the topic... you said you surrendered. Did you fight with Kuro's group?"
"They were the ones who attacked us."
"?"
When I asked for the details, it turned out the lamias had been living in the depths of the dungeon. In fact, they were the rulers of that place. Kuro's offspring had launched an offensive, and while the lamias had resisted for a long time, they eventually reached their limit and surrendered.
"Ugh, they're so fast and tough. They dodge magic easily, and they used spiders to scale the walls we thought were inaccessible. Just what are those creatures?"
I felt quite sorry for them. However, Kuro's offspring were wagging their tails, waiting for praise for bringing home such "prey." Zabuton's children were likely feeling the same.
I took a moment to praise the thirty wolves and the spiders. "Good boys, good boys! You all did a great job."
After praising them, I consulted with the lamias about their future.
"Is the dungeon still intact? Can you return there and live as you did before?"
"Eh? Yes, it's fine. Our numbers have decreased, but toward the end, they were mostly just surrounding us and waiting for us to surrender."
As I listened to their story, I realized that for the lamias, the loss of their "monsters" felt less like losing fellow villagers and more like losing livestock. I personally think I'd be furious if my chickens, cows, goats, or horses were killed, but cultures differ.
"Do you have any hostile intentions toward this village?"
"None. We surrender completely."
Well, they were currently looking at more than double the number of wolves that had originally conquered them. Even if they had hostile intentions, their spirits would probably have broken right then and there.
"I understand. In that case, you may return home."
"Eh?"
"I'm saying you're free to go back."
"Is that truly all right?"
"Yeah. Unless you'd rather stay here?"
"N-no, the cave is a much more comfortable environment for us."
"Then you may return."
To ensure I didn't incur any unnecessary resentment for hauling them all the way here, I gave them some crops as a parting gift. I offered them as much as they could carry in barrels, but they managed to haul about three times more than I expected by using their serpentine lower bodies.
I wondered if they could really move like that. It seemed there was no problem.
"Thank you very much."
I believe I managed to establish a friendly relationship with the lamias. From then on, they would occasionally bring items gathered from the dungeon to exchange for our crops.