My name is Marlon. As the eldest son of the current chairman, I was the designated successor of the Goroun Company. I considered my life to be quite successful; I was blessed with children and my career was sailing along smoothly. My only real grievance was that I was perhaps a bit too busy.
Over the last few years, the Goroun Company had more than doubled in size. Honestly, I wondered if Father wasn't overdoing it. He had mentioned retiring a while back, yet here he was, working harder than ever. On my last trip to the Royal Capital, I had even been granted an audience with the Demon King himself. It was an incredible, imposing experience. I knew Father had met His Majesty many times, which only solidified my respect for him—but retirement was still out of the question. I’d even threatened him, saying that if he quit without my permission, I wouldn't let him see his grandchildren.
The secret behind the Goroun Company’s meteoric rise over the past few years was its connection to the Village of the Great Tree. At first, I suspected the name was some kind of trade cipher. I assumed it referred to a partner we couldn't acknowledge publicly due to sensitive political ties within the Demon Kingdom. After all, they were delivering crops the likes of which I had never seen before.
However, Father stubbornly insisted the village was real. He claimed it was located right in the heart of the Forest of Death. He told me it was a place where the Vampire Princess, the Annihilation Angel, the Genocide Angel, High Elves, High Ogres, Lizardmen, Elder Dwarves, and Dragons all lived together. Furthermore, he claimed the woods were crawling with Demon Spiders and Inferno Wolves.
It sounded like a bedtime story. I figured he was just trying to intimidate our competitors, and I told him a slightly more grounded lie would have been more effective. I didn't mind him keeping secrets, as I assumed he had his reasons. I told him I’d focus on the company business while he handled the "fairy tale" village.
The moment I made that smug declaration, I was tied up and hauled off to the Gate Guardian Dragon's Nest.
I apologized profusely for doubting him after that. I never imagined the Gate Guardian Dragon would actually serve me tea. It was a singular, terrifying experience. The tea was delicious, and—surprise, surprise—it was produced in the Village of the Great Tree. After that, I operated under the absolute assumption that the village existed. I told Father that while I accepted the village's existence, he had to spare me from any more trips to the dragon's nest. Having to change my trousers at my age was a blow to my dignity. I also made him promise to keep that particular incident a secret from my wife and children.
One day, while I was working diligently, Father summoned me. He said it was an emergency. It was a rare sight; Father, who usually preached the importance of staying calm, was in a visible panic.
"The Village Head of the Village of the Great Tree is here in the city," he told me.
I initially thought it was just another of Father’s eccentric problems and told him to handle it himself. He promptly locked me in an armlock. I quickly retracted my statement and agreed to help just to get him to let go. Not wanting to be the only one suffering, I dragged my cousins, Tito and Randy, into the mess. They could curse their luck for being in Shashato City that day. I also called for Milford. He was a former Rank 6 adventurer, and while I didn't think we'd need that kind of muscle, I wanted him there just in case.
We began our search for the man known as the Village Head. Since we didn't know his face, Father gave us a landmark: a beastman warrior named Galf, known as the War God and a tournament winner. Apparently, Galf was acting as the Village Head’s bodyguard. He was dressed as an adventurer to hide his identity after a commotion at the East Gate, but Father told us to look for his bright red cloak.
Father’s urgency was unsettling. He said the Village Head wasn't the one in danger—the city was. He compared it to the Royal Princess being lost in the streets. If anything happened to her, the Demon King’s wrath would be catastrophic. That was the level of risk we were dealing with.
We managed to find them safely. The Village Head seemed like a kind, gentle man who was quite close with Father. To be honest, he looked like a perfectly ordinary person. I found myself doubting him for a second, but then I saw Galf. The War God was standing beside him, acting completely submissive. That alone proved the Village Head was anything but ordinary.
My assessment was proven right almost immediately. Upon arriving at Big Roof Shashato, the Village Head took control of the chaos there with terrifying efficiency. He barked out orders and had the curry shop back in operation in the blink of an eye. I started to wonder if he was really just a "village head." He moved like a veteran merchant. Tito, Randy, and Milford were following his leads as if they were his lifelong subordinates.
His calculation speed was inhuman, and his management skills were flawless. And then there were the reinforcements. High Ogres appeared out of nowhere to help. High Elves—the infamous Man-eaters—were suddenly doing carpentry work. He had different types of Elves building things and was ordering the War God around like an errand boy. He kept Father by his side to fill in any gaps in his local knowledge. It was impressive; he knew his limitations and how to delegate to the right people.
I originally thought giving away free food to settle the crowd was a desperate move, but I was wrong. It was chum. He used the free curry to attract a massive crowd, and then used that crowd as leverage to persuade the local stall owners to move inside. He had me step in for the negotiations, representing the Goroun Company.
He had Tito and the others lay down large cloths to mark out the floor plan. Just by laying those cloths on the empty ground, everyone could visualize the stalls. In an instant, a marketplace was born inside the building. The man’s ingenuity was staggering.
The Goroun Company gained more than just political capital from this incident. We gained knowledge. He essentially gave us a masterclass in business. By clustering shops together into a food court, you create a destination. I used to think having too many of the same business in one spot would kill sales, but it was the opposite. It was like a festival; the concentration of similar stalls actually drew more people in. He had taken the excitement of a festival and made it a permanent fixture.
Then there were the smaller innovations. He used illustrated menus for customers who couldn't read and quick calculation tables for employees who struggled with math. Providing free water and plenty of seating, even for those who didn't order, naturally drew people into the space. The play area was a genius mix of free and paid entertainment that was fun just to watch. I didn't understand the point of the commission-free currency exchange at first, but once I saw the neighboring shops' sales spike, the logic became clear. We did have to limit the volume of exchanges to avoid putting local moneychangers out of business, though.
Finally, there was the stage. Having a space for theater and music was a brilliant touch. I thought he’d hire a famous troupe, but he simply left the stage open for anyone to rent. The first performers were a group of local housewives. Their play wasn't exactly professional, but the crowd loved it. People just wanted a place to express themselves.
"Father," I said later that day. "It seems I am still quite inexperienced."
"I think so too," Father replied bluntly. "It’s only natural."
"I will redouble my efforts. However... may I ask one thing?"
"What is it?"
"The person in the far lane... unless my eyes deceive me..."
"That’s the Demon King," Father said casually. "And the one in front of him is the Magistrate. Matches are heartless, Marlon. There is no need for hospitality or holding back. Go at them with everything you've got."
"U-Understood."
I gave it my all in the Big Roof Shashato Bowling Tournament. I managed to take third place. First place went to a man who seemed to be a regular at the shop. He was incredibly skilled. I realized then that I’d have to start coming here more often to practice.
And that was another lesson learned. By holding tournaments, you give people a goal to work toward, which keeps them coming back. Every move the Village Head made was a lesson in itself.