Phew. I somehow managed to pull it off.
That was the only thought running through my head. Honestly, it was a close call. The crowds were even larger than I’d anticipated. It was all my fault, really—a result of my own carelessness when I’d thoughtlessly promised everything would be free just to settle the initial commotion.
I needed to reflect on that. And to the employees, the villagers who came to help, everyone—thank you. I also owed a debt of gratitude to Michael-san, Goldie, and even the regulars who lent a hand.
My proposal to put shops inside the shop—a sort of flea market in my mind—had been met with surprise, but people accepted it. It had basically turned into a food court. Well, since I’d planned to recruit the neighboring restaurant owners who were angry about the free curry from the start, I suppose this outcome was inevitable.
The transition went surprisingly smoothly. Michael-san’s son, Marlon, was clearly highly capable. He was quite impressive. Marlon’s cousins, Tito and Randy, were also efficient. I wondered if Michael-san had been the one to train them. It was good to see the next generation in such capable hands; I was almost envious. My own sons... well, for now, I was just happy to see them growing up healthy.
Usually, we closed the shop as soon as the sun went down, but today we ran a bit late. Since we were selling Karaage and Sake, the customers were incredibly reluctant to leave. Of course, the free curry distribution had long since ended.
"Village Head, isn't it about time you headed back? It might get troublesome otherwise," Progenitor-san warned me.
When I’d first come to this city, I had made a firm promise to those staying behind in the village that I would return home every single night. If possible, I wanted to stay until the very end, but I had to keep my word. There was always tomorrow.
I said my goodbyes to Marcos and Paula, who were already preparing for the next day, as well as Michael-san and the others, before heading back to the village. Those who had transported the extra ingredients and the reinforcements returned with me. Only Galf stayed behind. I was sure things would be fine, but it was a precaution just in case.
"Sorry to leave this to you," I said.
"Don't give it a second thought," he replied, taking on the task readily. He was a huge help.
Once back at the village, I had a late dinner. The restaurant employees had been eating in shifts, but we had held off. The atmosphere hadn't exactly been right for a slow, relaxed meal. That said, I had managed to do some "quality control" snacking throughout the day.
Specifically, I’d tested the Karaage I’d had the High Ogre Maids prepare and sell. Since it was competing with free curry, it didn't sell at all at first. To get things moving, we gave it away as a service to customers who helped with the cleaning. I figured if people saw others eating it, they’d be tempted to try it themselves. I ate some, the employees ate some, and even Michael-san and his group had some.
The reaction was great. We sold them at one medium copper coin for three small pieces. I wasn't sure if that was a bargain or a ripoff, but they sold quite well. At the same time, the beer the Dwarves were selling right next door flew off the shelves. As it turned out, Karaage was a much more popular pairing for beer than curry was.
After finishing my meal and reflecting on the day, I gave my report. I explained why I was late, though since Progenitor-san had relayed the message when he went back for reinforcements, there was no real confusion. I told everyone I’d be heading back again tomorrow, and that was that. I was just glad everyone was so understanding.
The next day, I traveled back to Shashato City with the same group. I really was indebted to Progenitor-san for the transport. I told the Minotaurs and Lizardmen they didn't have to force themselves to tag along, though I appreciated the help.
Marcos, Paula, Galf, and Michael-san were all waiting for us. The shop was already open, with a few customers trickling in. They’d opened earlier than I expected. I worried if Marcos and Paula were okay—they hadn't stayed up all night, had they? According to Galf, they’d gotten a proper night’s sleep.
Regardless, I had the High Ogre Maids who came with me help out in the kitchen. The Dwarves went back to selling alcohol just like the day before. Even though it was early morning, orders were already coming in. I suppose people had been waiting.
Up until now, the shop had been selling about two thousand servings of curry a day. At five medium copper coins a bowl, the daily revenue was ten thousand medium copper coins. Out of that, the employees were paid three medium copper coins a day. We had two hundred and seven people exactly, so that was six hundred and twenty-one coins in wages. I’d thought three coins was low, but Michael-san insisted it was actually quite high since we provided all their food, clothing, and housing.
I guess that’s just how things are here.
Supplies like bread cost about three thousand coins a day. On top of that, we paid Goldie’s crew for crowd control and handled waste disposal, which cost another five hundred or so. That left a daily profit of five thousand eight hundred and seventy-nine medium copper coins.
It was a rough estimate, but since Marcos and Paula had been running the shop for about thirty days, the current profit was somewhere around one hundred and seventy-six thousand. However, between initial investments for dishes, uniforms, aprons, and the production of the Mini Bowling sets, we’d spent about three hundred thousand. We were still technically in the red.
I see. If you factored in the construction costs for the building itself, we were massively in the hole. Still, there was no need for them to feel bad about it. They were doing a fantastic job. Selling two thousand servings a day was incredible. Assuming ten hours of business, that was two hundred bowls an hour—three or four every single minute. It was no wonder we needed so many employees.
All those employees lived in the dedicated housing we’d built—essentially a dormitory. It was a three-story building with twelve rooms per floor. Squeezing two hundred and seven people into thirty-six rooms meant five or six people per room, but no one complained. Apparently, having curtains for privacy and a semi-private space was considered the height of luxury.
Is that really the standard?
There were outhouses in the dorm, but no baths. We’d built a bathhouse right next door instead. I wanted the employees to be able to stay clean. Not everyone worked during the day; some helped with prep at night or managed the dorms and baths. Excluding them, we usually had about a hundred and twenty to a hundred and thirty people at the shop. Yesterday had been an exception, but I think we were reaching our limits. I wondered if I needed to hire even more people.
In any case, things were back to business as usual today, but the Southwest Area was already buzzing. Stalls were being moved in, and while few were actually open yet, the area was full of energy. Naturally, that meant trouble, too. Goldie was handling it, but it took a lot of manpower to keep the peace. I asked the Minotaurs and Lizardmen to handle the patrols. I made sure to tell them not to threaten anyone—they were to leave their blades behind and carry wooden sticks instead.
Marlon was also darting around the Southwest Area. I decided to leave that side of things to him.
The Mountain Elves continued their work from yesterday. Since the High Elves were finished with the partitions, I decided to have them help out the Mountain Elves. Looking over the space, I noticed the area where the Mini Bowling was set up. It was the same size as the one in the village, but we had enough room here for a full-sized bowling alley.
I didn't know the exact professional dimensions, but I set the distance based on my memories from when I was younger. Even if I got it wrong, it wasn't like anyone here would know better. I’d considered removing the Mini Bowling, but the regulars were giving me such intense looks that we decided to just move it to a different spot and keep it.
"Well, you can never have too many games," I muttered.
I asked the High Elves to build the lanes while I handled the pins and balls. These were High Elves who could build a house in a single day, so in just a few hours, ten lanes—each twenty meters long and a meter wide—were neatly lined up. We could have fit more, but this was a good start.
The real bottleneck was manpower. Returning the balls and resetting the pins was all done manually. To help out, I added a ten-centimeter ledge to the lanes and a groove running alongside the gutter. The groove was deeper at the front and shallower at the back, so the person at the end of the lane could just set the ball in it and let it roll back to the thrower. It would make things at least a little easier.
I also made a rack for the pins—a thick board with holes in the correct formation. By placing the board down and dropping the pins into the holes, they could reset the lane much faster.
The regulars were practically vibrating with excitement, so I let them do the trial runs. The Play Area Personnel were supposed to handle the pins, but when things got too busy, the customers just started doing it themselves. It was a big help.
"Hey, we're getting to play for free, so it's the least we can do," one of them said.
"Honestly, you could probably charge us for this," another added.
They were great customers. Still, I didn't feel right charging for bowling as it was. Maybe it was because I remembered the automated machines from my old life, but the time it took for the ball to return and the pins to be reset felt incredibly slow. It was a very leisurely experience. I didn't mind throwing a few balls, but playing an entire game would require real patience. It just took so long.
I suppose it was fine if you were chatting with friends, but I personally preferred to keep things moving. So far, the only ones who seemed to share my desire for a faster pace were the children. The adults were perfectly happy to relax and enjoy the game at a snail’s pace. Maybe I just lacked elegance.
Still, since I wanted to cover the maintenance costs, I wondered if people would buy their own equipment. If I could sell "My Balls" or "My Pins," maybe I could earn enough to hire dedicated staff just for the bowling alley.
"With the distance being this long, you really have to stabilize your form," someone noted.
"The balls are a lot bigger, too."
"How are you supposed to use the ones with holes in them?"
"It looks like you have to learn the quirks of the ball as well as the lane."
They seemed to be enjoying themselves, so I figured I might hold a tournament later to drum up more interest.
The Ring Toss and Shooting Gallery the Mountain Elves had been working on were also ready. I decided to let Michael-san and his group test them out.
First was the Ring Toss. One medium copper coin got you five rings. You threw them at the prizes, and if you hooked one, you won it. Simple.
"This is... harder than it looks. I can't hit the mark at all," Michael-san said after missing every single throw. Tito got two, Randy got one, and Milford managed to land four.
The rings were a decent size and the rules were lenient, but I’d placed obstacles like sticks and small walls around the high-value prizes to make them harder to hit. Michael-san’s feedback was that it should actually be harder. At the current difficulty, someone with a steady hand could probably clean us out. I see. I asked the Mountain Elf in charge of the game to make some adjustments. Maybe smaller rings, or more obstacles.
Next was the Shooting Gallery. We provided bows and arrows to shoot at targets. Initially, I’d planned to have them shoot directly at the prizes, but the bows were strong enough to punch holes through the items during testing. So, we switched to targets instead.
The targets were modeled after monsters people disliked, with points assigned to different areas. One medium copper coin bought three arrows. The prize depended on your total score. Easy spots were worth few points, while difficult spots were worth more.
To make it interesting, the targets didn't sit still. The Mountain Elves had built a mechanism where someone turning a handle would make the targets move irregularly. It was meant to be a fun game, but it clearly wasn't designed to let people win easily.
"We're using these bows?" Milford asked. He was a former adventurer, so he examined the equipment with a keen eye. The bows were Small Bows meant for children, but I had Large Bows ready for anyone who wanted to complain.
"Is the loose stringing meant to adjust the difficulty?" he asked.
"It's for safety. I want even amateurs to be able to use them."
"I see. However, these bows are actually quite high-quality. If someone re-strung them properly, they’d be perfectly functional weapons. There’s a real risk of someone stealing them."
I’d bought them as used goods in the city and didn't think they were that expensive, but I definitely didn't want them stolen.
"Also, even if they're treated as toys, people are still shooting arrows. You should enclose this area with higher walls. We need to make sure no stray shots hit bystanders."
That was a fair point. He also suggested the walls would help prevent theft. I immediately adopted the idea. Michael-san, Tito, and Randy were itching to try, so we set up some temporary walls and let them have at it.
"Oh! It flew! It actually flew straight!"
"I can actually use a bow like this!"
"I did it! Bullseye! That's ten points!"
They were surprisingly excited. I had a feeling this would be even more popular than the Ring Toss. Meanwhile, Milford was busy buying extra arrows from the Mountain Elves. It looked like he’d missed every shot on his first round. Maybe being an expert actually made it harder to adjust to the toy-like equipment. I figured we could set up ranks—beginner, intermediate, and advanced—and vary the prizes.
I tried it myself, but I missed every single shot. It was unexpectedly frustrating.
Well, with that settled...
Hmm? I noticed Marlon looking my way. It wasn't like I was just playing around; this was legitimate business. But he had a look in his eyes that suggested something was up.
When I tilted my head in confusion, Michael-san leaned in and whispered the answer. Apparently, the person standing next to Marlon was a representative from the Commerce Guild.