Autumn had arrived.
Actually, it had been autumn for a little while already. Thanks to the Sun Castle, I could visually track the passing seasons. Its calendar was quite impressive, even if the counter-clockwise rotation bothered me a bit.
The harvest began. The entire village was working hard, and Alfred offered to help as well. I told him I was counting on him, but warned him not to overdo it. Harvesting had started in the other villages too. The yields sounded promising, though I had received reports that growth in a few fields was lackluster. I planned to look into the details more closely later.
Once the harvest was finished, it would be time for the martial arts tournament. This year, I had left the preparations and management entirely to the Civil Official Girls. That left me with my own matters to ponder.
Specifically, Big Roof Shashato—or more accurately, the development of that entire surrounding district. When I visited Shashato City at the beginning of the season, I noticed that about half of the south side of Big Roof Shashato had been converted into a ranch. It was likely preparation for the station. I had left that area to Michael-san and Marlon, so I did not intend to meddle unnecessarily.
They were running several carriages around the perimeter of Big Roof Shashato as a sort of test run and to train the drivers. The facility was massive, measuring eight hundred meters around. They stopped at every corner to pick up passengers, making for a safe, leisurely drive that took fifteen to twenty minutes per circuit. These sightseeing carriages, which essentially went nowhere, were surprisingly popular. I could understand why children would want a ride, but most of the passengers were local housewives. For people who usually only had the chance to ride a carriage when moving between cities, the opportunity to ride for free was apparently a major draw. Even with a one-circuit limit, a considerable queue always formed. Seeing the crowds, Michael-san and Marlon were convinced the station would be a success.
However, I noticed a bit of an oversight. The advertisements painted on the carriages were text-only. Given the low literacy rate among the residents, the ads would not be very effective. I had originally envisioned them as pictures, but it seemed there had been a lapse in communication. I reflected on the mistake; at least we had caught it early.
The real challenge was deciding what to do with the east side of Big Roof Shashato. I had been discussing it with Michael-san and his team, but in the end, they told me the final decision was mine. Was that really a good idea? I was a man who had not spent even a week total in that city. But since I was the one who bought the land, they insisted it was only natural that I decide. Fair enough.
My goal was to create facilities that would draw people in and increase the overall profit for Big Roof Shashato. A theater was my first thought. The problem was the content. There were no professional theater troupes available for public hire; the pros were all retained by nobles and only performed at private parties. Musicians were the same way. There were amateur troupes, but they were mostly people who were not good enough to be retained by nobility. They already used the small stage inside Big Roof Shashato, and even then, they did not seem to be utilizing it fully. Building a dedicated theater felt like a waste if the performances could not live up to the venue.
So, I reluctantly gave up on the theater. What else could pull a crowd? I had previously suggested an aquarium for the south side, but that was shot down due to the logistical nightmare of transporting and keeping fish alive so far from the shore. I had also suggested an Academy, but the merchants were hesitant, saying that was not the kind of thing they should be involved in. A school of that scale would need government or royal support. I needed to stop thinking so big. I was a Village Head, not a Mayor.
Maybe I could scale the school idea down? A Private School of sorts. Nothing grand—just a place for a few hours of study a day. Finding teachers might be an issue, but the employees at Big Roof Shashato could probably handle it. The Private School idea seemed viable. The only catch was that a school alone would not fill the massive 200-meter by 200-meter plot on the east side.
Well, I did not have to limit it to just one thing. Even if construction costs went up, splitting the land into several buildings was a solid plan. In that case, I wanted to move forward with the Large Public Bath I had been pitching to Michael-san. Shashato City was not unhygienic, but the lack of baths was a constant frustration for me. The baths in the employee dorms were popular, so I knew there was a market for it... I think. Then again, the employees used them because they were free. Would people actually pay to make bathing a habit?
Actually, the real issue was that I could not find a place to bathe when I visited the city. There was a bath in the house I had built for Marcos and Paula, but I felt awkward borrowing it. It was a nuisance for them. The one time I had asked, the employees on break dropped everything to scrub the bathroom for me. While Lu, Tia, and Hakuren saw that as perfectly normal, it made me feel guilty. I just wanted to soak in peace. So, the Large Public Bath was definitely going on the list.
What else? Maybe lodging. Once the station was fully operational, the area would naturally become a hub for travelers. Having inns nearby was a smart move. The inn Michael-san had booked for me in Shashato was quite nice. It was luxurious, with large rooms, sturdy beds, tables, and chairs. The windows had clean curtains, and every room had its own outhouse. There was no running water or bath, but you just had to signal the maid or valet waiting in the next room and they would bring whatever you needed. Having staff on standby in the adjacent room was truly impressive.
However, if I am being honest, I preferred the village inn. It was simpler and more comfortable. Even the furniture and curtains in the village felt like higher quality to me. Maybe it was just a difference in attachment, or maybe I was just biased because it was home. Lu and Tia described the city’s luxury inns as high quality for commoners. Hakuren had no comment.
That was not surprising. Before we went to Shashato, we had stayed a night at Draim’s Nest. When you hear "Dragon’s Nest," you imagine a rocky cave, but the area where Draim lived was a massive house—more of a palace, really—carved into the mountain. It had a proper audience chamber and everything. The decor was lavish, with expensive carpets and intricate details on every surface, all maintained by Devil Race butlers and maids. I was blown away, but apparently, the nests of Dos and Raimeiren were even more extravagant.
I had worried if they were truly satisfied staying in the village mansion after living in such luxury, but Draim’s personal room was a cozy, eight-mat space. He even had a kotatsu out, despite it only being early autumn. He also seemed to love the bedding he had purchased from the Village of the Great Tree. I would have been happy with a room like that, but they had put me in a guest suite the size of an art gallery. I could barely sleep, while Lu and Tia were sound asleep beside me.
Anyway, back to Shashato. The inn I stayed in was fancy, but I felt it could be better. According to Galf, however, a room like that was enough to make a commoner tremble with intimidation. It was essentially noble-class lodging. To prove his point, Galf took me to see some cheap inns, and I was horrified.
A cheap inn was not even an inn. It was just a space partitioned by wooden boards. No doors, no beds. The tier below that was just a room with a roof where people slept on the floor in a big huddle. There was zero security; you had to guard your belongings with your life. I would rather sleep in the woods. I also checked out a mid-tier inn—the classic RPG style with a tavern on the first floor and cramped rooms on the second. Meals cost extra. The rooms had beds and nothing else, and the windows had iron bars to prevent people from skipping out on the bill.
Looking at the prices: the luxury inn was two silver coins a night including meals. The mid-tier was about three large copper coins without food. The cheap inn was two medium copper coins just to get in. The disparity was staggering.
If I were to build lodging, which market should I target? I did not want to drive existing businesses under. Should I aim for the one-large-copper price point? Or ten? Or go all-in on a ten-silver-coin elite hotel? It was a tough call.
Actually, I have the space. I will just build all of them. Then I can phase out the ones that do not work and keep the ones that are popular. The only issue was labor. I would have to see if Michael-san or Goldie could help with that. So, that made the Private School, the Large Public Bath, and the tiered lodging. For the remaining space, I figured I would just build shop units and rent them out. I wanted to attract businesses focused on beauty and accessories. My target was traveling women. They would arrive at the station by carriage, be drawn in by the shops, then find the public bath and comfortable lodging right there. And of course, the Big Roof Shashato food court would be right across the street. It felt like a solid plan.
Before showing the draft to Michael-san, I ran it by the villagers. The Private School was well-received. People liked the idea of being able to drop in and learn whenever they had time. The Lizardmen and Galf even volunteered to teach weapon handling, so I added that to the curriculum. No one objected to the bathhouse, though they were worried about the water supply. Being near the ocean did not mean fresh water was abundant. I would have to discuss the logistics of that with Michael-san.
The lodging idea got mixed reviews. Some thought you could never have too many safe places to stay. Others were worried about guest conduct. This was not Japan. People here carried weapons and used magic. If a fight broke out in a high-end inn, the damage would be catastrophic. That was likely why cheaper inns had so little furniture. Maybe sticking to a high-end clientele was the safer bet? I had originally envisioned a sort of capsule hotel for the one-copper price point, but I would wait for Michael-san’s input before making a final call.
I would handle the design and the business model, but the actual operation would be left to the Goroun Company and the local staff. If I lived in the city, I could do more, but... no. I was the Village Head. My priority was the village. The shop in the city had just grown much larger than I had ever intended.
I really needed to reflect on my lack of common sense regarding money. It turned out my estimate of a gold coin's value was off by a factor of a hundred. And the land was ten to twenty times cheaper than I had thought. No wonder the facility ended up so huge. In my defense, it was not entirely my fault. My dealings with Dos and the others had skewed my perception.
Whenever the harvest ended, I gave the dragons a share of the crops for free. In return, they brought souvenirs whenever they visited for festivals or tournaments. At first, it was weapons and magic items, but those were hard to trade or use in daily life, so they started bringing cash instead. They brought the large barrels we used for wine in the village, filled to the brim with gold coins. It was not on the level of hundreds or thousands; it was an unthinkable amount. I was terrified, but for a dragon, money was apparently as common as dirt. Dos supposedly had enough gold to fill ten thousand of those barrels and still have change. Even Draim, who was poor by dragon standards, had about a thousand barrels' worth. When Lu and the others told me, "This is roughly the value of the jewelry we used to get converted into money," I figured gold coins just were not that special. None of the other villagers seemed surprised, either.
I was an idiot. I had completely forgotten that Dos was the most powerful dragon in the world. The villagers were not surprised because their senses had been numbed by our trade deals. Our grains and fruits sold for a hundred to a thousand times the market price. Honey and seasonings were sky-high. All our transactions involved gold coins. This was another reason why my senses went haywire. Or rather, if they were not worth that much, Michael-san would not bother coming all the way out here. It all made sense once it was explained to me.
I really did not know how the world worked. Now that I understood the value of the coins, I decided that the Dragon Race did not need to bring souvenirs anymore starting next year. They said it was a breach of etiquette, but I shut them down with one question.
"Do you really need to bring a gift just to see your daughter and grandson?"
I told Progenitor-san the same thing. Even if we were not related by blood, he was like Lu’s grandfather. As for the Demon King... it might be hard for Frau and the girls to tell him no, but I would find a way to refuse his gifts eventually. Michael-san did not need to bring souvenirs either; our seafood trade was more than enough. When I was told there was no need to give a merchant souvenirs, I realized I still had much to learn.
On a side note, I heard that if an adventurer ever conquered a Dragon's Nest, the sudden influx of gold would cause the currency's value to plummet. I see.
"Though, in the last few hundred years," one of the girls added, "the only human who has 'beaten' a dragon is the Village Head."