Monster Subjugation, Day 3
The day before yesterday, I had put a group of delinquent adventurers out of commission, and yesterday’s Goblin King incident had left many others injured. Consequently, the progress of the monster subjugation was falling behind schedule.
Because of the previous day's events, my party was disbanded. Jeff and the others were now each leading groups of low-rank adventurers to ensure their safety and provide guidance.
As for me, while I didn't need guidance, my low rank and lack of experience meant the guild was hesitant to let me lead others. As a result, I spent the day hunting alone with my slimes.
Catching Cave Bats and Small Rats was simple. I had the Sticky Slimes spit adhesive fluid onto sticks or coat them and swing them around, trapping the creatures like they’d been caught in birdlime. Meanwhile, the Cave Mantises were effortlessly picked off from outside the reach of their scythes by Poison Slimes wielding spears. They were quickly devoured as prey.
My slimes had really come a long way. Between their training and the sheer power of numbers, their individual combat ability had significantly improved. Watching them fight those mantises reminded me of a certain game back on Earth that had been incredibly popular for a while. The theme song was a relaxing, easygoing tune, but for some reason, I remembered the lyrics being shockingly grim.
I worked diligently, though I had enough of a lead to let my mind wander to such idle thoughts.
The morning session ended without incident. It would be a problem if every day were as chaotic as yesterday, after all. I spotted a group of five goblins once, but they were alone. When I reported it, the consensus was that they were likely stragglers from the village we had razed the day before, and that was the end of that.
During the afternoon, I spent my time experimenting with new combat tactics for the Sticky Slimes.
For example, I had them stick to the ceiling and stretch their bodies downward to hang as I moved through the tunnels. The Cave Bats were flying around so annoyingly that they reminded me of flies, so I decided to have the slimes mimic flypaper. It worked perfectly; the bats got stuck fast and were immediately predated.
I also tried giving instructions to the most dexterous Sticky Slime to flatten its body into a net mid-jump. It succeeded.
Next, I grabbed that slime and threw it toward a flying Cave Bat. The slime expanded into a net in mid-air, entangled the bat, and fell to the ground. I repeated the process with other Sticky Slimes. On average, they were catching four or five bats at a time.
This had all sorts of potential! Sticky Slimes were incredibly versatile. Their utility ranged from combat to everyday life. My excitement grew, and I continued overhunting small monsters with the Sticky Slimes until my shift ended.
Evening arrived.
I took a shared carriage back to the city, but just as we entered the gates, a wheel snapped. No one was injured, but the sudden jolt was violent and the carriage was no longer safe to drive. The passengers, myself included, had to finish the journey on foot.
The sun had set, and the aroma of dinner began to drift through the streets—likely from the nearby taverns. Some early birds were already drinking, their cheerful voices echoing through the air. As I walked through the peaceful atmosphere, I happened to pass by the Morgan Company, Serge’s shop.
Come to think of it, the mana recovery potion he gave me really saved me yesterday. I also needed to look at some bags to use as standards for the laundry shop, so I decided to stop in.
I found Serge almost immediately. He was speaking with a female clerk at the counter, but as soon as he saw me, he greeted me with a smile and led me to a reception room. I wouldn't have minded waiting while looking at the merchandise, but he was as attentive as ever.
"Welcome, Ryoma-sama. What can I do for you today?"
"I wanted to thank you. The mana recovery potion you gave me proved invaluable during yesterday's quest. Also, I’m looking for a specific item and didn't know a better place to shop."
"Is that so? I am delighted to hear our wares were of use to you. It is an honor that you thought of my shop for your needs. What is it you require?"
"I need several sturdy bags. The material can be cheap, but I’m still undecided on the exact size."
"I see. May I ask what they will be used for?"
It was a bit of a long story, but I explained that I was preparing to establish my independence. Serge looked at me with a mix of surprise and admiration as he listened to the details of the laundry shop.
"A side business between adventuring, and even planning for a potential retirement... Ryoma-sama, you possess a remarkable degree of foresight for your age."
Well, technically I was forty-two. I wasn't sure how I'd compare to a middle-aged man back in Japan, but I was certainly aware that my current job was dangerous and required a safety net. This world didn't seem to have much in the way of insurance or pensions, and even if they existed, the requirements were likely steep.
"No, it's really not that much," I demurred.
"You are too humble. But a laundry shop... indeed, at a price point of one small copper to one medium copper per bag, it would likely see high demand from both adventurers and the general public. However, you will need labor to handle the washing and ensure the results satisfy the customers. Even if it starts small, you won't be able to keep up alone once your clientele grows."
Right, I had forgotten to mention the Cleaner Slimes.
"I neglected to mention something. Please wait a moment."
I summoned a Cleaner Slime from my Dimension Home.
"This is one of my tamed monsters, a Cleaner Slime."
"I have never heard of such a species."
"Yes, it’s a new species I discovered. I’ve shared the information with the Tamer Guild, but I’m likely the only person in the world currently contracted with one."
Since the gods themselves told me it was a new species, mine were probably the only ones in existence.
"And how does this slime relate to the business?"
"This slime possesses a skill called Sanitization. It consumes only filth. Once it eats the dirt off an object, the item is perfectly clean—cleaner, in fact, than if it were washed by hand."
Serge sat there, mouth agape. As I expected, it was a hard claim to swallow. I reached into my Item Box and pulled out a goblin loincloth I’d scavenged earlier that day.
"It’s hard to believe just by hearing it, so please, look at this. This is a loincloth from a goblin I killed today. If you'll allow me, I’ll have the slime clean it right here in front of you."
Serge swallowed hard and nodded. "By all means, please."
"Would you like to appraise it first, just to be sure?"
"I shall, though the smell alone confirms its origin."
Serge gave a light laugh and performed the Appraisal. Once he confirmed it was a filthy goblin cloth, I handed it to the Cleaner Slime. The slime took the cloth into its body and began to churn like a washing machine. The stains vanished in the blink of an eye. In less than thirty seconds, the slime spat the cloth out onto the table.
Serge tentatively picked up the cloth, which was now a completely different color. He appraised it again. When the result came back as "Sanitized Cloth," his eyes lit up.
"To think you could make a goblin's loincloth this clean in such a short time!" he cried, grabbing my hands in excitement.
My hands were a bit dirty from touching the cloth, a fact Serge realized when he saw my expression. His face clouded over with embarrassment, so I took the opportunity to explain the Cleaner Slime Bath and let him experience it on his hands.
After checking his own hands with Appraisal, he launched into another storm of praise. He was clearly a good man who didn't look down on me despite my age or appearance, but his energy was mentally exhausting.
"I apologize for my outburst. But this slime is truly magnificent! With this, there should be no obstacle to your laundry shop. The price, the speed, the quality... I can already see it prospering."
He was getting ahead of himself.
"So, what size bag do you think would be appropriate? I’m afraid I’m not well-versed in market standards."
"Let me see... I’ll have some samples brought in."
Serge called for a clerk, who brought several bags of varying sizes.
"As you can see, they increase in size from left to right. The smallest on the left fits roughly one adult’s set of clothes."
"I’d like something a bit larger. Families will have more laundry, and I imagine single men might let their washing pile up if they find it a chore. Besides, I think customers will feel they’re getting a better deal if they can fit four or five items for one medium copper coin rather than paying per item. For me, the effort is the same whether it's one shirt or five. As long as I can cover my living expenses, I don't need a huge profit margin per load. I want to prioritize low margins and high volume to secure repeat customers."
I’d relied on that business model plenty in my previous life—beef bowl shops, for example. I had been a loyal repeat customer at the shops near my old home, and while I couldn't guess the total amount of money I'd spent there, I didn't regret a cent. They had supported my daily life. In the same way, I knew that securing repeat customers was vital, and low prices were a powerful weapon for that—provided the quality was there.
Serge was staring at me with sparkling eyes again.
"Marvelous. You already have a sophisticated management policy that looks to the long term rather than being blinded by immediate gain. I am deeply impressed."
I felt a bit awkward. I was just speaking from experience, but being praised this much made me feel a strange sense of guilt, as if I were plagiarizing the hard work of business students back in Japan. Well, I suppose this was just "brainstorming."
"Then what about this bag?" Serge suggested. "It can hold about two days' worth of clothing for a family of three or four."
"That looks good. For a single person, that would be about a week's worth of clothes, which is a perfect interval. Let's go with that. Could I also get a few bags twice that size, and some five times as large?"
"I can provide them, but aren't those a bit too big?"
"The first bag is for individuals. The double-sized bag is for small groups like adventurer parties. The largest one is for organizations: the Adventurer Guild, blacksmith workshops with many apprentices, or construction crews."
I laid out the logic for him.
"If the individual bag is ten Suut—one medium copper—then perhaps the double-sized bag could be eighteen Suut, and the largest could be forty Suut. By offering a volume discount for groups, I can encourage people to pool their laundry together, which helps spread word of the shop. Furthermore, larger groups generate laundry faster. A bag that lasts one person two weeks would be filled in a single day by a group of fourteen. If they come in every day, I have a steady daily income. Even if the price per person is lower, the long-term profit is guaranteed. If I frame it that way, I think it becomes a very attractive service."
Brainstorming—the act of throwing out ideas without immediate self-judgment. It had been a long time, but the old habits came back with surprising ease.
"Furthermore, blacksmiths and laborers work in dirty environments. If they see how well we clean their work clothes, they’re likely to bring in their private clothes as well. Many of those workplaces are male-dominated, and as I heard from some adventurers today, many of them find laundry to be a massive hassle. If I can secure a large-scale contract with a workplace, I can capture that entire demographic..."
I suddenly noticed Serge’s expression.
Oh, no. I’d done it again. Serge was frozen, staring at me with wide eyes. I’d always had a habit of monologuing when I got into a topic. It was a habit that had caused me plenty of grief in my professional and personal life back on Earth. I suppose I’d let my guard down because I was finally talking about something that felt like my old job.