I visited Village Five roughly once every ten days.
Yoko looked as if she wanted me to come more often, but I had winter preparations to attend to. In fact, these trips to Village Five were part of those very preparations. I needed to ensure everything was ready in case we had to evacuate to the village during a severe blizzard or some other emergency.
Truthfully, I suspected we could live perfectly well in the Great Tree Dungeon without ever relocating to Village Five, but I preferred to be as cautious as possible.
That said, my primary task in Village Five was simply to receive greetings from the merchants who were helping us stockpile food and fuel. While the supplies would likely be gathered to a sufficient level even without my presence, human connections were what truly mattered in a crisis. I wanted to make sure I knew who I was dealing with.
Establishing connections, however, meant becoming true acquaintances. That required me to remember names and faces, as well as the specific nature of each person's business. In other words, it was a test of memory.
I considered my memory to be... well, average. I often wondered if the merchants who came to see me were intentionally trying to challenge that average memory of mine.
First of all, there were simply too many of them: thirty-five in total. Next, their names were all incredibly similar. I could understand siblings or parents and children running separate shops, but did the shop names really have to be so alike? In some cases, the parent and child even shared the same name—I almost suspected they were doing it just to spite me.
To top it all off, they were all dressed in the exact same fashion. I began to wonder if I had done something to earn such universal spite. When I asked the Civil Official Girls standing beside me, however, they quickly dismissed the idea. Apparently, they were all wearing the same style because they had their clothes made at a tailor I had once praised.
Could I have actually praised a tailor? I usually wore clothes made by Zabuton and rarely ever visited a tailor's shop.
As I stood there, bewildered, one of the Civil Official Girls provided the answer. Apparently, a merchant had once complimented my outfit, and as a polite social grace, I had returned the favor by praising what he was wearing.
Now that she mentioned it, I suppose that might have happened. It was just idle chatter; there was no way I would have remembered it. I didn't even recall what the clothes looked like.
Ah, so I had accidentally praised the fashion they were all wearing now. And because of that, everyone had adopted the same look. I wondered if information was being shared among the merchants specifically to prevent anyone from getting ahead of the others, or perhaps to foster mutual cooperation.
I suppose it was a good thing that the merchants were helping each other out. Their camaraderie wasn't a problem, though I did wonder if I should warn them against price-fixing. Then again, I was told that no merchant in Village Five would ever dream of such a thing. I decided to trust them. It wasn't right to start a relationship with suspicion.
I finished the greetings while making sure not to miss any vital information buried within the small talk. Afterward, I checked with the Civil Official Girls to see if I had made any social blunders. They told me everything was fine, but I pressed them for details.
Lately, the Civil Official Girls had developed a tendency to avoid correcting my mistakes. Instead, they would try to rewrite reality to make my errors the "correct" answer. I suspected this was Ruincia's influence at work. I couldn't afford to let my guard down.
Sure enough, they eventually pointed out a few minor issues. I listened to their feedback and reflected on my performance. Between the fashion incident and the way my words were being handled, I realized I needed to be extremely careful about what I said.
After the merchant greetings, I went to watch the races held at the foot of the mountain.
Belford, the horse from the Village of the Great Tree that I favored for riding, had entered one of the events, but it didn't turn out to be much of a contest. For some reason, the other horses refused to even try to overtake him. Belford looked quite bored himself, despite all the training he had put in.
The other races, however, were reasonably exciting. Since gambling was involved, the air was filled with triumphant roars and cries of despair.
Surprisingly, the loudest cheers of joy often came from Prada, who was sitting near me. She seemed to be winning quite a lot of money. Just as I was starting to be impressed by her luck, she bet her entire winnings on the final race and let out a soul-crushing wail of sorrow.
I see. I felt like I finally understood Prada’s true nature.
Prada then introduced me to the members of the bandit gang that had attacked us during the auction. Apparently, the remnants of the group had trickled into Village Five as well, and the authorities had captured every last one of them.
There were over a hundred bandits in total, and their punishment was forced labor. They were divided into two main work groups.
The first was the Adventurer Group. they hunted monsters and magic beasts in the forests surrounding Village Five, with a portion of their bounties being deducted as fines.
The second was the Worker Group. They sought employment in the village's construction and dining industries, with a portion of their wages going toward their debts.
In both cases, they weren't being held in a jail. Instead, they rented several cheap buildings and lived together as a community. Even after accounting for their rent and daily living expenses, it looked like they would be paying off their fines for about five years.
I wondered if that was considered harsh. It seemed rather lenient to me, as they were quite free and could choose their own meals.
"Yoko-sama believes that rather than forcing them into labor they hate, it is more efficient to let them do work they are suited for," Prada explained.
That made sense, I suppose. Still, it felt like the punitive aspect of the sentence was being a bit diluted. Regardless, I had left these matters to Yoko, so I kept my opinions to myself. The bandits offered me a formal apology, which I accepted. It seemed Prada had been put in charge of managing them.
As night fell over Village Five, Yuri took to the stage.
The crowd was incredibly energetic. It was likely due to her idol-like outfit and the catchy songs she performed. The band backing her up was also quite talented.
Looking closer at the musicians, I realized they were the same noble daughters who had introduced themselves to me back at the auction. They played the lute, harp, taiko drum, and flute with great dedication. The drum seemed a little quiet, but they were doing well overall.
Wait, weren't there five of them? I looked around and saw the final girl standing in the wings of the stage. Was she just a spectator?
The Civil Official Girls informed me that this family of noble daughters specialized in music. Essentially, they were the type who had been elevated to nobility based on a single, exceptional talent. They had originally been commoners, but after their skill was recognized, they gained noble patrons and eventually earned a title of their own.
Because of this, they didn't own any land. They lived on an annual stipend provided by the royal family based on their rank. Of course, that stipend wasn't enough to support the entire clan, so they earned extra income through private concerts and music tutoring. The four girls in the band were the daughters or younger sisters of fairly famous teachers.
In other words, they didn't have their own reputations yet. Looking at the performance, however, they certainly seemed skilled enough.
"The students have their own pride, so if the teachers are too young, it causes friction..." the official explained.
That made sense. I imagine Yuri had sought out these talented but underutilized musicians and invited them to form a band.
But what about the girl in the wings?
"She is a user of voice-amplifying magic."
I hadn't even noticed. Now that it was pointed out, I realized her singing and the instruments were being projected with perfect clarity. It was an impressive bit of magic. I felt a bit bad for assuming she was just a bystander.
Yuri sang six songs in total, working the crowd into a frenzy. It was quite a feat. I was genuinely impressed when she came over to greet me afterward.
Despite her success, Yuri looked deeply dissatisfied. I wondered if she had made a mistake I hadn't noticed.
I was wrong. The cause of her frustration was the deafening roar of approval for the next act to take the stage. The cheer was far louder than anything Yuri had received during her entire set.
The figure standing on the stage was Five-kun—the beloved mascot character of Village Five.
"I just can't accept losing to that thing yet..." Yuri muttered.