That night, once we finished cleaning the hot spring, the Lord praised our work and handed over the promised ten small gold coins.
I split the reward fifty-fifty with the members of Shikumu's Pier. I had originally intended to distribute the coins equally among everyone, but they all declined. They argued that because everything used for the job—from the technical knowledge of the acidic mucus to the cloths and the slimes—belonged to me, I deserved the larger share. Still, they had provided the manual labor, and my conscience wouldn't allow me to give them nothing. After some back-and-forth, we finally settled on the half-and-half split.
As soon as they had their coins in hand, the men from Shikumu's Pier spent the evening buying up goods in the city before we headed home. They bought premium liquor, delicacies, and various household items. On the way there, we had only needed one boat, but we had to rent a second small craft just to carry all their luggage back. Once we arrived at the village, the sheer amount of cargo caught the eyes of the locals, sparking a massive commotion about how much money they must have made. It was quite an ordeal to get through, but I had to admit it was fun.
Thinking back on the day’s events, I stretched out on the futon in my rented room.
"Mmm... Phew. The cleaning was a success, I found some inspiration for new recipes, and most importantly, I discovered a practical use for acidic mucus. It really was a productive day. Now then, before I turn in..."
I opened my Dimension Home and retrieved the containers of leftover acidic mucus. I also took out a Pearl Slime and several of the edible spiral shells I had been feeding it to trigger its evolution.
The morning I first realized that an Acid Slime had evolved into a Pearl Slime, I had been reminded of the "mayonnaise pearl" theory. However, after the day's cleaning work, a different possibility had occurred to me.
To verify this new hypothesis, I confirmed that the Pearl Slime still recognized the edible shells as food, then submerged them in the leftover acidic mucus. Bubbles immediately began to rise from the surface of the shell placed in the highest-concentration solution.
Once the reaction stopped, I rinsed the shell in a separate container and had a Cleaner Slime wash away any remaining moisture and debris. The acid had begun to eat away at the outer layer, though a fine, sand-like crust still clung to parts of it. I submerged it in the acid once more.
After repeating this process several times, I eventually ran out of mucus. I decided to leave the shell to soak overnight in what was left. I returned the slimes and my tools to my Dimension Home and finally went to sleep.
The next morning, I woke up earlier than usual, likely due to the anticipation of the experiment. After getting dressed and preparing for the day, I checked the results.
The shell that had been soaking in the acidic mucus all night was exactly as I had expected.
"Just as I thought."
The acid had dissolved the outer crust, revealing clean, white patches in several places. When I lightly polished the surface, a beautiful layer of nacre was exposed.
Nacre. Much like a pearl itself, it is a lustrous substance composed primarily of calcium carbonate secreted by the mantle of a mollusk. It isn't exclusive to shells that produce internal pearls; several varieties of spiral shells possess this mother-of-pearl layer. In Japan, the "Yakougai" found in regions like Okinawa is a famous example, and its meat is also a delicacy.
Granted, those were saltwater shells, while these were from the lake.
"Appraisal."
Sunagakure: A type of freshwater spiral shell. It uses secreted mucus to attach fine sand and stones to its exterior, hardening them into a crust to deceive predators. Edible; commonly prepared as tsuboyaki and is considered delicious. However, the luster of the internal nacre is lost when exposed to high heat.
"So, these shells lived in the lake here. The slime must have eaten the nacre hidden inside the shells and evolved into a Pearl Slime."
This was a far more logical explanation than the convoluted idea of acid and eggs creating "mayonnaise pearls." With the mystery of the evolution solved, I felt a sense of relief.
"...Now, the question is what to do with this information."
A few days ago, Selerepta—who was, after all, a god—had told me that the value of pearls in this world was higher than I imagined. If that were the case, these shells, which shared that same brilliance, could become valuable products if processed correctly.
At the very least, among the accessory stalls I had seen in the city, none of them featured nacre, though they did sell items made from brightly colored shells. These Sunagakure shells were discarded by the villagers in massive quantities every single day, which suggested they were seen strictly as food.
It seemed like a terrible waste.
However, telling Niki or the other villagers about this was out of the question. As Selerepta had warned, it was a dangerous secret to hold. Even though I had established a connection with Count Polko Fatma, I wasn't entirely sure it was wise to tell him either.
"..."
I didn't think the Count was a bad person. Despite having spent less than a day with him, our meals and conversations convinced me that he was a genuine, friendly man who was well-loved by his subjects. The respect the villagers showed him didn't seem like a performance.
But perhaps that was exactly why I felt uneasy.
"Is it possible the Lord is militarily weak, or perhaps in a vulnerable position regarding noble politics?"
I thought back to the Goblins I had seen when Niki ran away. I had heard that those were occasionally sent into the Fatma Territory by neighboring nobles as a form of harassment.
I didn't know how much of that was mere rumor, but I had seen the Goblins with my own eyes, and cages indicating human involvement had supposedly been found. The fact that this was a "common occurrence" was deeply strange. Even if they were only a few weak Goblins, they were still monsters. People could get hurt. If Niki hadn't had his secret base to hide in that day, he would have been in serious trouble.
Why was such a situation being tolerated?
If the Lord were the type to not care about his people, I could understand the neglect. But such a man wouldn't be beloved by his citizenry. Based on what I had seen, he wasn't that kind of person.
If so, it wasn't that he was ignoring the problem, but rather that he couldn't solve it.
I had heard that the Fatma Territory was so vast that it was impossible to respond to every sporadic instance of harassment. Furthermore, until the new roads were built, the land was so impoverished that people sometimes starved to death.
To protect a territory from monsters or malicious neighbors, you need soldiers. To maintain soldiers, you need food. No amount of "willpower" or "motivation" can change that fundamental reality.
In a land where villagers were starving, how much surplus food could there possibly be to feed an army? Even if they maintained a minimal defense force, the fact that people were starving meant there simply wasn't enough to go around. Increasing the military would only increase the burden on the people. They were likely forced to manage with a skeleton crew.
One possibility was that he simply lacked the military strength.
If that were the case, he could have asked neighboring lords for help. Of course, that would require compensation, and since a noble's duty is to protect his land, it might be seen as a temporary disgrace. But in terms of prestige, was asking for help really any worse than being unable to stop petty harassment?
That led me to another thought: perhaps his relationships with his neighbors were so poor that he couldn't ask for help even if he wanted to.
The rumors named the neighboring lord as the culprit. If the commoners knew about the friction between the Count and his neighbors, the political situation was likely quite dire.
"This is all assuming the Lord's position is weak and his relationships are strained, but..."
Thinking about this brought back a memory from my student days in Japan. The situation was similar, though I had no concrete proof that the logic applied here.
It happened shortly after I entered middle school. I witnessed a classic case of bullying—the kind you would find in almost any school. I stepped in to help a boy who was being beaten and asked him what had happened.
It turned out the boy and his attacker were from the same elementary school. He had been bullied for years and decided that starting middle school was his chance to change. He began attending a karate dojo a month prior, and on that day, he had stood up and declared his training to his bully. The result was a beating far worse than anything he had suffered before.
To me, it was a tragic example of an honest mistake. I understood his desire to change and his effort to train himself, but telling the bully was a fatal error.
Reporting to a teacher doesn't always work, but if you're going to use force to resist, you have to actually possess that force first. Until you have sufficient strength, you must never let your opponent suspect you are preparing. Bragging about half-baked training only alerts the enemy, incites their hostility, and tells them exactly how to hurt you before you're ready.
If someone in a weak position declares they are going to rebel, the person in the strong position isn't going to sit back and wait for them to get stronger. They will strike harder and faster to crush the rebellion in its infancy.
"...Could the Lord be in the same situation?"
Count Polko was trying to improve his territory. He had recruited technicians to start rice cultivation and was personally studying sumo and physical training methods suited for Pig-kin. He was clearly trying to change the status quo.
Perhaps it wasn't that he "couldn't" deal with the harassment, but rather that he was "playing weak" to avoid further escalation while he quietly built up his strength?
If that were the case, introducing a massive source of wealth like pearls or nacre would be a disaster. It would be a literal bomb. As Selerepta said, such a treasure is a death sentence for those without the power to protect it.
"In that case, I definitely shouldn't tell the Count yet. But the resource is still there, and there's no guarantee someone else won't notice eventually."
Wait, Selerepta had also mentioned something else.
"Especially in the Reefaul Kingdom where you are, it's a gemstone that can't be harvested yet."
Given his personality, the god likely said exactly what was on his mind. There was no reason for him to lie about the pearls. If he said "yet," it implied that—
"Oh?"
The sound of footsteps reached my ears.
It was time to get moving. I set my deductions aside for the moment. Starting today, I was going to be busy again, even if only for a short while.