The next morning, I set out to spend the early hours inspecting the waste processing plant and the surrounding factories. As the owner, I needed to ensure that operations were running smoothly, but more importantly, I wanted to check on the slimes I had stationed there. I expected that some of the scavenger slimes left to process the trash yesterday would have individuals ready to divide; I needed to collect those and form new contracts.
When I reached the plant, a bustle of activity met my eyes. Employees were already hauling in loads of refuse, and a familiar face stood by the roadside, watching the progress.
"Good morning, Branch Master Taylor."
"! Oh, Ryoma-kun. Good morning to you."
"What brings you here? It's unusual to see you standing out like this."
"I found myself with some unexpected free time. I thought I’d take a stroll and see how everyone was faring."
"Well, I do have you to thank for introducing me to the drivers," I noted.
While we used manual labor, we also relied on magic beast carriages driven by tamers to efficiently gather waste from across the sprawling city. During the planning stages, Branch Master Taylor had pointed me toward several tamers capable of handling such tasks.
Apparently, the recent dip in public order had coincided with an influx of tamers looking for work at the guild. It had been quite the headache for him.
Gimul was a mining town, so transport jobs for ore and personnel were usually plentiful, but everything had its limits. The market had reached a saturation point because so many outsiders were flowing in.
Most of these people had been lured in by silver-tongued recruiters. They were told things like, "The Jamil Ducal House founded taming magic and uses it extensively in their lands," or "If you can tame a monster, your employment options will skyrocket." These recruits would learn the bare essentials of forming a contract and then be sent off with the promise that the local branch would find them a job.
In reality, they were just workers who had obtained a taming certificate to get a job. They lacked experience and, more importantly, the heart of a true tamer. Being saddled with a horde of such reckless novices must have been a nightmare.
There had been a rise in accidents where tamers treated their monsters poorly, leading the creatures to lash out or go on rampages, often involving not just the tamers themselves but the people around them. Taylor had managed to suppress most of these incidents, keeping injuries to the problematic tamers themselves and preventing a public outcry, but the guild still had to deal with the aftermath.
"I’m not asking for them to have immense pride or passion," he had vented during our last meeting. "But I would at least like them to have the awareness and responsibility required to treat their monsters as a professional obligation."
I felt for him. To avoid the worst-case scenario of these rookies causing damage to city property or civilians, Taylor had sent many of them to the mines, which freed up the reliable, experienced veterans for me to hire.
As we spoke, another carriage passed us, and the coachman offered a cheerful nod. Taylor smiled back.
"I’ve been watching for a while," Taylor remarked, "and I’m surprised. You’re hauling in tons of garbage, yet there’s hardly a scent."
"I made that a priority when building a facility like this in the heart of town."
Even in the former slums, hygiene and odor were paramount. People naturally feel revulsion toward filth and stench. Furthermore, while waste collection is vital, it is often viewed as dirty work, and those who perform it are often looked down upon. I wanted to use every trick in the book to create a clean image for the business.
"First, the carriages themselves are either box-style or covered to keep the contents out of sight and contain the smell," I explained. "The barrels, hemp bags, and cargo beds are all treated with a generous coating of odor absorption fluid from my deodorant slimes. I’ve also mandated matching uniforms for all workers and given them personal hygiene training. They’re all provided with deodorizing sprays—the same ones we sell at Bamboo Forest—to use after their shifts."
"Ah, I remember that report. So that’s how you managed to keep the smell down so well."
The building itself was a simple, rectangular structure. The first floor was a workspace for processing the collected refuse. Carriages entered through a large front door, unloaded their cargo, and then exited through a rear door to continue their routes.
I had placed one-way wind barriers over the doors and windows. These allowed fresh air in but prevented the foul-smelling interior air from escaping. For exhaust, I used wind magic tools to push air through dust-collection and deodorizing filters made of deodorant and filter slimes.
"Magic tools just for the odor control?" Taylor sounded impressed.
"I happened to find a very talented craftsman who was willing to listen to my eccentric requests."
"I see. That’s good. Connections are precious things. Well, I should be on my way. It looks like everyone is busy with meaningful work."
"I'll see you off."
The atmosphere here had brightened considerably with the new plant and dormitories, but it was still the former slums. I worried about the Branch Master walking alone at his age.
"Don't worry," he said, patting his coat. "I didn't become a Branch Master for nothing."
"Kyu?"
A tiny, hamster-like creature poked its head out of his pocket.
"He's cute."
"This is my familiar, Ferneke. He’s a resonance mole. He has an incredible sense of awareness and can communicate with his kin over long distances. If any dangerous characters approach, he’ll alert the comrades waiting back at the guild immediately."
A mole? He looked more like a hamster to me.
"He may look small, but he's dependable. Besides, I have a few tricks up my sleeve for emergencies. I'll be fine as long as I stick to this road you built. You have work to do, don't you? Focus on your duties. Helping the city like this will eventually benefit the guild, too."
The roads around the plant were well-traveled and led to the main thoroughfares. I had slimes monitoring the area as well.
"Understood. Then I'll leave you here. Please be careful."
"You as well. Once things calm down, come by for some tea."
I watched him go and then headed inside.
Workers were using rake-like tools to break up piles of trash and spread them over a floor made of coarse wire mesh. This sifted the waste, breaking it into smaller pieces that fell into the basement where the scavenger slimes waited. Larger items were diverted to a crushing department to be processed and sent back through.
Slimes absorb things most efficiently when the objects are small enough to be fully engulfed. Soft materials are also easier for them than hard ones.
"The work seems to be progressing without issue."
I had Camille and Zeff managing this place, but I couldn't see them. Then, I spotted a familiar face in the corner.
"Is that you, Wist-kun?"
I had reached out to Beck and Gazel when starting this business. Even with the Trash Hag's advice, I wanted people who knew the local slum landscape to guide the new workers. They had both accepted readily.
I hadn't seen Wist in person since we started, but he looked like he had grown a size or two.
"Good morning," I said, approaching quietly.
"Ah, Ryoma-kun. Good morning."
His voice was lower than I remembered.
"It really is you, Wist-kun."
"Y-Yeah. Did you... not recognize me?"
"I did, but you've grown so much I had to look twice."
"I've had a growth spurt lately. I have to buy all new equipment now. Everyone else only needed to make a few adjustments to theirs."
That was a heavy expense, but it was a sign he was becoming a man.
"Do you know where Zeff and Camille are?"
"I think they're in the office upstairs. The Trash Hag came by earlier and... I think she was showing them something."
"Thanks. Sorry to interrupt your work."
I turned to leave, but he called out.
"R-Ryoma-kun!"
"Yes? What is it?"
"U-Um... well..."
He looked unusually flustered. I waited for him to calm down.
"At your shop... you have maids, right? The... beautiful ones."
I saw his red face and understood immediately. He was entering puberty. He probably saw them during the recent recruitment drive.
"I-I was wondering... what her name was."
"Well, there are three of them. Which one?"
"U-Um... she's got a great figure. Very... adult."
He turned even redder. Lilian and Lulunese both had fine figures, but Lulunese was married.
"The... the sturdiest one of the three!"
Sturdy?
"Do you mean Libiola-san?"
"Is that her name? The Greater Monkey-kin maid?"
Ah. Wist was a Greater Monkey-kin too.
Members of that race are naturally large and heavily muscled. Libiola was so built that other races often mistook her for a man. To Wist, her sturdiness was the pinnacle of beauty—a bodybuilder's physique.
I felt a twinge of guilt. I had subconsciously excluded Libiola from the beautiful category because of my own biases.
I told him a few good things about Libiola's character to make up for my internal rudeness before heading upstairs.