Chapter 141, Costumes and Advice

Translator: Barnnn

 

When they emerged from the Dungeon and returned to the surface, the calendar had already turned to March. The wind still gusted from time to time, but it no longer carried winter’s knife-edge chill.

Ize, pausing at the entrance to the manor’s main building, smoothed her wind-tossed hair with her fingers. She straightened the ribbon at her waist, which had shifted slightly as she walked, then followed the maid who had gone in ahead of her.

The room she entered was furnished more heavily than the reception room, and at its center stood an unfamiliar man dressed in a servant’s livery.

 

“Um… and you are?” she asked.

“You can tell just by looking,” came the gravelly reply.

“Ah! I DO know that raspy voice!”

“Dammit, Ize…”

“Fieda,” Loudipa chided, seated on the sofa and sipping tea with a serene smile. “That outfit and that tone don’t match. Why not take a few lessons from the butlers here?”

 

Fieda, the center of attention today, tugged uncomfortably at the close-fitting collar at his throat, as if it were choking him. Then he lifted a hand to run through his hair — hair that had been thoroughly subdued with pomade.

 

“Ah! Fieda, don’t you dare mess up your hair,” came a voice from deeper in the room.

 

Ize turned to see Hal emerging from an adjoining chamber. His own hair had been only lightly trimmed at the ends, just enough to present a neater image as a visiting noble in Sooryab.

 

“Hal… and what exactly are YOU wearing?” she asked.

He ignored the question. “Hey, Ize. That outfit suits you. Really gives you this cool, refined-lady vibe. Maybe you’d even pull the laugh off — you know, the villainous lady laugh.”

“That’s… quite the sudden request,” she said, but she didn’t refuse. “Let’s see here…”

 

Ize planted her feet a little wider than shoulder-width, set her left hand on her hip, and raised her right fingertips to rest lightly beneath her left cheek. Perfect posture.

Then she tilted her chin and declaimed in her best imperious tone:

 

“Don’t you dare think you can oppose me! OHOHOHO–” She broke into a cough. “Khh…! Gah!”

“Pfft! Choked on it, did you?” Hal grinned.

“It’s surprisingly hard on the throat. Want to try?”

“I’ll pass.”

“Coward. Anyway, I see you’ve been given a nobleman’s outfit too.”

 

She studied him openly. The cut was less medieval than the classical three-piece a certain famous detective might wear. All he needed was a silk top hat and a cane.

 

“It’s suffocating,” Hal muttered.

“Mine’s no better,” Fieda added. “I can barely move my arms.”

“Wow! You have the same voice as Fieda, the leader of our party, sir!” Ize teased.

“You’re still doing that bit?”

“C’mon, let me have my fun. It’s so uncomfortable I feel like I should close my eyes just to speak…”

 

Fieda’s normally unruly hair was now neatly arranged, and the servant’s attire strained against his broad shoulders and arms.

His imposing build was likely what made him have difficulties moving.

 

“You know, a soldier’s uniform would suit you better,” Ize observed.

“They should’ve started with that,” Fieda said.

“But if you’re going to stay close to us, a servant’s livery makes more sense,” Loudipa offered. “If we switch you to a soldier’s uniform, I’ll have it made in a style different from our own household’s.”

 

Neither Ize nor Hal had much grasp of the nuances between nobles and their staff, so they simply nodded along.

If it meant Fieda could move more easily, though, that was reason enough.

 

“Speaking of clothes… Ize and Hal, what you had weren’t bad, so to speak,” Loudipa went on, “but they were a bit outdated… and a little too young for your age.”

“Didn’t notice that,” Hal admitted.

“We chose purely by size,” Ize added.

“I thought as much. For traveling, I’ve prepared outfits you can manage on your own.”

“Thank you,” said Ize.

“Much appreciated,” Hal echoed with a nod.

 

To make their guise as noble mages more convincing, Loudipa had arranged several changes of nobles’ travel wear for them. Ize and Hal found them a little restrictive, but not unworkable.

The real problem was Fieda. He had never worn such fine cloth, with subtle embroidery at the cuffs and painstakingly carved buttons. It looked as though a careless movement might tear it, and he had hardly taken a step since entering the room.

 

“If I never have to wear this again, that’d be for the best,” he muttered.

“But you look great in it. Oh… wait! Let’s take a picture!” Hal said.

“Good idea. It’s like cosplay,” Ize agreed.

 

Hal pulled out his tablet and began snapping away from every angle. Embroidered hems, the knot of his cravat, even the stitching on the back.

 

“Try sitting on the sofa,” Hal suggested.

“You sure these tight pants won’t tear if I sit?” Fieda asked.

“Uh…” Ize winced. “You know what, Hal and I will sit, and you can stand behind us.”

“Works for me.”

 

Hal tapped Loudipa on the shoulder, shooing him off the sofa, then cleared away the tea service to a cart in the corner.

 

“You’re always so rough with me, Hal,” Loudipa said mildly. “And after all I do for you.”

“Don’t get creepy, man. Speak honestly for once, and I might treat you better.”

“I’m always honest,” Loudipa protested.

“Sure you are,” Hal said dryly.

 

With a snort, he propped the tablet on the table and adjusted the cover as a stand.

Ize didn’t follow the thread of their bickering, but she obediently perched on the sofa’s edge while Fieda stood behind her.

 

“All right, I’ll set the timer to five seconds,” Hal announced.

“Oh, this thin board… It’s like peering through glass,” Loudipa marveled, lightly tapping the screen.

“Hey, don’t touch–! Ugh, now we have to do it again.”

 

Thanks to Loudipa’s curiosity-filled interference, it took several tries, but at last the tablet took some properly-focused photos, preserving the trio’s occasion.

The moment the photos were checked, Fieda declared himself done with the costume and retreated to change.

 

“So… are you ready to depart?” Loudipa asked.

“Hiro and Take seem to be doing fine, so… maybe we’ll be good to go in less than two weeks?” Hal said.

“We’ve stocked up on curry from more than ten shops, got plenty of naan made… oh, but I’d like some of the salad from this manor, too,” Ize added.

“I’ll have the chef prepare it.” Loudipa nodded. “By the way, why did a thank-you letter come from the Merchants’ Guild?”

 

Hal shifted uncomfortably; he hadn’t expected word to travel as far as the Lord’s ears.

 

“Ah… maybe it’s about the curry tasting tickets?”

Loudipa arched an eyebrow. “Tasting tickets?”

“Yeah. For a little while, they had a promotional campaign where bundles of meal vouchers — one ticket per bowl of curry — went for slightly cheaper than when bought from the regular vendors. They had three different sets, depending on which district’s shops they covered.”

“I see the benefit for customers, but what about the shops?”

“Each ticket is printed with a specific shop’s name. People who buy them have to go to that shop to use them. The shop gets new customers, and if those customers order other food while they’re there, that’s even better.”

 

It wasn’t quite the same as the ticket order systems in Japan, but the aim was the same: make it feel like a win-win for both customer and vendor.

 

“Interesting,” Loudipa mused. “And when did you find time to make connections with the Merchants’ Guild?”

 

His question was perfectly reasonable; he knew of Ize and Hal’s connections to the Adventurers’ Guild and the Crafters’ Guild, but the Merchants’ Guild was news to him.

 

“Oh, that’s through the orphanages,” Ize said.

The unexpected link made Loudipa turn to her. “The orphanages?”

“With there being so many curry places around town, we started by gathering word-of-mouth recommendations…”

“Word-of-mouth?”

“Um, like, the impressions of people who’ve actually been there?”

“I see. Sorry for interrupting. Go on.”

“Well, we started visiting curry shops that came highly recommended, and it was fun noticing how different the flavors were. Hal mentioned that to one of the orphanage staff, and that’s how things started…”

 

When Hal’s name came up, Loudipa’s eyes shifted to him.

Hal, looking as if he’d rather not be dragged back into the topic, took over the explanation.

 

“One of the staff told me that during the Deluge, there were food stalls set up all over town.”

“Oh, right. I remember a lot of curry stalls in particular.”

“They said there was one curry they especially liked, but they didn’t know which shop it came from. So I figured… if we asked the Merchants’ Guild, who had managed the food stalls at the time, they might have records.”

“That makes sense. We did rely on them to coordinate stall locations based on the districts’ sizes and number of shops. So that’s where the Guild comes in.”

 

Loudipa nodded thoughtfully, then looked at Hal to prompt him to go on.

 

“Well, I was planning to use our donation certificates and proof of our stay at the Lord’s manor as leverage to get the information, but instead I caught a bigger fish than expected.”

“You dragged them out, more like,” Fieda said right as he returned from changing his clothes.

“Yeah, that was half a threat, really,” Ize admitted.

“All I did was offer a little advice!” Hal protested. “Like, a little reminder to be mindful of how they treat customers!”

“I’m not sure bringing Japanese hospitality standards to another world is reasonable,” Ize said mildly.

“Guh!”

 

Hal’s counterargument collapsed instantly under Ize’s calm logic. He slumped like a boxer who’d burnt his fighting spirit until only white ashes remained.

Since the conversation was stalling, Loudipa turned to Fieda.

In response, Fieda sat heavily on the sofa, drained his now-cold tea in one gulp, and continued the story without a hint of concern.

 

“So, Hal put this big shot in their place and made this shady-sounding proposal: ‘Why not make it easy for citizens to compare curry shops?’ And that led to the creation of the curry tasting tickets.”

“It wasn’t shady!” Hal protested. “All I suggested was creating opportunities for people to travel a bit, have a good meal, and enjoy themselves.”

“Is that really how you said it?” Ize asked.

“I remember it being a lot more drawn-out,” Fieda said.

“Drawn-out? Really…?” Hal muttered.

 

He slumped again, utterly defeated, only for Loudipa’s bright voice to strike like a final blow.

 

“So, in other words, you helped stimulate the city’s economy. Thank you, Hal!”

“It was absolutely not for your sake!”

“That sounded like a tsundere line,” Ize said. “You should blush a little to complete the effect.”

“Ize, shut it!”

 

Ize mimed zipping her lips, though her crescent-shaped eyes said otherwise.

Hal buried his head in his hands and drew in a long breath to steady himself.

 

“…We’re leaving the city soon, so handle the details with the Merchants’ Guild yourself. All I’ll say is three things.” He raised three fingers. “Scarcity. Fairness. Stabilization. That’s it.”

 

As he lowered his hand, Ize stared at him blankly, while Fieda, having given up on following the discussion, began nibbling at the sweets on the table.

 

“I have no idea what that means. Do you, Lord Loudipa?” Ize asked.

“More or less,” Loudipa replied. “Scarcity probably means making it a limited-time deal. That draws more interest from townsfolk and makes it easier to track the effect. Fairness means not limiting it to one type of shop; after curry, it could be toy stores and the like. Stabilization… hmm. Maybe balancing income?”

 

The lord of Speraniessa, home to a Rank 1 Dungeon, spoke of economics with practiced ease. Hal grimaced at his accuracy on the first two points, then added to the last.

 

“Doing this type of promotional campaign during a busy season is pointless. You want to target slower times, when shops can handle more customers without strain, and avoid a drop in revenue.”

 

Snorting lightly, Hal popped a sweet into his mouth, determined not to let Fieda win in the eating department. Despite the sugar, his expression stayed bitter.

 

“Hal, you’re–” Loudipa began.

“Don’t say it.”

“Why not? I’m not about to scold you.”

“I know what you’re going to say. And you’re the last person I want to hear it from.”

“…All right. But thank you. We’ll take it from here.”

 

Hal gave a short nod and washed down the last of the sweetness in his mouth with tea.

Watching from the side, Ize knew exactly what Loudipa had wanted to say — because she felt the same after hearing him.

 

Hal, for once, looked worthy of being called a Sage.