Industrial revolution starting with the undead

For seven days, I've been thinking about doing my job and my witchcraft training.

We've got a list of places that should be meat producers, ahead of Marton's village. Thinking about the climate and thinking about what kind of livestock you'd like, it's a path for regular Skeleton Horse flights, and it's hard to find a place with close water.

Well, Fleetberg territory has little difficulty with water sources because the Great River Kaye River is flowing.

"... hmm"

Pin such a meat production site candidate on top of the map.

The other day, I heard about fifty displaced persons had arrived from Mocanate and Andou territories. In particular, Andou territory has also recently heard reports of famine and a large number of starving deaths. So they came to Fleetberg territory in search of a new heaven and earth?

As for this one, if there are more inhabitants, there will be more workers, and that will increase production. In particular, displaced persons with experience in livestock production are valuable. According to Uruge's story, there were several displaced persons who had been involved in horse production, which means that horse production may also be possible in the future.

For one thing, the displaced are asked to live in makeshift housing slightly away from the city of Fulcus, in the form of letting in the pioneering members of the newly created village. Because it makes no sense to put new people in the current countryside poorly and be divided into eight villages.

"... I don't know"

Well, the territory is running well that way. You can say smooth sail.

You think there's finally a carpenter's hand in Marton's village and a house or two already built? At this rate, it should be a fine village in a month - that's what he said.

But the lump in my heart doesn't disappear at all, in conflict with such a smooth territorial operation.

That is, of course, about counterfeit silver coins.

"Is there really a right answer..."

Step by step, it has become a habit to whine so much to myself.

That's how dark ahead it is, it's like a dark problem. No matter how much I think about it, good ideas don't come to me.

Let's sort things out again.

I made fake silver coins. Chris, not me, to be specific, but it's my responsibility because it was built in my mansion.

Gold in the first place is established by the state's recognition of its value. People shop according to the value of the currency established by the state. Money is therefore very difficult to make fake, and what you make in a bad amateur job can be seen at first sight.

I made such fake money, I'm definitely a criminal.

And such counterfeit silver coins have already flowed into the market, and the upper echelons of the country have grasped that fact. I can't erase it now.

Most importantly, silver coins suck.

Gold coins only exist in the store where they were used. The people in the store who used it will flow when doing business with other stores, but their circulation is slow.

But silver coins are different. Silver coins are purely used as change when shopping with gold coins. In other words, its circulation is very fast compared to gold coins.

I just don't know, and if I do it badly, it could even be flowing all over the country.

……

"Turn yourself in," Eleonora said.

In fact, as Eleonora put it, it will undoubtedly be perceived that Chris is in this land - the Art. And it's clear from circumstantial evidence that I let Chris make such fake silver coins.

All must be exposed. Then it would be easier to turn yourself in before then, and sin would be lighter. Still, though it would be overshadowed by a dozen years of imprisonment.

You can't let me leave your territory right now.

"Ha..."

Exhale.

Eleonora was bluffing as if there was a hand in reversal. But no matter how much you think about it, that strategy doesn't come up.

What the hell am I supposed to do? What the hell am I supposed to do?

I've been thinking about it for the last seven days, and the answer hasn't come up at all.

"... hmm?

The door was closed, but I could hear the door knockers chirping.

It feels like it's sounding in a different world somewhere, but it's definitely our home. There shouldn't have been any plans for visitors, but who came?

Well, even if I didn't bother, Ianna would come out during the day.

Once again, I entrust myself to the sea of thought...

"Sir."

"Oh, I thought so, maybe."

"You are a customer"

"I guess."

Ha, and I get up with a small sigh of sigh.

Ianna's out and she's dealing with me is about as pushy as selling. You know, if it's Uruge, the tax collector, or Andrew, the mayor of town, or any of those opponents come to me, they always come to me.

And I guess it's sad, our visitors are mostly those two. Few merchants, however livered, come to push and sell just as far as the house of the lord.

So in the end, I have to move my heavy hips and deal with visitors.

"So, who's here?

"Yes, you don't know."

"A stranger?

"Yes, I've never seen it, but he said he wanted to talk to the lord"

"... well"

"For one thing, I put it through the reception room"

If you don't know, I'd at least like you to wait at the front door.

Well, Ianna put it through the reception room, which would mean that's all that matters. Though I don't know exactly what they think.

For one thing, with Ianna, I knocked lightly on the closest room to the front door - the reception room.

"Go ahead."

I heard it from inside, with such a bell-ringing voice, opening the door.

A beautifully cleaned, red carpet reception room - the figure of a courtier sitting on the couch set up there, perhaps a nobleman of high rank, was there.

Politely, behind it stands two men, who would be soldiers with swords, and an old man wearing a swallow tail suit.

Perhaps he swallowed his spit unintentionally on the circumstantial evidence of an identity that he was not even allowed to go out on his own.

"Excuse me... I heard you were running errands for me"

"Yes. I've missed you, Countess."

"It's Gin Fleetberg. Ianna, make me some tea."

"Yes, sir."

Perhaps Chris is hiding for me in some room.

In the meantime, I tell him to hide himself when he gets a visitor.

"So, to what extent?

"Yes."

The young lady lifted her beautiful, backflushed golden hair.

Kira, look at me with an eye as sharp as a stream.

"I, as a beautiful girl, live in this world, as a beautiful girl, loved as a butterfly, a flower, sing my life as a beautiful girl, I am a beautiful girl."

……

Uh.

I mean, who is it?