Conquering OtherWorld Starts With a Game

Chapter 100.1: Weisshem Has Changed

In the continent of Navalon, there were two standards used to distinguish the "upper class" in big cities from the "lower class" in towns and villages. The first was whether they had electricity and gas supply, while the second was the presence of a landline.

Electric lights illuminating their homes, gas for heating and cooking, and being able to provide the household's telephone number on top of a home address when asked for contact information were the standard portrayal of the big city middle class in Navalon.

One might ask why there's a classification of big city middle class?

Because towns like Camore in the Duchy of Shiga or Weisshem of the Rhine Kingdom, even if they were close to big cities and certain areas could have access to electricity, would find it impossible to install gas pipes and telephone lines—the construction and maintenance were simply too high, and gas and telecom companies couldn't afford this sort of loss-making business.

In large cities like Indahl, only a few blocks enjoyed the privilege of having electricity and gas supply, and one could only hear the ring of a telephone in the affluent areas.

For the vast majority of Indahl citizens that needed to contact their families when away from home, their only options would be letters and telegrams, though the latter was only possible if there was a telegraph office in the area.

Weisshem, however, had no telegraph office. While some streets in Weisshem had access to electricity, telegraph companies didn't think that revenue generated from a local telegraph office would be enough to justify the investment required for returns. The income from the local post office could barely sustain the postmaster and three mailmen, and there was little surplus to send back to the headquarters.

Yet, over the past week or so, the Weisshem post office had been relatively busy as large amounts of letters went back and forth between Weisshem and Indahl, on top of a significant amount of stamps being sold.

On this particular morning, in the dim light of dawn, 23-year-old mailman Bosha Laurie put on his windproof cloak and headed for the post office.

In this world, the postal industry wasn't state-run, but rather, it was privately managed by influential nobles, much like how electricity, gas, and telephone lines in each country were private, profit-driven entities. Post offices established in various regions were akin to chain stores, with the postmaster serving as the store manager and the mailmen as employees. They had no direct dealings with the local government, and even the mayor had to pay for postage like everyone else.

As Bosha Laurie entered the post office located on the southern end of Martin Street, the postmaster and two other senior employees were already present.

After brief pleasantries, the postmaster began to assign tasks to the three mailmen, "Laurie, today, you'll be heading into the city. Matt and Ban, you will deliver mail to the countryside."

"Hey, brother!" Matt raised his arms up in protest after hearing the arrangement. "Why is it Laurie going to the city again? When is it my turn?"

The postmaster glared at Matt in annoyance. "I'll let you go the day you are able to return on time like everyone else."

Matt wanted to grumble but ultimately chose to keep silent.

The post office had one horse-drawn carriage and three bicycles. Typically, they used bicycles to deliver letters within the town and the surrounding villages. The carriage would only be used when going to Indahl, which happened once every week or two.

No one particularly enjoyed delivering mail to the countryside. When the post office collected sufficient mail and packages, all three mailmen looked forward to driving the carriage to Indahl themselves. This meant they could claim two days of meal subsidies and a chance to explore the city of Indahl.

Bosha refrained from showing his satisfaction as Matt's envious gaze was on him. After leaving the office and heading to the nearby rental agency to fetch the carriage, he clenched his fist in excitement.

When the post office didn't need the carriage, they would leave the horses along with the carriage at the rental agency, creating an additional source of revenue.

With the assistance of his two senior employees, Bosha loaded the cart with letters and packages. He sat in the driver's seat, ready to depart. Seizing an opportune moment when Matt, still grumbling, wasn't paying attention, Ban gave Bosha a playful wink.

Bosha didn't say anything, but he gave a slight nod before he shook the reins to set off.

Next, Bosha first went to Ban's house and received a package wrapped in an old cloth and weighed at least 10 kilograms from Ben's wife. Then, he went back to his house and got his younger brother to take out the cardboard box hidden in his room's closet.

Postage was very expensive. Sending a letter to Indahl cost three copper coins, whereas packages were priced by weight. Including some extra items while heading into the city was a common practice among Weisshem's mailmen. And if there was still space available in the carriage, the duty mailman would also pick up a few paying passengers.

Matt liked going solo and always refused to share profits and benefits with others, so it was no wonder Bosha and Ban decided to team up against him.

The post office's carriage and bicycles provided by the company were very sturdy. The horses provided weren't ordinary horses but one-horned gray horses with monster blood in them. These were hardy horses with lower bodies, shorter legs, and covered by uneven gray fur. They might not be the most beautiful, but they were certainly robust, with more endurance than oxen, and were used for traveling between cities.

As the carriage was pulling out of town, Bosha once more saw those skeletons wandering all over the place. It seemed like they had just returned from outside town; dew still clung to their bones, glistening in the morning sunlight.

These skeletons carried half-filled woven sacks on their backs and casually entered the town gates. As they passed by the cart, they even curiously turned their frightening skeletal faces toward the carriage, making strange "KABAKABA" cries as they came up and closely examined the one-horned gray horse, seemingly in fascination.

"This horse is a Level 1 monster."

"Don't even think about it. It has a green name, so we can't farm it."

Bosha tried his best to keep his eyes forward, not daring to glance back until the cart had finally left Weisshem. Only then did he look behind him.

I wonder how long these skeletons will remain in town… thought Bosha to himself.

While he was happy that the new lord had brought affordable goods, which increased the post office's income (many townsfolk sent fabrics to their relatives in Indahl), he had no intention of letting his children grow up "accompanied" by the skeletons in town.

"Good luck always comes with bad luck," Bosha muttered a Rhine saying to himself as he raised his whip.

The 60-kilometer journey, even with the carriage pulled by the one-horned gray horse, would take over three hours. It was nearly noon by the time Bosha arrived at Indahl.

The post office carriage was painted green, and Bosha, dressed in his standard windproof cloak and the uniform underneath, didn't look anything like city dwellers. The city gate guards merely gave him a cursory glance and waved him through.

Bosha steered the carriage into the city, first heading to the main South Street to hand over Ban's and his "private goods" to the owner of a general goods store. This owner was none other than Ban's brother-in-law, who got his son to discreetly deliver personal letters, packages, and other items to paying customers. He also organized and handed over some stuff that didn't have postage for Bosha to bring back.

Bosha got off the carriage, carrying the thickly wrapped bundle onto the general goods store's counter, and said to the shop owner, "It's not letters this time but some good stuff Ban and I managed to buy in Weisshem. Please display them on the shelves for us."

Ban's brother-in-law, a portly middle-aged man, brightened up upon hearing what Bosha said. "Is it that 'Undead Cloth'?"

Fabrics from Weisshem, which had recently become available in Martin Street thanks to the new lord, had made their way to Indahl and become a topic of discussion among the lower-class city folk.

These fabrics were robust, finely woven, vibrant in color, and intricate in design, and their astonishingly low prices naturally stirred excitement among these people. Were it not for the rumors about the closure of Weisshem's red-light district, the change in lordship, and the talk of undead wandering about in daylight, many small-time merchants would have rushed to Weisshem with money in hand.

Bosha nodded proudly.

Amassing this bundle of fabrics hadn't been an easy task; money from over a dozen family members was pooled together, with them taking turns to stand in line at Martin Street each day. Besides setting aside five meters of cloth for his wife's dress, everything else acquired had been for Bosha to bring to Indahl.

Ban's brother-in-law hastily unwrapped the bundle, and a delighted smile appeared on his face after a single glance at the fabrics. Confidently, he said, "You'll be able to collect the money by the time you are heading back. I guarantee this will be all sold out within the afternoon!"

"I'll have to trouble you, then," Bosha replied, smiling. "And remember, don't sell any of it for less than 20 copper coins per meter."

"Rest assured!" Ban's brother-in-law thumped his chest confidently.

After leaving the general goods store, Bosha steered the carriage to the Indahl post office.

Indahl's post office was notably larger in both architectural scale and staffing compared to Weisshem's. It not only featured a telegraph office but also a spacious courtyard capable of accommodating up to six carriages. The entire Inadahl territory, encompassing over 20 towns, relied on this hub for the transfer of mail and parcels and was naturally a far cry from a small-town post office.