Conquering OtherWorld Starts With a Game

Chapter 92.2: Weisshem Marketplace

After some hesitation and deliberation, this group decided to approach and assess the situation. It was broad daylight, and there were so many people at the town gate. If there really was someone taking their things without paying, wouldn't all the people scatter? And with so many people, couldn't the transgressor be detained?

This group nervously covered the last hundred meters and pushed their way through the layers of the crowd. Before they could inquire about the situation, they heard a deep, somewhat impatient male voice from within, "16 kilograms of cabbage, one copper coin per pound. Isn't that 32 copper coins? Three 10 copper coins and two 1 copper coins, can't you count?"

"Plus this 5.5 kilogram pumpkin, that's 36 copper coins!"

"Since when are 2 kilograms of pumpkin one copper coin? I can get 3 kilograms for that as well! Don't complicate things. If you aren't happy, take your produce to the market yourself. We won't accept it here!"

"Enough green peppers! No more green peppers!"

"Take the tomatoes over there to be weighed!"

"We don't need any more vegetables! We have enough!"

This loud male voice sounded extremely rude as if he wanted to hit someone… but the farmers that just arrived let out a sigh of relief.

Some bosses in the town would occasionally purchase produce at the town gate, and farmers did prefer selling to these well-off buyers. Despite their discourteous and rough manners, they didn't nitpick, paid promptly, and didn't haggle over a few leaves of vegetables like some of the townsfolk did.

Farmers who brought other varieties of produce joined the crowd at the town gate. Some smarter ones even squeezed through the crowd despite the people around them complaining.

The thin farmer carrying a basket of mountain goods worked his way through, much to the annoyance of the others. But when he reached the front, he was bewildered.

The bulk purchase bosses weren't blocking the gate; they were conducting their transactions at one side of the town gate, leaving a large open space.

The farm folk from miles around crowding around the town gate were unwilling to enter via this open space. The reason being that in the midst of these bulk purchasers were actual skeletons that were moving about in sunlight!

These weren't the sort of lifeless skeletons occasionally uncovered when a grave was eroded by heavy rain but actual living skeletons that moved and jumped about just like humans.

The skinny farmer, who had managed to squeeze his way to the front, witnessed two of these skeletons actively loading a batch of radishes sold by a vegetable farmer onto a tricycle cart parked nearby.

He stood there, mouth agape, staring in shock and amazement at this eerie scene. It took him quite a while to snap out of it, and he gulped hard.

He was in a peculiar state now, torn between the desire to turn tail and run home and the curiosity to stray and witness this strange sight…

Collecting produce directly at the town gate was indeed more efficient than slowly wandering the marketplace, and in half an hour, Mia and Ben had loaded their five tricycle carts full of vegetables.

"These should be enough for today," Ben told Mia.

Mia, responsible for payments, wiped her brow and replied, "Alright, let's call it a day. We can go check the market."

Then, she waved toward the farm folk crowding the town gate and said, "We have enough vegetables for today, so we'll come again tomorrow. Everyone, please feel free to enter the city and don't obstruct the gate."

Were it in the past, Mia might have taken quite some time to explain that the Taranthan undead were friendly and wouldn't harm the farm folk. But now, she had the task assigned by Rex to focus on and couldn't afford to waste time. She waved to the farm folk and, along with Ben and the helpful undead, made her way back.

The procurement team turned into an alley and headed toward the market in the west of town, eventually disappearing from view. It was only after they were far out of sight that the intrigued farmers and farmwives crowding at the town gate collectively buzzed with conversation.

Many of them were planning to enter the town and sell their produce the next day. They couldn't understand when Weisshem had changed to the extent that even undead, which were the stuff of legends, were appearing! And these undead were mingling with humans and even buying their vegetables!

The skinny farmer, who squeezed his way to the front and managed to sell most of his inventory to the tricycle procurement team, returned to his fellow villages at the back, exclaiming with a mix of astonishment and delight, "You guys have no idea how frightening those clothed and armored skeletons are. I thought I was going to wet my pants when they got close! They can even talk, though I couldn't understand a word. It's all some weird sounds!"

"Did they really pay you?" a fellow village asked curiously.

"Yes." The skinny farmer proudly displayed the copper coins he had just received. "Look, I got these for the wild plums I picked in the morning."

Seeing the money, his fellow villagers couldn't help but envy him.

"Those wild plums were actually exchanged for so much? These people are really generous."

"I should have squeezed to the front too. My family grew these eggplants so well; perhaps they would've bought them too."

"Is it true that they are coming back tomorrow?"

Farm folk discussed animatedly and speculated if this was a one-time occurrence. Most who had initially only planned to watch before quickly returning home now changed their minds and began moving in groups toward the market on the western side of town.

The sight of the undead strolling around the town was undeniably frightening. But as long as these undead didn't harm the living and were willing to pay for the goods, the visiting farm folk began to accept their presence.

After all, they still needed to sell their produce, and essentials in their homes needed replenishing; having a few meals without oil was doable, but an empty salt box was a different story.

For the lower-class townsfolk and villagers from the countryside, there was nothing more challenging than staying alive.

The skinny farmer and his fellow villagers reached the marketplace and noticed that it was quieter than usual. Only the small shops that depended on daily business for their livelihood were open, while the large bread shops, clothing stores, and grain shops with haughty employees were all closed.

It wasn't just fewer open shops; the traffic in the marketplace was much lower than usual… Many of the townspeople that usually rushed to buy fresh vegetables early were conspicuously absent.

This bleak scene brought anxiety to the farm folk who were accustomed to the bustling market days. Those who had already sold their vegetables had stuff to buy, while those with unsold produce were eager to make a sale. With so few people around, could business still be conducted?

Even more startling was that farmers witnessed the same bunch, who had been bulk-purchasing their vegetables earlier, tear down the door of a grain store.

The scattered farm folk instinctively banded together, huddling close like they had at the town gate.

Once the store's door was broken down, from a distance of several dozen meters, the huddled farmers heard miserable wails coming from within…

Those with keen eyes even saw someone climbing out of the grain store's window, screaming frantically while fleeing down the alley…

The farmers clung together even more tightly as the strange and unsettling sight unfolded in their widened eyes.

Then, the terrifying undead entered and brought the elderly couple owners of the store who hadn't managed to escape. In front of them, the undead placed a scale, weighed sacks of flour, and paid for them immediately before loading the purchases onto tricycles…

This eerie group of procurers took away more than 100 kilograms of flour before moving on to the next store, leaving a small bag of coins in the hands of the stunned store owner couple.

When Hal and his two comrades arrived at the marketplace with their four tricycles, the procurement team had just left. The normally lively market had recovered about forty percent of its usual vigor. While it wasn't even half as bustling as usual, with many vendors and townspeople staying away, at least it wasn't as desolate as the other parts of the town.

After finding a relatively dry and less littered spot to park, Jerome, the youngest and least experienced of the three former bandits, took the initiative to take a waterproof canopy sheet from the cart and spread it open on the street side. Then, he quickly unloaded the goods from the tricycle carts, sorting and displaying them.

Rex, who had an understanding of the sort of good that could attract folk in the lower rungs of society, had arranged the first batch of products for the retail team: two carts worth of fabrics; a cart of miscellaneous plastic products like cups, bowls, buttons, and rain boots; and a cart of towels and sewing kits.

The real showstopper here were the rolls and rolls of curtain fabric—printed with an array of dazzling patterns, made from tightly woven threads, and stunningly vibrant (a perfect match for rural aesthetics). These were surplus stock that had been sitting in the factory for over five years on average.

Upon seeing these fabrics and towels, the town residents, farmers, shop owners, and employees were utterly mesmerized. It didn't matter who; they were all captivated by these products.

In the Navalon continent, the leading textile industry giant was the Kenyan Empire. Nearly a third of the continent's urban population had textiles from the Kenyan Empire in their homes. But what about the other seventy percent of urban residents and the even larger rural population? Why didn't they use these textiles?

The reason was simple: they couldn't afford them.

Due to the abysmal road infrastructure, the exorbitant cost of land-based transport that was five times higher than sea trade meant that prices of even simple printed shirts from the Kenyan Empire would be unaffordable when they reached the inland nations. A shirt that the common people in the Kenyan Empire could easily purchase would be sold in the inland regions for at least ten times the price.

Even in Indahl, only the wealthier residents could afford such finely woven fabrics with bright, intricate patterns, let alone Weisshem. The vast majority of people could only afford plain, rough linen clothing.

Hal and Tuttle, who hailed from well-to-do backgrounds, weren't in any mood to lend a helping hand. They stood on the spot, concerned about how Yang might settle the debt if they were to run away or if anything were to happen… If the goods were looted or there were discrepancies in the accounts, that scoundrel Yang would undoubtedly lay the blame on their shoulders.

Jerome, who was sweating profusely from hard work, had no hope of them helping. When he finished displaying the merchandise and saw that no customers were approaching, he could only follow Rex's instructions and shout, "The new lord brings to Weisshem exclusive new merchandise! Everyday essentials at unbelievably low prices! Brand new printed fabric, only ten copper coins per meter—"

Before Jerome even finished the sales pitch according to Rex's instructions, he felt his world momentarily blurring.

A woman, who had previously been purchasing vegetables across the street, seemed to move at a speed far exceeding that of an ordinary person and suddenly appeared right in front of their spot in a flash.

"H-how much is it?" This woman, who had the appearance of an ordinary housewife holding a basket of vegetables, stared fervently at Jerome. "Sir, what did you say the price for one meter of this fabric was? Can you please repeat it again?"

Jerome, who was often overlooked as an instructor NPC, sported a large beard to make himself seem older and to avoid being underestimated. He, too, came from a humble background.

Even though he had been instructed by Yang to act as a knight instructor, Jerome wasn't a true knight—before being cast out and ending up on the streets, he had merely been a squire, and that was a more flattering term. In truth, he had just been a knight's servant, responsible for tending to the needs of his master. When the knight went into battle, Jerome helped with the armor and weapons, and if the knight faced defeat in battle, it was Jerome's duty to guard the retreat.

Typically, a knight would have multiple squires, and not all of them would become full-fledged knights. If a squire grew older and more experienced and the knight didn't want additional future competition, the squire might be dismissed, and a more obedient, younger boy would be taken on.

In other words, Jerome knew the hardships of life and was well aware of what these unbelievably cheap and astonishingly high-quality goods meant for an average person.

"Ten copper coins per meter, madam," Jerome slowed his words and explained patiently. "The single-sided prints are thicker, while the double-sided prints are thinner, and both are priced at ten copper coins per meter."