After inspecting each of the black boars, Glenn turned to Tia and said,

  “Wait here for me a moment. I’ll be right back.”

  Before the girl could even respond, he vanished into the forest like a gust of wind.

  The woods soon fell silent, save for the soft grunts of the pigs.

  A chill crept down Tia’s back; she edged closer to the pen for comfort.

  It wasn’t long before Glenn reappeared—this time with a creature slung over his shoulder that looked somewhat like a roe deer.

  Unlike the ones from his previous life, however, this beast was much larger—nearly the size of a domestic pig—and bore a small conical horn on its brow.

  “Mr. Glenn, what is that?” Tia asked curiously.

  To her surprise, Glenn shook his head. “I’ve no idea. I just call it Sha Paozi.”

  The strange syllables, pronounced in Chinese, rolled awkwardly off her tongue.

  “Sha Paozi? What a peculiar name. Why not give it something easier to say?”

  “Then why don’t you name it?” Glenn replied, already beginning to process the animal.

  He had promised Old Cat some meat yesterday—and he intended to keep his word.

  Tia rested her chin on her hand, thinking hard, but after a long while she sighed. “Forget it. I can’t come up with anything good.”

  They chatted idly as Glenn worked with practiced ease, soon finishing the butchering. He loaded the carcass onto the cart, whistled for the stag, and gestured for Tia to hop on and find herself a seat.

  The young maid eagerly clambered aboard, her movements a little clumsy, which made Glenn chuckle despite himself.

  “Are you settled?” he asked.

  Tia nodded earnestly.

  With a flick of the reins, the stag’s hooves began to clatter rhythmically against the ground, pulling the cart forward with increasing speed.

  Meanwhile, elsewhere in the forest, Rawell was grumbling under his breath as he harvested piggrass.

  He carried a woven pack Glenn had made for him, already filled to the brim.

  Though he had come to accept his fate as a laborer, it didn’t stop him from complaining inwardly.

  After a while, he glanced toward the big dog napping nearby and decided to sneak in a break.

  Even those who worked for pay loved to slack off now and then—and since Rawell wasn’t earning a single coin, he saw no reason not to. As long as the job got done before sundown, who cared?

  He set the basket down and began rummaging through the underbrush, occasionally flipping over a stone or two.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Soon, he caught two large black beetles, each about the size of his palm, with menacing pincers of differing shapes.

  When placed together, the beetles immediately began to fight—something Rawell had recently discovered and found endlessly amusing.

  To him, it was far more entertaining than all the noble games he’d once played with his peers.

  His fine noble clothes, already worn for five days straight before coming here, were now filthy and torn in several places from wandering through the woods.

  At his own estate, there would have been maids to wash and replace them. But here, there was only Tia—and though she would gladly help, she hadn’t brought any spare clothing for him.

  In the end, Rawell simply stopped caring. It had been uncomfortable at first, but now he was used to it.

  …

  “By the way,” Glenn said suddenly from the driver’s seat, breaking Tia’s reverie as she admired the passing scenery. “Remember to buy Rawell a set of clothes later. He’s starting to smell. I can catch a whiff of him from ten paces away.”

  “Yes, Mr. Glenn,” Tia answered obediently. Then, hesitating, she asked, “Should I use… my two silver coins?”

  “Of course. A simple commoner’s outfit will do—it won’t cost much.”

  “Alright,” she murmured, looking down.

  Glenn continued steering, and soon the cart rolled into Dudd Town.

  Tia’s brief disappointment was quickly replaced by excitement. The buildings, the stalls, the bustling townsfolk—all of it filled her with wonder.

  When they passed a bakery, her gaze was instantly drawn to the shelves of golden bread inside.

  Glenn noticed and smiled faintly. “If you want some, go buy it yourself.”

  He understood that look all too well—it reminded him of his own childhood in his previous life, when a simple trip to the city with his parents felt like entering another world.

  “Wouldn’t that delay you?” Tia asked, one foot already poised to step off the cart.

  “It’s fine. I can wait. Just don’t waste any.”

  With his permission, Tia’s face lit up. She hopped down and dashed toward the shop, her ponytail swaying behind her.

  Before long, she returned clutching a paper bag brimming with various breads.

  She handed it to Glenn to hold while she climbed back up, then took it again and asked cheerfully, “Would you like some, Mr. Glenn?”

  “I’ve tried them all before,” he replied with a shake of his head, keeping his eyes on the road.

  Tia didn’t think much of it. She tore off a piece of dark-yellow bread and popped it into her mouth.

  After a few chews, her bright expression dimmed slightly—the flavor wasn’t quite what she’d imagined.

  It would taste so much better with one of Mr. Glenn’s dishes, she thought wistfully, then tried another kind of bread, only to be disappointed again.

  By the time they reached the tavern Glenn had purchased the day before, it was already deserted and locked.

  He parked the cart and turned to see Tia still holding a bag that looked nearly untouched.

  “Already full?” he asked.

  Tia blushed and shook her head. “I just thought it’d be better to eat later.”

  “Oh?” Glenn smiled. “Suit yourself—it’s yours, after all.”

  He told her to wander around as she pleased while he unlocked the tavern door with the key the seller had given him.

  Inside, he moved out some clutter and quickly set up a small stall in front of the building, laying the “Sha Paozi” meat neatly upon the counter.

  Tia didn’t leave; instead, she busied herself helping him, working diligently despite her small frame and limited strength.

  When everything was ready, Glenn began calling out loudly to attract customers. Tia watched, wide-eyed, astonished by how effective his booming voice was.

  People began gathering almost immediately—some were returning customers, others new faces.

  “Mr. Glenn, is the price still the same as before?” one man asked.

  “The same,” Glenn replied.

  “Good! I’ll take twenty bellas!”

  “No problem.”

  With swift precision, Glenn sliced off exactly twenty bellas’ worth of meat and weighed it—it was perfectly accurate.

  His muscle memory was so sharp that he could probably cut the right amount without a scale, though few customers would ever believe it.

  Then someone asked curiously, “What kind of meat is this? It’s not boar this time, is it?”

  “Don’t worry—it’s edible.”

  He had tested a small piece earlier, roasted it, and found the flavor surprisingly good.

  Hearing his assurance, the hesitant buyers made up their minds.

  The town’s meat prices had already returned to what they were before Glenn began selling, so people knew they wouldn’t get such fresh, affordable cuts again anytime soon.

  As Tia watched the growing pile of gleaming copper and silver coins in Glenn’s hands, her eyes widened in disbelief.

  So making money… is this easy? she thought, utterly astonished.