Chapter 283

A Certain Immigrant’s Story (2)
At the Gates of the Royal Capital, Alblud

“… They’re back.”

One of the soldiers pointed at them.

“I heard the pay’s good, but… I’d never wanna end up like that.”

“Same here.”

Where the soldier pointed stood a group that could only be described as a horde of ghosts.

Some were on foot, some on horseback, others riding carriages. But all of them radiated a grim, deathly aura—like living corpses.

You could say they were victims of Alicetia.

They were all from various merchant guilds and workshops. Specifically, they were recruiters—people in charge of hiring laborers. Elites, technically speaking.

So why had they become such wretched husks of men? Because of Alicetia’s overly generous funding of the kingdom. Thanks to her, Arland had been able to launch all its long-delayed public works projects at once.

The massive wave of construction projects turned the already tight labor market into a full-blown crisis. Jobs were everywhere, wallets were fat, but there simply weren’t enough people to fill all the roles.

Merchants live to make money. Missing out on a boom like this? For a true merchant, that was unthinkable.

So every company and workshop launched large-scale hiring drives.

Naturally, as competition for workers grew fierce, wages and benefits improved. And that was when Alicetia’s next move took effect.

She gathered all the companies and workshops friendly to her and merged them into one massive entity—the Viceroy Merchant Union, a corporate behemoth operating under the banner of “improving workers’ lives and supporting Arland’s technology.”

Naturally, workers flocked to it. Generous wages, unheard-of social benefits, and Alicetia’s glowing reputation—all combined to pull laborers toward the Union.

To compete, all other merchants had no choice but to improve pay and benefits too. It ate into profits, sure—but revenues were soaring, so no one dared complain.

And behind her serene smile, Alicetia’s unspoken message was clear:

“I’ll help you make money—but improve your workers’ treatment. Otherwise, you’ll collapse from lack of manpower.”

No merchant could argue. They were all profiting from this unprecedented economic boom—this golden age of business.

Still, the labor shortage remained. So merchants and craftsmen appointed dedicated recruitment officers and sent them all over the kingdom.

One merchant gave his subordinate this order:

“Listen. Hire as many as you can! Don’t care if they’re old, missing a limb—everyone’s got a use. Dig through every back alley and find me workers! Don’t come back till you hit the quota!”

A heartless command—but at that time, those men still felt a sense of pride. They were elite employees with fat salaries.

Of course, not every merchant could ride the boom. Some, unable to improve working conditions, lost workers or went bankrupt.

Those failed companies became easy prey. The moment a guild or workshop collapsed, recruiters descended on the newly unemployed like vultures. Jobless people were easy targets—they had no work, so they could be “convinced.”

The recruiters roamed the land, snatching up anyone they could find.

But that still wasn’t enough. And soon, they realized just how brutal their job really was.

They dug even deeper—through villages, through towns, through farms.

Thanks to Gilbert’s agricultural reforms, harvests increased even as manpower needs dropped. That created waves of unemployed workers—but the recruiters, feral as beasts, devoured even that supply.

And still it wasn’t enough.

Before long, those once-proud recruiters became wandering specters, trudging across the kingdom like zombies.

They searched abandoned slums house by house, hunted through mountains for hidden settlements, even fought off monsters looking for villages that no longer existed.

Then—finally—came good news.

A rumor spread: “There’s a large number of immigrants in the capital.”

Like moths to a flame, the recruiters swarmed toward the royal city.

And the moment they saw fresh laborers, they ran.

It was sheer joy. If they hit their recruitment quota, they’d finally earn a vacation.

(Forget money—what I want is rest! A break! Time with my family!)

And so they cried out in wild ecstasy—

“YEEEEEHAAAW! FRESH LABORERS!!!”

---

Shink’s Point of View

A horde of the dead came charging straight at me.

They were dressed well—but their hair was a mess and their eyes were bloodshot.

As they ran, they somehow tidied themselves up mid-sprint, straightening collars and combing hair with their hands, before swarming us immigrants like a living army.

Everyone panicked. Everyone screamed.
Who are these people!?

A man suddenly leapt from the crowd, somersaulted through the air, and landed right in front of me, fixing his tie with lightning speed.

“Greetings! I am Kukul, recruitment officer of the Marenne Trading Company! Are you currently employed, sir?”

“Uh, y-yeah. Just arrived in Arland, haven’t found work yet.”

“I see! Then please, consider joining Marenne Trading! We offer benefits equivalent to those of the Princess’s Union!”

Before I could respond, the man rattled off his pitch at incredible speed.

There was something about his tone—it made every word stick in my head.

But what he was saying sounded… impossible.

The pay he was offering was way too high for a useless guy like me. Ten times what I expected. With that kind of money, I wouldn’t even need to haul water for a living. I’d already looked around the capital a bit, checked prices—yeah, I could live comfortably on that.

“Our company offers more than just high wages! You’ll also receive paid vacation! That means you get wages even on days you don’t work! You lose nothing!”

“Wha—you get paid for not working!?”

I couldn’t believe it.

“Indeed! It’s perfect for when you need sudden time off or want to go traveling! In addition, we provide dormitories with cheap rent and excellent living conditions!”

The benefits sounded absurdly good. Too good.

This was sketchy. Way too sketchy.

Old man back at the plantation—he got executed for talking too much—but he always said: “Any deal that sounds too good to be true always has a catch.”

I glanced around. The other immigrants looked just as suspicious and wary. They were probably thinking the same thing: this has to be some shady job. Honestly, I was thinking it too.

“As suspicious as it may sound, our company does not deal in illegal work. This is the standard employment package for us.”

Kukul said smoothly.

The job description… actually looked pretty normal. Something even I could handle.

Maybe I should take it. With that pay, I could finally live a proper life. Eat real bread—freshly baked every morning.

Just thinking about it made me drool. The first time I’d had warm bread here, it blew my mind.

Yeah… maybe it’s time I stopped relying on handouts. I should stand on my own.

Just as I made up my mind, the mob suddenly split down the middle.

“Damn it, the Princess’s Company… they’re here already.”

Walking down the open path was a stout man, flanked by his subordinates.

Wait—the Princess’s Company? As in, the one owned by Princess Alicetia herself? Everyone here just calls her “Princess.”

I’d passed their shops during walks around the capital, but they were far too fancy for a guy like me to ever set foot in. They said it was a “general trading company”—selling pretty much everything.

The man from before—Kukul—called out to the newcomer, sounding half-desperate.

“Ponpoko-san, please! When you people show up, you take everyone! Leave some for the rest of us!”

Ponpoko… that’s the Princess’s right-hand man, isn’t he? I don’t know much about him, but I’ve heard the name.

“If this is about the Marenne Trading Company, we don’t think we did anything wrong. If you’re dissatisfied, you just need to offer the same benefits we do.”

“There’s no way we can match the Princess’s Company on that…!”

“Hahaha. Then grow bigger. Your company’s got a good reputation, doesn’t it? Tell your company president I’d like to discuss business later.

Also—at least remember our company’s name correctly, will you?”

The man named Ponpoko exchanged a few words with the guy who’d been negotiating with me. The recruiter’s shoulders slumped, and he walked away, defeated.
Wait—what about my job!?

I almost reached out to stop him, but before I could, the man called Ponpoko stepped up in front of me.

He looked me over from head to toe.
Did I do something wrong?

“Hmm… a rough gem, but it shines. Looks worth polishing.”

“Uh… do you need something from me?”

“My apologies. I’m Ponpoko, acting chairman of the Viceroy Merchant Union.

To be direct—how about working with us?”

… So it was just another recruitment pitch. A different company this time… I guess that’s fine?

Anyway, I decided to hear him out. Apparently, they did all kinds of things: building those black, flat highways, crafting magic tools, running a transport business using their own small airships… sorry, I’m not smart enough to remember it all. But I did get that they handled a lot of products.

And the pay? Way better. Much better than the last company’s offer. Plus, if it’s the Princess’s company, there’s no way they’re doing shady stuff. I only saw her a few times back in the Empire, but she didn’t seem like a bad person—more like a genuinely good one.

So that’s how I ended up joining the Viceroy Merchant Union—let’s just call it the Princess’s Company.

Somehow, I wound up being made the new-hire representative. My job was to calm fights between other newcomers and pass their questions up to the higher-ups. Apparently, they were so short on people that the senior employees didn’t even have time to do it themselves. Since I was relatively capable, I got stuck with it before I knew it. The pay went up a bit, though, so I was happy.

I’d be living in the royal capital from now on. The Princess’s Company had something called an employee dormitory, and I got to move in there. It was crazy nice. Just one room, but it was basically a single-person apartment—a newly built one, too.

“Whoa…”

I walked around my new home in awe.
There’s a toilet! You pull this lever and—water flows out! And there’s even a bath! That’s some good stuff right there.

It was nothing like life as a slave back in the Empire. At first, I didn’t have much money, so I bought furniture bit by bit with my daily pay.

I worked hard and splurged on a soft, fluffy bed. On my first day off, I bought it—and then spent the whole day rolling around on it until sunset.

Yeah… looks like I can live a normal life here in Arland. The other immigrants seem happy, too.

And I’ve got a dream now.

One of the other immigrants—someone I got close to while living in the temporary housing—also works for the Princess’s Company. He’s a carpenter. He said Arland’s houses are warm even in winter and come with magic tools as standard.

Man, I want my own house someday… it’s every man’s dream. I don’t hate the dorm, but I can’t help but long for a home of my own. A place to live with a beautiful wife and a couple of kids.

If I work hard, I’ll manage it one day. A loan? Apparently, employees get lower interest rates. That’s nice. Still, I’ll save up a bit first—debts sound scary.

Yeah, immigrating here was the right call.

---
“Finally, we can breathe a little.”

Ponpoko let out a long sigh of relief as he sipped his tea. The labor shortage had finally eased enough for him to catch his breath.

Roughly thirty percent of the newly arrived immigrants had been hired by the Viceroy Merchant Union.

That meant projects that had stalled for lack of manpower could finally start up again. It had cost a fortune up front, sure—but Ponpoko saw it as an investment for future profit. And he wasn’t the only merchant who thought so.

“All ten factories should be able to operate now. We can finally start producing the magic cars too.”

Magic cars—those were a headache. Nobles had been pestering Ponpoko nonstop to start production sooner. Dealing with nobles was exhausting work, though the profits were excellent.

At first, he hadn’t expected to sell many. Just a luxury item for the rich, he’d thought. But Alicetia had told him otherwise—mass-produce them, lower the price, and make affordable models so ordinary citizens could buy them.

Not a luxury item for the wealthy—
A necessity for the people.

At the same time, in countless guilds and workshops across the kingdom, the recruitment officers—those poor souls—finally took their long-awaited vacations. They had secured enough workers to satisfy their bosses. For now.

But the next day, the kingdom announced yet another wave of public works projects.

The damage Arland had suffered in the war against the Empire had been fully covered by the reparations they’d seized—so the kingdom hadn’t gone into debt. Losing many elite soldiers had been painful, yes, but at least they weren’t drowning in war expenses.

However… there had been one particularly naughty girl in the Empire. A certain someone who’d gone around plundering Imperial assets and brought home a mountain of wealth.

The total amount far exceeded the official reparations—so much that the reparations looked like pocket change. The Empire had every right to weep.

After all, who would have guessed that someone was secretly digging up entire gold veins in enemy territory during the war?

And all that plundered treasure had been quietly handed over to the Arland government.

Now, both the kingdom and Alicetia, flush with riches, came to the same conclusion:

“The labor shortage’s mostly resolved—let’s accelerate the public works.”

With more workers available, and Arland seeking not temporary wealth but stable tax revenue, it was the obvious move. Especially since a certain gold-hungry troublemaker (who also happened to earn even more than she spent) existed in their midst.

And with the Empire’s threat greatly reduced, Gilbert had even announced large-scale tax cuts.

For years, constant border skirmishes and the threat of Imperial invasion had forced heavy taxation to fund the army. Now, with peace at hand, lowering taxes would finally ease the people’s burden.

If they overtaxed, people would grow resentful. Even justified taxes would never be fully accepted. And public distrust in the kingdom would invite foreign meddling—especially from the central continent, which feared Arland’s unity and watched eagerly for cracks to exploit. Hence, the tax cuts.

As a result, spending increased, and the national economy began to boom again.

But not everyone rejoiced.

Those poor recruitment officers—after enjoying their first real rest in ages—returned to work cheerful and refreshed… only to find their companies filled with an all-too-familiar tension.

Just days ago, the air had been calm, relaxed—a collective sigh of relief after the labor crisis. But now? The same dreadful pressure had returned.

They reached for the resignation letters in their pockets… only to feel a firm hand on their shoulders.

Moving like rusted tin toys, they turned to see their smiling superiors standing behind them.

Run. Whatever this is—you need to run. But the grip on their shoulders tightened, refusing to let go.

In their bosses’ eyes burned the light of madness.

Now they understood exactly how a frog felt under a snake’s gaze. Frozen, the recruiters realized their fate.

“You’ve rested well, haven’t you? Feeling refreshed? Then go out there and find us more workers.”

“... Please, just let me quit.”

“Hahaha, that’s a funny joke. You’re not going anywhere.

Congratulations—I’m giving you a thirty percent raise.”

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

And thus, their nightmare began anew—racing across the kingdom, hollow-eyed, in search of workers once more.

Because in Arland, there was never enough manpower.

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