With local laws out of the way, it was time to start divvying up roles. The village watch, the food-prep team, the group collecting materials for the village to make things with, the ones building homes and tools and such…
I decided to assign police duty to the extra Thought Communication–wielding tempest wolves. There were seven left after all the hobgobs were paired off, and with Ranga practically glued to my ass, that made six I could send on patrol.
Beyond that, I figured I’d leave the assignment details to Rigurd.
“Rigurd, I hereby appoint you ‘goblin lord’! It will be your job to keep this village well run and well governed.”
In other words, I tossed everything onto his lap. As hard as possible.
But think about it. I worked for a general contractor back on Earth. I’m no ruler. And if I got too wedded to this village, I’d never get a chance to visit a human town. Even if it meant being a tad pushy, I’d have to hand it off to him someday.
I was expecting some blowback, but—
“Y-yes, Sir Rimuru!! I promise you that I, Rigurd, will devote myself body and soul to this vital post!!”
He was sobbing tears of joy again.
Fair enough. Let the king reign, not govern. Or at least let him bark out orders now and then, and leave him alone otherwise.
You know, I seem to remember Rigurd being this doddering, wrinkled mess of a goblin when we first met. Now he’s a hobgoblin in the prime of his life—fit, muscular, and bursting with energy. He might even be stronger than Rigur. How did that happen? The more I mess with this magic stuff, the crazier it all seems to me.
“Very well,” I crowed. “It is in your hands now, Rigurd! Now, I was watching the construction work. It’s terrible, isn’t it?”
One could barely call the structures houses. These were stronger, smarter goblins now, but I suppose asking them to suddenly develop technical skills was asking a bit much.
“It pains me to admit so, Sir Rimuru. We never had a need for very large buildings in the past…”
“Yeah. You guys are bigger now, after all. As for clothing… You guys are all exposing way too much flesh. Could you maybe pass some clothes around?”
“Ah! Yes! There are some people I know that we’ve had dealings with several times. Perhaps they could supply clothing that could fit our needs. In fact, with their skills, they might know how to build homes as well!”
Hmm.
Having worked for a contractor, I had an eye for decent building quality. In terms of what I could actually construct, however, my skill was limited to your basic Sunday afternoon DIY projects. Not enough to serve as a building foreman. If these businessmen could help with that, perhaps it’d be worth paying them a visit.
“I see,” I replied. “It wouldn’t hurt to talk to them. What did you pay them with, though? Money?”
“No, Sir Rimuru. We do have some currency that we confiscated from adventurers, but that remains in storage. Instead, we have obtained the materials we need via either barter or short-term work.”
“Oh. So who are these guys?”
“They are known as dwarves.”
Dwarves! The infamous smithing race! I gotta check ’em out! And while the loincloth crisis had captured most of my attention, something had to be done about their defensive capabilities. Their armor provided no more protection than tatters—and they couldn’t even use it, because it didn’t fit anymore. It was certainly an issue, and tackling it right now would be killing two birds with one stone.
Just one problem. Almost nothing they had seized from passing adventurers was of much use any longer, and whatever money they had stored up couldn’t be very much. What could we trade? Another problem to shelve for later, perhaps…
“I’ll try visiting them. Can you make the arrangements for me, Rigurd?”
“Ah! Ah, of course, Sir Rimuru! I’ll have everything for your journey by tomorrow afternoon!”
He sounded enthusiastic enough about it that I felt safe in his hands. He’d probably give me whatever money was left, too, not that I should expect much.
Currency, though, huh? It’d be funny if it was paper.
Thinking about it, though, I didn’t have much money to my name, either. The fact that currency existed at all in this world was a nice surprise, at least. I’d figured it did, but I’d had no idea how it was circulated at all.
Once I reach a human town, I’ll have to go around and check out prices. But that can wait until after the dwarves. After all the hard work getting this town in shape, a leisurely visit would do wonders for me. I’ll be with my own humankind soon enough—checking out one of the other races could help me learn a little more about this wacky world.
Although technically a subrace of people, the dwarves apparently lived in large towns of their own. They had a king as well, although no goblin was ever permitted even a glance. Just being allowed into their towns was considered an all-time achievement for goblinkind.
I started to wonder about the state of goblin discrimination around here. I was a slime, after all. Would I be treated fairly? There were lots of anxieties to entertain, but I still couldn’t wait to meet some of those little guys. The excitement remained fresh in my mind all throughout the rest of the night.
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