“This is it.”
After leaving the shop, we returned to the slaves first. But it seemed like it would still take time, so we had them continue clothes shopping while Machad and I went to the craftsman’s house.
I knocked on the door, but there was no sign of anyone coming out. As I’m wondering what to do, I stop Machad as he’s about to knock again impatiently.
“Rolando-sama, what’s wrong?”
“No, let’s just go inside.”
“Huh?”
“You’re a merchant so you may not get it, but having your focus interrupted kills your motivation in an instant. We can knock again if he’s really not home.”
As someone who makes things myself, I understand anyone would feel bothered if interrupted while motivated. If the craftsman is focused right now, us showing up could disturb him. Thinking that, I decided to just let ourselves in.
Luckily – or carelessly? – the door isn’t locked, so we can enter the house. At a glance, it looks like any normal house, but the back seems to be his workshop, with parts like frames that seem to be for wagons and stalls scattered around a decently sized space.
It’s like puzzle pieces scattered apart, quite an interesting sight. A middle-aged man silently focused on his work can be seen among them.
He doesn’t notice Machad and I entering the house, absorbed in his work. His face is somehow shining brightly, giving off the mood of a boy happily playing.
“Oh, there he is. Um, excuse me―”
“Wait.”
“Wh-what is it?”
“I told you right? Having your focus interrupted kills your motivation. We’ll wait until he’s done working.”
“O-okay.”
After that, we pass the time looking around at the frames and blueprints in the workshop, and I coordinate with Machad about the state of the Commercio Trading Company and future plans. Then the man shows movement.
“Hmm, I think that’s good for now.”
“You done?”
“Whoa! Where did you two get in!?”
“Obviously from the front door. Sorry, but we let ourselves in.”
The man was stretching after finishing work, and seemed startled by the sudden call. I thought he’d be angry, but he just asked about our business without seeming annoyed.
“So what do you want with me?”
“I heard you won’t supply stalls to that shop anymore. Came to ask why.”
“Did that guy send you? It’s simple – I just don’t want to supply to that shop anymore.”
“But why? There must be a reason, you can’t just randomly decide that. It’d be more childish and foolish than a kid’s prank.”
I implicitly say “What you’re doing is more pointless than a kid’s prank.” Seeming to realize that, the man takes an offended attitude.
I motion with my chin for him to continue. Looking like he’s given up, the man starts muttering.
“That guy doesn’t understand craftsmen at all. No, merchants don’t understand how craftsmen feel.”
“Specifically?”
“A craftsman’s mood affects the quality of their work. So even little things can alter the quality. It changes with the slightest things.”
“You mean stuff like repeatedly knocking on the door as you leave, or talking to you while you’re working?”
“Yeah, that’s it.”
“I see.”
I understand what he’s saying. Anyone would be irritated if disturbed while focused. But since the other party may not realize that, proper communication is necessary…
“So did you convey that to them?”
“Huh?”
“That it’ll disturb you if they come while you’re working, so feel free to enter on their own, or don’t talk to you while working and wait until you’re done. You understand it yourself, but how could a complete stranger with no relation to you?”
“Th-that’s…”
“Besides, a master could make the same quality even when talking. Look at this.”
“Th-this is!?”
I convey to him the importance of communication. Then I take out the prototype Goblin King woodcraft doll I made from storage and show it to him.
Seeing its exquisite construction and intricacy with the same wood, he seems impressed, letting out sounds of admiration.
“Amazingly intricate. The one who made this is quite the skilled craftsman.”
“Let’s chat a bit.”
“??”
Not understanding what I mean, he makes a puzzled expression but realizes when I take out the wood for the woodcraft dolls from storage and start working. He initiates the conversation.
“You, boy, made this?”
“That’s right. (grin)”
“How long does it take to make one?”
“Around thirty a day at this level. (grin)”
Conversing with the man while working, after around thirty minutes, the woodcraft doll is completed. It’s another Goblin King, the same as what I first showed him.
The finished Goblin King is comparable to the first one, with the muscle movement and subtle posture if anything better quality.
Seeming to realize this, the man just lets out sounds of admiration like when first shown the woodcraft doll. I hit him with painful words.
“Those who blame others and can’t make something satisfactory are third-rate… amateurs. True masters can produce peerless masterpieces even in the dead center of a horde of monsters. That’s what a real craftsman is.”
“…”
“Sorry for interrupting you. Let’s go, Machad.”
“Huh? Ah, yes!”
Having said my piece, I call out to Machad as if finished with business and turn to leave the man’s home. But the man calls out to my back.
“Boy, what’s your name?”
“It’s Rolando.”
“I see. I’m Hedwig. Thank you for today.”
“All I did was chat while making a woodcraft doll here. You’ve no reason to thank me. But if you want to show gratitude, just do your job properly. I’ll need quite many stove stalls before long.”
“Got it. I’ll apologize to that guy soon too.”
After that conversation, I raised one hand, waved it to Hedwig, and left the house.
“This is it.”
After leaving the shop, we returned to the slaves first. But it seemed like it would still take time, so we had them continue clothes shopping while Machad and I went to the craftsman’s house.
I knocked on the door, but there was no sign of anyone coming out. As I’m wondering what to do, I stop Machad as he’s about to knock again impatiently.
“Rolando-sama, what’s wrong?”
“No, let’s just go inside.”
“Huh?”
“You’re a merchant so you may not get it, but having your focus interrupted kills your motivation in an instant. We can knock again if he’s really not home.”
As someone who makes things myself, I understand anyone would feel bothered if interrupted while motivated. If the craftsman is focused right now, us showing up could disturb him. Thinking that, I decided to just let ourselves in.
Luckily – or carelessly? – the door isn’t locked, so we can enter the house. At a glance, it looks like any normal house, but the back seems to be his workshop, with parts like frames that seem to be for wagons and stalls scattered around a decently sized space.
It’s like puzzle pieces scattered apart, quite an interesting sight. A middle-aged man silently focused on his work can be seen among them.
He doesn’t notice Machad and I entering the house, absorbed in his work. His face is somehow shining brightly, giving off the mood of a boy happily playing.
“Oh, there he is. Um, excuse me―”
“Wait.”
“Wh-what is it?”
“I told you right? Having your focus interrupted kills your motivation. We’ll wait until he’s done working.”
“O-okay.”
After that, we pass the time looking around at the frames and blueprints in the workshop, and I coordinate with Machad about the state of the Commercio Trading Company and future plans. Then the man shows movement.
“Hmm, I think that’s good for now.”
“You done?”
“Whoa! Where did you two get in!?”
“Obviously from the front door. Sorry, but we let ourselves in.”
The man was stretching after finishing work, and seemed startled by the sudden call. I thought he’d be angry, but he just asked about our business without seeming annoyed.
“So what do you want with me?”
“I heard you won’t supply stalls to that shop anymore. Came to ask why.”
“Did that guy send you? It’s simple – I just don’t want to supply to that shop anymore.”
“But why? There must be a reason, you can’t just randomly decide that. It’d be more childish and foolish than a kid’s prank.”
I implicitly say “What you’re doing is more pointless than a kid’s prank.” Seeming to realize that, the man takes an offended attitude.
I motion with my chin for him to continue. Looking like he’s given up, the man starts muttering.
“That guy doesn’t understand craftsmen at all. No, merchants don’t understand how craftsmen feel.”
“Specifically?”
“A craftsman’s mood affects the quality of their work. So even little things can alter the quality. It changes with the slightest things.”
“You mean stuff like repeatedly knocking on the door as you leave, or talking to you while you’re working?”
“Yeah, that’s it.”
“I see.”
I understand what he’s saying. Anyone would be irritated if disturbed while focused. But since the other party may not realize that, proper communication is necessary…
“So did you convey that to them?”
“Huh?”
“That it’ll disturb you if they come while you’re working, so feel free to enter on their own, or don’t talk to you while working and wait until you’re done. You understand it yourself, but how could a complete stranger with no relation to you?”
“Th-that’s…”
“Besides, a master could make the same quality even when talking. Look at this.”
“Th-this is!?”
I convey to him the importance of communication. Then I take out the prototype Goblin King woodcraft doll I made from storage and show it to him.
Seeing its exquisite construction and intricacy with the same wood, he seems impressed, letting out sounds of admiration.
“Amazingly intricate. The one who made this is quite the skilled craftsman.”
“Let’s chat a bit.”
“??”
Not understanding what I mean, he makes a puzzled expression but realizes when I take out the wood for the woodcraft dolls from storage and start working. He initiates the conversation.
“You, boy, made this?”
“That’s right. (grin)”
“How long does it take to make one?”
“Around thirty a day at this level. (grin)”
Conversing with the man while working, after around thirty minutes, the woodcraft doll is completed. It’s another Goblin King, the same as what I first showed him.
The finished Goblin King is comparable to the first one, with the muscle movement and subtle posture if anything better quality.
Seeming to realize this, the man just lets out sounds of admiration like when first shown the woodcraft doll. I hit him with painful words.
“Those who blame others and can’t make something satisfactory are third-rate… amateurs. True masters can produce peerless masterpieces even in the dead center of a horde of monsters. That’s what a real craftsman is.”
“…”
“Sorry for interrupting you. Let’s go, Machad.”
“Huh? Ah, yes!”
Having said my piece, I call out to Machad as if finished with business and turn to leave the man’s home. But the man calls out to my back.
“Boy, what’s your name?”
“It’s Rolando.”
“I see. I’m Hedwig. Thank you for today.”
“All I did was chat while making a woodcraft doll here. You’ve no reason to thank me. But if you want to show gratitude, just do your job properly. I’ll need quite many stove stalls before long.”
“Got it. I’ll apologize to that guy soon too.”
After that conversation, I raised one hand, waved it to Hedwig, and left the house.
