Steel, Guns, and the Industrial Party in Another World

Chapter 230: Salt Folk

TL: Etude

Kevin, dizzy and bleary-eyed, guarded his stall. It was already noon, and he hadnt eaten anything yet, his stomach growling in protest.

But what could he do? Since sunrise, he had been at his stall, earning only a few measly copper coins. He couldnt bear to spend them on food.

He sat on the ground, hugging his knees, feeling utterly helpless. In front of him, a worn cloth on the ground served as his stall, with a few bags of white stuff on it.

It was salt the very thing Kevin was selling.

His village had always relied on salt production for livelihood. Merchants used to come monthly to buy their salt, paying them for it.

Gradually, things changed. The merchants began to aggressively lower their prices and acted indifferently, as if they didnt care whether they bought the salt or not.

With salt production as their main trade, the villagers had no choice but to accept the merchants low prices.

But the prices offered by the merchants became increasingly unbearable, and their visits to buy salt became less frequent.

Someone from Port Fran brought news that a salt tycoon named Gedwin and other merchants had established a salt field near the port. They apparently used a method that produced salt in tons, far more efficiently than their villages boiling method.

Initially, the salt field couldnt meet all demands, so the merchants still relied on these salt folk. But as the field expanded and production increased, their dependence on the salt folk decreased.

The salt from the field wasnt better than what Kevins village produced, perhaps even slightly inferior in quality. However, it had an unbeatable advantage it was cheap.

Extremely cheap. Even a modest family could afford enough salt for pickling fish.

With diminishing returns from salt production, Kevins household expenses soon exceeded their income. If this continued, their meager savings would quickly deplete.

Thus, Kevin and others from his village had to carry their salt to nearby towns to sell. To avoid competition, each chose a different location, and Kevins destination was Port Fran.

He had arrived at Port Fran the day before, but after a days effort, he earned only a tiny amount of copper coins. Hungry till night, he bought a black bread to stave off hunger, further depleting his already scant earnings.

He stayed in a stable at an inn, planning to try his luck again the next day.

Kevin had attempted to sell his salt at a salt store, but the price they offered was laughably low. When he tried to negotiate, he was quickly driven out by the shops staff.

As he pondered his next move, he noticed someone approaching with a bucket and brush.

Kevin guessed it was someone from the town hall about to paint some slogan. This was a new propaganda method invented by the young lord who had taken office last year. These slogans were painted in prominent public areas, conveying policies through concise text.

Slogans like Protect the Environment, Everyones Responsibility or Littering Strictly Punished were even painted in their remote village, although only a few there could read.

Seeing the bucket-bearer heading his way, Kevin cursed his luck and quickly moved his stall elsewhere, clearing the space by the wall.

The town hall worker dipped the brush in paint and began to apply it to the wall.

A crowd gathered to watch.

Kevin, curious, approached the crowd and tapped a man engrossed in reading the wall. Excuse me, sir, what does it say on the wall?

The man seemed so absorbed; he must understand the writing.

Turning to Kevin, the man said, You dont know? It says Heighten Alertness, Guard Against Spies.

Guard against spies?

Kevin was confused. He knew what spies did, but why suddenly paint such a slogan?

Yes, arent you aware of the recent situation?

What situation?

The man spoke in a hushed tone, War is about to start! The lords are gearing up for battle again!

War? Why would there be a war all of a sudden?

Kevin frowned, recalling the horrors of war his elders had spoken of: lords leading armies to plunder each others territories, imposing war taxes on their people, and conscripting common folk.

The closest he had come to war was a pirate invasion. According to the village elders, the devastation of war was far worse than any pirate raid.

They say were going to war with Emden.

Emden? Ive heard its a very powerful territory to our south.

Whats there to fear? Have you forgotten how Lord Grayman thrashed those pirates and the traitorous Baylding? Our military is strong.

The man speaking to Kevin was brimming with excitement, especially when mentioning their young lord, his gestures animated.

Kevin scoffed inwardly. Port Fran might have walls for protection, but their village had none.

He turned back to his stall, muttering, War, war, we salt folk are nearly starving and all they care about is war

A man nearby, overhearing Kevins complaint, showed a glint of interest in his eyes

Kevin continued at his stall for a while but eventually couldnt endure any longer. He was too weak even to call out to passersby.

Holding the few copper coins in his hand, he painfully decided to buy some bread to quell his hunger and drink some cool water from the well.

As he got up and took a few steps, someone called out to him.

Is this your stall?

Kevin quickly turned around, Yes, yes. This is my stall. Would you like to buy some salt?

He observed the customer: of average height and build, with an unremarkable face.

Whats the price for your salt?

Kevin, a bit uneasy, quoted the lowest price he could afford.

The customer hesitated, Thats quite a bit more expensive than the store prices!

Kevin panicked, Sir, my salt is indeed a bit pricey, but its of high quality, manually boiled and carefully ground and sifted in our village. Its almost as good as the refined salt used by nobility. Look at the salt in the stores coarse grains, full of sand, nowhere near as good as mine.

The customer, rubbing his chin, seemed to consider Kevins words. He tasted a bit of the salt.

Hmm, youre right, it does taste much better than the store-bought salt.

Hearing this, Kevins eyes lit up with hope.

So, will you

Well, our shop does need salt, and since yours is of good quality, Ill buy from you. Just this bag!

He pointed to a bag of salt.

Right away, sir!

Kevin quickly tied up the bag and handed it over, and the customer promptly paid.

The customer inquired, I havent seen you before. Are you new here?

Uh, I just came yesterday to sell salt

Will you keep selling here?

As long as you need it, Ill be here to sell.

Good, if its good, Ill keep coming. Thanks.

He patted Kevins shoulder, picked up the bag of salt, and walked away.

Kevin carefully shook his small bag of coins, the clinking sounds filling him with a sense of happiness.

Finally, he could have a full meal today.

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