The Villainess Builds a Department Store - Chapter 33

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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The Villainess Establishes a Department Store

Chapter 33

Most of the construction workers brought packed lunches from home.

But the lunches they brought early in the morning would inevitably turn cold by lunchtime.

And while they could eat at restaurants, even before considering the distance, their wallets wouldn’t allow it.

But to provide meals right at the construction site? If they could earn money and solve their meal problem at the same time, there was no reason not to work.

Everyone seemed to think alike, as a long line had already formed.

Bastian, who was about to join the line following them, suddenly stopped as a brilliant idea flashed through his mind.

Would free meals really be delicious? At best, it would just be hard black bread, a piece of cheese, and watered-down wine.

Of course, most would eat it gratefully. After all, it was free.

But would the Guild of Stonemasons and their apprentices feel the same way?

After being lost in deep thought, Bastian snapped his fingers and grinned wickedly.

He had thought of a much better opportunity than working at the construction site.

* * *

And a month later.

“Good morning, sir. What would you like today? Today’s recommended menu is the crab sandwich from Bistro Crab Crustian.”

Sebastien entered the temporarily installed on-site command tent and asked politely with a respectful voice.

“I’ll take that.”

The apprentice who had come to the site in place of his master didn’t even lift his eyes from the blueprints as he rummaged through his pocket and flicked a coin.

“Thank you.”

Sebastien bowed his head and exited the tent.

Then he headed toward the construction workers at the site.

“Uncle!”

The workers familiarly welcomed the boy who had returned to his usual carefree attitude, not the polite demeanor he showed in the tent.

“Oh, kid. You’re here.”

“Why is this uncle like this again from the morning? I can tell you had a drink yesterday too, didn’t you? When that happens, you need hot, greasy soup to settle your stomach. The Sardine Farm is making bouillabaisse today.”

“Ugh… Then I’ll have that.”

“Yes sir. Thank you as always!”

Sebastien, who had skillfully taken the order, left the construction site with a satisfied expression.

The workers each added their own comments about Bastian’s presence, which had somehow become part of the morning routine at the construction site.

“Looking at him, that young one has quite the business sense.”

“Did you see how he acts in front of the stonemason masters? I was impressed thinking, ‘So that’s what social skills look like.’ Just look at how he remembers all those orders. The kid is really sharp.”

“He’s got brains, guts, and diligence… just one thing, he was born into the wrong family.”

Though it’s not really our place to say. The worker shrugged as he spat out thick phlegm.

Instead of participating as a construction worker, Sebastien had started a lunch delivery business.

Though calling it a business wasn’t that grand.

Every morning he took lunch orders from the workers and brought them at lunchtime.

What initially required just one basket now needed restaurants to lend him a separate cart.

Though some adults tried to copy him later, the shop owners and workers who had already benefited greatly from Sebastien naturally became the boy’s allies.

“Go do some work instead. Who knows? Maybe when the market is completed, he’ll boldly appear as a shop owner.”

While there wasn’t anyone from the back alleys who didn’t have a pitiful situation, Sebastien felt even more heartbreaking because of his brilliant talent.

* * *

Quite some time had passed since the first shovel was turned for the passage construction. Counting the time, it seemed like the seasons had changed at least twice.

In the meantime, I had turned eleven and Antoine had also aged another year.

The street vendors who were suddenly evicted complained about what they were supposed to do, but I heard they each found their own ways to survive, scattered and then regrouped.

There was a low hill not far from the port and streets, and they had completely settled there.

Even shop owners whose businesses were affected by the passage construction opened temporary branches there, so now it had become a proper market.

‘It definitely didn’t exist in my previous life.’

Now there was even a traveling troupe that visited regularly.

In the letter Polly sent a few days ago, written in her characteristic delicate handwriting that reflected her personality, she described how wonderful the troupe’s performance was and how entertaining the puppet show had been.

To her suggestion that I join her next time, I readily wrote an accepting reply.

That wasn’t the only reply I had to write.

After formally registering the preserved meat patent with Father’s help, letters begging for permission to use the patent began pouring in.

Unfortunately, most of them were blinded by the fact that the patent holder was a ‘ten-year-old girl’ and proposed highway robbery conditions without knowing who was behind her.

Letters from such people were being used as kindling in the kitchen.

The sound of the head chef giggling that high-quality paper even produced soft ash was vivid in my ears.

Conversely, letters from businessmen who treated me as a proper negotiation partner were immediately forwarded to my representative.

For reference, my current representative is my father.

His voyage was canceled anyway, and he had nothing else to do at home, so he might as well do this!

“Mr. Rivers sent another letter?”

Though I had only added a few words during the redevelopment project, the way Mr. Rivers looked at me had changed.

While I was happy that my account benefited greatly from this, it was also somewhat burdensome.

I wanted to live as quietly as possible. Instead of being swept up in an unknown future and living anxiously every moment, I wanted to make the future I knew just slightly more prosperous and live like a thin, long silk thread.

Let me be careful not to meet with Mr. Rivers for a while. Reaching that conclusion, I opened the unusually stiff and luxurious envelope.

[I heard you recently acquired the latest transportation device called a ‘bicycle’ at your estate? I’d like to buy one for Hippolyte too. If it’s alright, could I get an introduction through you, Miss?]

What? I was worried, but it was just a common request from a doting father?

Monsieur Michaux had finally succeeded in inventing the latest bicycle that was familiar to me too.

It was exactly that bicycle you often see on t-shirts, with an enormously huge front wheel.

Mother, who was more elegant than anyone but equally curious, seemed to have immediately taken a liking to this latest bicycle and was still roaming the garden fearlessly under the summer sun.

“Madam! It’s dangerous! You must come down now!”

“Just a little more, just one more lap!”

“Me too, I want to ride too!”

As I pressed my forehead against the glass warmed by the sunlight, Mother’s girlish laughter, Camille’s horrified voice, and Antoine’s voice stamping his feet wanting to ride too came through clearly.

At this rate, won’t she become so healthy that the hong-sam Guillaume is bringing will be useless?

‘Then what do I do with that? Should I give it to Antoine?’

Our precious child, take care of your immunity with hong-sam.

Muttering the advertisement slogan I heard endlessly during exam season, I flipped through the calendar.

[The day Guillaume returns!]

There was a day circled in red ink, with stars drawn in, and lines drawn underneath.

“Time really flies…”

It felt like he had just set sail recently, but time had already passed this much.

Hong-sam, no. My heart pounded with anticipation at the thought of meeting Guillaume soon.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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