This Emperor Is Running a Marriage Scam - Chapter 117

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 117

“We’ve arrived, sir.”
At the Coachman’s words, Clark examined the entrance to the Beach.
The Beach entrance, where a narrow path wide enough for a single carriage stretched ahead, was congested with rental carriages and horses tied up on one side.
“Won’t you drive further inland?”
“If it were a private carriage, perhaps, but with the sand and gravel, one wrong move and the wheels will get stuck.”
At the Coachman’s blunt refusal, Clark had no choice but to pay the fare and step down from the carriage.
Instead of leaving this place, the Coachman guided the horse toward where the other rental carriages waited. Even without any marking, it appeared to be the rental carriage stand.
As Clark walked along the path, his gaze naturally turned toward the Sea, and a question occurred to him.
“This should be a Sea Slime habitat, shouldn’t it?”
The Beach, where the tide rolled in beneath glittering sunlight, was quite beautiful, and quite a number of people were enjoying themselves swimming in the White Sand Beach and shallow waters.
“With such fine weather, they probably aren’t worried about Sea Slimes.”
Clark nodded in understanding and now surveyed the path ahead of him.
In the distance, he could see a small Manor that appeared newly built and an old log cabin of similar size.
Since the shop was supposedly about thirty meters from the Manor, it seemed he could simply continue straight ahead.
But the further he went, the stranger the scenery became. Despite the considerable distance to Hailey’s shop and more than thirty minutes remaining before opening, a long queue had already formed for something.
‘Surely this isn’t a line to buy rice cakes on skewers?’
As Clark continued walking forward, he heard people in the middle of the queue speaking.
“Hey, do you think we’ll be able to get rice cakes on skewers?”
“Who knows.”
At those words, Clark’s shoulders rose involuntarily as he realized this long line was definitely a queue to buy rice cakes on skewers.
‘It seems the newspaper advertisement I published had an enormous effect. Excellent!’
He clenched his fist. If he had provided this much help, Hailey ought to regard him as her benefactor.
But the further he went, the stranger it felt. This was because he could see people sitting in folding chairs placed in the middle of the line. One woman had even set up a parasol and was reading a newspaper beneath it.
Beyond that, he also saw someone lying sprawled out on a picnic mat.
‘They came after seeing the advertisement, but could they really be this thoroughly prepared?’
Clark tilted his head in confusion but continued following the line, and eventually rubbed his eyes.
“What?”
What was wedged between the lines was unmistakably a temporary Tent. A middle-aged man sitting inside the Tent, which was open on all sides, was eating a sandwich.
‘No, why is he eating a sandwich when he came to buy a snack?’
Clark pulled out his journalist’s notebook. No matter how good the newspaper advertisement’s effect was, this phenomenon was truly strange.
“Sir?”
Clark identified himself and his affiliation to the man eating the sandwich.
“What brings a journalist here, sir?”
“I’d like to ask you something. Why are you set up like this?”
“What?”
The man looked Clark up and down as if bewildered, then asked in return.
“Are you really asking because you don’t know?”
“Ah, I came from the Capital.”
Sensing the man’s curt demeanor, Clark handed him a coin and offered a subtle smile.
“I’m not trying to get information for free.”
The man’s expression brightened upon receiving the payment.
“If you’re from out of town, you might not know. That’s why….”
.
.
.
“What? You came here at seven in the morning with your family to buy skewers?”
After conversing with the man, Clark gasped at the incomprehensible reason and blurted out his question loudly.
“Why are you so shocked?”
The man pointed ahead.
“I’m nothing. The person in the very first tent brought his wife and three kids and actually camped out.”
Clark couldn’t make sense of the situation at all.
Especially the fact that people would camp out with their families just to buy skewers—when there was a purchase limit of only two per person—was completely beyond the realm of common sense.
Just then, the front of the line stirred.
“Looks like sales are about to start. I should get my spot ready too.”
The man shoved the remaining sandwich into his mouth and began folding up his tent.
The back of the line grew restless as well.
“Come on! It’s time!”
Looking back, a woman who had been reading a newspaper under a parasol was calling to her child. People who had been playing on the White Sand Beach brushed off the sand and rushed over to join the line.
Alarmed by the sight, Clark muttered to himself.
“This is ridiculous… If I just go to the front and say I want to buy a hundred, I can get an interview or whatever. Even with the limit, there’s nothing money can’t solve.”
That was when it happened.
“Hey, you there.”
Someone standing in the skewer purchase line suddenly called out to Clark.
“Yes? Are you talking to me?”
“My ears are sharp, so I heard everything you said. I don’t care about interviews or whatever, so stop scheming about bulk purchases and get to the back of the line.”
“What?”
Irritated by the casual tone and commanding manner, Clark examined the man’s appearance. The rough-looking man with a furrowed brow looked every bit like a Sailor.
Clark ignored him and turned away. He thought a mere Sailor wasn’t worth his time.
The man then spoke loudly to those around him.
“Hey, this guy isn’t even in line but wants to buy a hundred skewers? He thinks money can solve anything.”
Clark scoffed. But everyone in line suddenly turned their gaze toward him, their eyes sharp with hostility.
“What?”
“He’s not getting in line?”
“Who does this bastard think he is?”
Realizing the atmosphere had turned ominous, Clark sensed something was very wrong.
“Ah, no, I’m a journalist. I just need to conduct an interview.”
“Shut up!”
“Get in line, you punk!”
“Who do you think you are, wasting everyone’s time like this?”
Clark flinched as shouts and curses rained down upon him. The atmosphere was so hostile that he could have been beaten to death without anyone batting an eye. He stumbled backward in alarm, his face going pale.
“Oh my! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to! I-I’ll get in line right now!”
Terrified, Clark scrambled toward the back of the queue.

* * *

By the time I finished arranging the carefully prepared mini kimbap and rice cakes on skewers on the counter, it was one o’clock in the afternoon.
I spoke to Baron, who was sitting on a folding chair behind the cash box.
“Ready to start?”
“Yeah.”
Baron rang the mini bell to signal the start of sales. The first customer, who had been waiting with the tent already organized, asked a question.
“I’ve been curious since earlier—what are these rice cakes on skewers? The color is different from last time?”
Kimarise, standing to my right, broke into a bright smile.
“It’s a spicy rice cake skewer that Hailey recently developed.”
“Spicy? What does that taste like?”
“Ah, when you eat it, your mouth becomes hot and tingling—that’s what we call spicy. Drinking water will soothe it.”
“Is that so? I’m curious. Give me ten mixed—half and half. And ten of those kimbap too. Do you see my wife and children over there?”
“Yes. That’s five people total. Thank you very much.”
While I wrapped the rice cake skewers, Kimarise packaged the kimbap, and the customer placed money into the cash box in front of Baron.
“Thank you. Please come again.”
Just then, a commotion erupted from the back of the line.
“Oh my! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to! I-I’ll get in line right now!”
At someone’s cry, Baron let out a quiet chuckle.
“Looks like someone got caught cutting in line.”
Kimarise laughed as well, seeming unimpressed.
“Must be someone’s first time here.”
That seemed to be the case. I quickly moved my hands to wrap rice cake skewers for the next customer.
.
.
.
The last customer was a woman holding a child’s hand. She placed one rice cake skewer in the child’s hand and wrapped three more, then left with a cheerful laugh.
“Nothing left.”
Baron checked the counter and rang the mini bell again to signal the end of sales. It was exactly two o’clock in the afternoon, and at that very moment, cries of dismay erupted from the customers.
“Damn it! I was right there! I should have come earlier!”
“Oh, what am I going to tell my daughter….”
“Miss, you don’t have any hidden away, do you?”
The customers standing in the back were deeply disappointed, but I bowed respectfully toward them.
“Thank you for coming. We’ll see you again in four days.”

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