Build the Kingdom

Chapter 8: Serfs Can Be Traded (2)

"Hu-reup!"

Rader wielded his shovel and wrestled with the earth.

"Do you think mere stones can stop me?"

Thunk!

With great force, Rader used the leverage of the shovel to lift the stone, sending it flying through the air as it popped out of the ground.

"Another day, another loaf!"

Baker shouted as he ground the wheat grains.

With Rader gone, all the milling and kneading had fallen to him.

And since Rader couldn’t sow the seeds, that responsibility naturally fell to Hu.

"Krurrr!"

Krurr rolled around in the sun off to the side.

With movements reminiscent of Mowgli from The Jungle Book, Krurr's playful tumbles could make someone mistake them for a young boy at first glance.

However, on closer inspection, their facial features were delicate and fine.

There wasn’t anything distinctly feminine, but Hu’s instincts told him that Krurr was a girl.

The dark skin wasn’t natural—it was simply dirt-stained.

'Rather than black, it’s closer to red.'

Observing carefully revealed many things.

Observing carefully—this was Hu's specialty. Or rather, it was a skill honed from living fiercely.

Back in the first round, without any information, he had struggled immensely.

Every moment had been a crisis, and he had to do whatever it took to overcome it.

The habit of keen observation had formed during those times.

If this were classified as a trait, it would be a skill worthy of being called Perception or Insight.

While the three of them were busy with their tasks, Hu headed toward the field.

It was time to fill Rader’s absence.

'Dedication.'

He dug into the earth by hand, planted the seeds, and covered them again.

Just scattering seeds would be easier, but that wouldn’t bring a good harvest.

'The field is too vast now for me to cover it all with spirit energy.'

It meant even Fluffy’s strength couldn’t handle it alone.

In that case, he had to find another solution.

The Farmer King, FisherKing, was a madman obsessed with farming, and he was utterly relentless, even without spirit energy.

'Dedication, huh?'

The Farmer King used everything he had learned from the God Hand system purely for farming.

'That lunatic.'

If that bastard had truly lived in the world of God Hand, things would have turned out very differently.

The first farming lesson FisherKing had taught Hu:

'Put your heart into it.'

As Hu planted the seeds with care, his mind drifted.

'There were many.'

In the first round, maybe he wasn’t the first one to make contact.

Still, someone else must have interacted around the same time.

It was the period when he was building connections with nearby landlords, but back then, Hu had only met two landlords.

That was typical. In the first round, meeting two or three landlords was the norm at best.

'The bread scent must have played a role too.'

Even so, there were too many.

Yesterday, six landlords had approached Hu, and four of them had traded with him.

That meant a fair number of players had gathered nearby.

'Why are there so many?'

God Hand was a game infamous for its terrible balance.

Why are most games considered difficult?

Games that clearly tell you what to do, with clear quests and objectives, might be challenging in execution, but not in progression.

But God Hand wasn’t like that.

'Insane freedom.'

You could do anything.

But that also meant you didn’t know what to do.

It meant anything was possible.

No right answers—and every choice had consequences you had to handle alone.

Thus, the fact that there were many landlords nearby wasn’t something to overlook.

A small clue could change the future—your path, your way of life, and your entire strategy.

The reason there were so many landlords could imply that the influence of the Pandemonium

Kingdom was strong here, or it could mean there were settlements nearby.

Either way—

'An opportunity.'

Hu understood the most crucial thing.

So, what was needed now?

'Problems that arise when there are too many people.'

And the opportunities that came from such crowds.

In the first round, Hu had believed it was best to just go with the flow.

But now?

'Maybe it’s time to start devouring, bit by bit.'

Why not?

What was needed for that?

'Land and manpower.'

There was no need for anyone particularly skilled.

Just someone who could plant seeds, draw water, and follow orders obediently.

In other words, ordinary serfs.

Nameless serfs who would sow the seeds, fetch water, and run errands.

Advisor Rader wasn’t a farmer, and Baker had become a proper baker.

"Krurr."

Krurr, curled up with her head buried, would probably devour all the seeds if given the chance.

"Krurr."

Hu paused his planting, tore off some leftover bread, and handed it to Krurr.

She wasn’t the same hostile Krurr from a few days ago.

He fed her bread, scratched her back, and played with her to keep her from getting bored.

"Good job, that’s it. Our little Krurr."

"Krurr!"

"Krurr, drink some water while you eat. You’ll choke."

Hu cared for her like a child.

"A good landlord doesn’t show favoritism toward their serfs," Rader muttered.

It was a petty remark for an advisor.

Hu ignored Rader’s words and focused on Krurr, even wiping her face clean with spilled water.

It had been exactly ten days since he first sold bread made from the wheat he had harvested.

Some of the wheat he had planted had grown, and Baker prepared the dough and fired up the oven.

It was time to start today’s business.

"Bread’s going in the oven."

Their eyes met, and Baker spoke.

Hu nodded.

It was just like before.

The savory smell of baking bread began to spread from Hu’s land to the surrounding area.

'Come on.'

Hu waited.

The wait wasn’t long.

Out of the six landlords nearby, four had traded with him—two had declined.

'One was sly, and the other was deep in thought.'

The person approaching now was one of those two.

"Let’s trade."

A young girl, her face covered in freckles, appeared.

She was Western, small in stature, with a round face that gave her a cute appearance.

She emerged from the mist.

As she leaned forward, Hu thought,

'Cute, but what does a face matter?'

Looks meant nothing.

Even Joo Hee-yeon was considered a top-tier beauty.

But in the end, she was one of those who had stabbed Hu in the back.

In front of bread, everyone was equal.

"I’ll trade three loaves of bread for one serf."

She continued speaking.

She must have been deeply conflicted.

There were dark circles under her eyes—had she lost sleep over it?

That kind of caution was admirable.

This was the world of God Hand, and exploring the unknown demanded caution.

'Seven points.'

Hu mentally scored her attitude and then greeted her with a warm smile.

"Welcome, customer. You’ve made a wise decision."

Just as Baker appeared, carrying freshly baked bread.

"Three loaves."

He blew on the hot bread and handed it over with his bare hands, and she quickly reached out to take it.

The trade went smoothly. Their palms met.

One serf for three loaves of bread.

Three loaves, each the size of a milk loaf, were exchanged, and a dim-witted-looking serf became Hu's property.

"Please come again next time."

When Hu spoke, she bit her lips a few times, clutching the bread, and then said,

"Lota."

Was this really the right choice?

She seemed to be questioning herself.

She was someone who couldn’t hide her expressions.

"Just call me Hu."

Hu flashed his business smile.

Lota nodded and turned around.

She disappeared into the mist in no time.

Soon after, the sly neighbor appeared.

He was an East Asian man, a middle-aged guy with a bulging belly.

From the way he spoke, he seemed to be Korean.

His unshaven beard was scruffy, and his small, narrow eyes were slit-like.

"Let’s help each other out as fellow countrymen."

This was the same guy who had pestered him before and left in frustration.

He brought three serfs trailing behind him.

Hu greeted him with a soft smile.

"Welcome."

"Let’s share some bread."

Trade was another form of communication.

Communication meant conveying intentions to one another.

Misunderstandings could arise during this process, and hostility could surface too.

Usually, it would end with a good deal, but this man was no different from before.

Actually, there was something new this time.

'He didn’t have such a menacing serf back then.'

One of the serfs standing behind him had a fierce and threatening aura.

"Hey, I said let’s share some bread."

"Share bread?"

"Hey, shouldn’t we help each other out? You seem younger than me, so I’ll speak informally.

One moment, I wake up in this weird land, and there’s no food. Now they’re telling me to farm?

Ridiculous, right?"

Who said Hu wanted to hear his grumbling? Hu stayed silent, and the man continued speaking.

"In times like this, wouldn’t it be better to help each other out?"

Out of the three serfs, one had a particularly striking appearance.

Thick eyelids, one ear half-torn, and prominent cheekbones—a solid, sturdy-looking body.

With looks like that, it was hard to believe he was just a serf.

'Definitely sly.'

Even though he had three serfs, this guy had come alone the first time.

It meant he had come alone to scout.

How sneaky—hiding what he had and coveting what others owned.

"The trade stands: three loaves of bread for one serf."

Hu said with a smile, and the man scowled.

"Do you really have to be so stiff, kid?"

Kid?

Still smiling, Hu replied,

"I don’t have any brothers."

"…You’re a really uptight one, huh?"

An advisor assists their landlord—typically by supporting the landlord’s intentions.

Even if Rader didn’t want to dig, he would do it if Hu asked.

That was what an advisor did.

"Can I just take his bread?"

If a landlord asked their advisor this question,

The advisor would likely answer,

"You could, but it would breed resentment. You might as well kill him instead."

So, this advisor would probably suggest the same thing.

The other two were ordinary serfs, meaning the fierce-looking guy was likely the advisor.

'Is that good luck or bad?'

A combat-type advisor.

Hu didn’t know his exact trait, but if left alone, this man would probably end up raiding those around him.

A landlord didn’t necessarily have to focus on cultivating land and nurturing it.

"Actually, I’m very open-minded."

Hu said casually.

At those words, the man’s eyebrow twitched, his face clearly showing irritation.

"Hey, I said let’s share some bread!"

"No, thanks."

"Lord Landowner, this is dangerous."

Rader whispered from behind. Was this bastard’s specialty whispering nonsense in his ear?

Ignoring him, Hu continued,

"You gonna try something?"

Straight to the point.

Why beat around the bush when the goal was obvious?

"Why are you making things complicated? Just share a few loaves, that’s all."

"Lord Landowner, this is disadvantageous. We have no combat-ready personnel on our land."

The advisor did his duty, but it was only half the advice Hu needed.

'Is this guy even useful at all?'

Maybe it would be better to use him like an ox substitute for life instead of finding a real one.

Hu started doubting Rader’s worth.

It wasn’t just a lack of insight—he didn’t even have any instinct.

Given what Hu had done so far, it was obvious. Why would he be so confident?

Of course, he had something to rely on.

He had always assessed situations faster than the advisor and acted accordingly.

So now, maybe there was something in play again.

But Rader had none of that. Not even a speck of trustworthiness.

Hu pulled out a stone knife from his pocket.

"…You’re relying on that?"

The man scoffed when he saw it.

It was sharp, sure. But it was just a stone knife—good for cutting grain but useless for slashing or stabbing someone.

"You’ll regret this."

Hu muttered,

"Regret what? Hey, this is awkward to say…"

The man mumbled.

Saying "Hey, hey" constantly seemed to be a habit of his—annoying to hear.

"Hand over the bread or die."

A bandit.

The man had turned into a bandit.

The fierce-looking advisor stepped forward and opened his mouth.

"Bread."

Hu waited.

Landlords surrounded by the initial black mist were protected early on.

If someone tried to rob another’s goods recklessly, they could end up with a bounty on their head.

This was Pandemonium Kingdom territory, so an investigator from there would likely come to assess the situation.

It was obvious what would happen next.

So, making the first move was not an option. Killing wasn’t a good solution either.

Hu didn’t want to draw attention from the Pandemonium Kingdom just yet.

Subdue—that was the decision Hu made.

[The landlord shows hostility. You are now in combat.]

The friendly system notification summarized the situation.

It was the confirmation he had been waiting for.

If he didn’t start the fight, there would be no bounty.

Now it was self-defense.

"Krurr."

The girl, who had been quietly observing from a corner, pushed off the ground at Hu’s word.

The fierce-looking advisor took a step forward, but Krurr, using both hands and feet, suddenly closed the fifteen-step distance in an instant.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

The sound of her feet pounding the ground rushed past Hu’s ears.

In a flash, she somersaulted in front of Hu. The holes in her tattered shirt fluttered in the air.

Her powerful back muscles defied gravity as they flexed before his eyes.

At that very moment,

Krurr twisted her body mid-air and slapped the fierce advisor across the face.

Smack!

"Ugh!"

With a scream, the man's neck twisted sharply.

Krurr, after striking his face, landed on the ground and immediately sprang back up like a coiled spring.

Thud—Krurr's head slammed into the man's chin as she launched herself forward.

Smack!

"Argh!"

A spray of blood scattered through the air.

Did he bite his tongue without realizing it?

It wasn’t over yet.

As his torso fell backward from the blow to his chin, Krurr climbed onto him.

Without pause, she threw punch after punch.

Krurr's fists relentlessly pummeled the man's face.

Smack, smack, smack!

The man collapsed straight onto his back. Even as he hit the ground with a loud thud, his face was struck at least five more times.

The moment he fell, he passed out cold.

His body twitched slightly but showed no signs of movement.

A suffocating silence descended on the surroundings.

"Krurr—"

Only Krurr, burning with hostility on Hu's side, remained.

Left alone, she would probably beat him until he died.

"Whoa, whoa, Krurr, don’t kill him."

Breaking the silence, Hu spoke.

As he said this, he tore off a piece of bread prepared for trading.

"Krurr!"

When Hu called her name, Krurr swiftly turned her head to check on him.

She then approached Hu’s side.

God Hand was a world where various races coexisted.

Among them, there were indeed combat-oriented races—races born solely for battle.

Beastkin.

One of the few shapeshifting and combat-focused races in God Hand.

A race that was the worst possible match for a Jealous Advisor.

Hostile to enemies.

Utterly loyal to their master.

That was why that woman had been desperate to get rid of her.

Young beastkin were similar to wild animals. Until they developed a bond, they wouldn’t listen to their master's words at all.

A Jealous Advisor wouldn’t want a beastkin, who required affection, to stay close to their master.

Moreover, Krurr was female—more than enough reason for jealousy.

Why had Hu spent ten days comforting and playing with Krurr?

"Good job."

Krurr, feeling Hu’s touch, buried her head against his leg.

Everyone had their purpose.

If Rader was like an ox,

Krurr was the sword that would protect this land.

"Hey."

Hu spoke up.

The pot-bellied man, who had blindly trusted his advisor, looked at Hu.

Hu smiled.

"Want to die?"

"…Hey—"

"If you say 'hey' one more time, I’ll cut off your tongue."

Spinning the stone knife in his hand, Hu's words made the man shut his mouth.

"Now then, shall we start the trade?"

Hu said.