Chapter 145
"You're both overthinking things to the point of overheating."
"Liberta, you're going too far."
"No excuses allowed."
Nel was desperately thinking about business matters, while Amina began pondering what to do after hearing the word "hell."
"Pshhh"
Several minutes later, the two girls collapsed limply onto the sofa, as if verbally expressing the sound of steam escaping.
"Since this situation was caused by Liberta-sama's story, please advise us on how to handle it."
Compared to me, whose essence is that of a gamer, this was indeed content too heavy for Nel and Amina to contemplate.
"Hmm... I suppose we should let them rest for now. I'll handle figuring out how they can acquire their jobs, and we can set aside the matter of Ingrid's and my jobs for later."
"Yes, that would be best."
"Then for now, let's think about what we can do before they regain consciousness."
So who should think about it? Naturally, it has to be me—the very person who set this chain of events in motion.
Ingrid soaked a towel in cold water, wrung it out, and placed it over Nel and Amina's eyes. The coolness soothed their overheated brains, and the girls' mouths relaxed into comfortable expressions.
Shifting my gaze from the two of them to the blackboard, I picked up a piece of chalk and began writing.
The All-Purpose Merchant and the Supreme Diva.
Acquiring these two jobs at once.
Statistically, it's not impossible. But in terms of certainty, it's fair to say the odds are slim.
In that case, prioritizing efficiency would be best.
"Which means the course of action should be..."
I moved the chalk methodically, listing the necessary conditions like mathematical formulas.
The acquisition conditions for the two jobs Nel and Amina are aiming for don't overlap, but some elements can be combined.
Nel's requirement of selling ten or more types of goods can be covered by merchandise sold during Amina's song offerings. As for new products, this world has no such thing as idol goods, so those would qualify.
In terms of earnings, Amina's live performance fees could cover the shortfall.
That means Nel would have to take the lead in organizing Amina's live events as a viable business venture.
"Hosting an event to attract nobles and commoners—that would be the quickest and most efficient method."
A silver lining in this situation is that I've built up quite a few favors with the Duke.
I could simply demand his help with the event and likely achieve our goals, but that would strain our relationship in the long run, so that's out of the question.
"Hmm... I suppose some groundwork is needed here."
In that case, perhaps preparing a somewhat special item as a gift would help. But procuring unique weapons or accessories would be troublesome.
Gathering enough would be a hassle, and the material costs would be no joke.
If I prepare something too good, they might start cozying up to me excessively, leading to complications.
So, something decently useful but not extravagant...
"Ah."
As I scanned the room for anything suitable, my gaze stopped at one particular spot.
A single door—an utterly ordinary, unremarkable door.
Behind it lay the bathroom.
Why did my eyes linger there?
"...Let's make toilet paper."
Because I was struck by an overwhelming sense of inconvenience regarding that very subject.
This is another world. While special abilities called "skills" exist, that doesn't mean modern living standards are easily achievable—far from it, in fact.
The infrastructure simply isn't there.
Magic tools can provide water, fire, and light, but such things are beyond the reach of commoners.
Water must be drawn from wells, fire comes from firewood, and lighting relies on candles or lamps. Life is so inconvenient that some people specifically take "daily life skills" just to cope.
"Toilet paper, you say?""What kind of item is that? Judging from the word 'toilet' and your gaze, I assume it's related to the lavatory?"
This world's toilet situation is woefully behind the times. Heated toilet seats? Bidets? Nonexistent.
Even a traditional Japanese-style toilet would be a godsend compared to what's available here.
Our house uses a pit latrine, cleaned every few days by a specialized service.
Humans eat, and what goes in must come out.
Unlike some idols of old who claimed they never used the bathroom, we're not mythical creatures.
And when nature calls, humans naturally want to clean up afterward.
Which brings us to my statement and the responses from Ingrid and Claudia.
Yes, in this world, people use dried grass of uncertain origin for post-business cleanup.
It gets the job done—technically. But from a modern perspective, it's tolerable at best, and something you'd rather not endure.
"...Yes, it's related."
I'd love to develop a bidet too, but unfortunately, we lack both players skilled enough for precision crafting and enchanters capable of supplying clean water continuously.
Once our organization grows, training production-focused personnel might be worth considering.
As my thoughts threatened to wander, I refocused on how to explain toilet paper.
Simply calling it "hygienic paper" would suffice, but given its purpose...
In this world, paper is valuable. Using it for post-toilet cleanup might seem insane.
Yet once someone experiences that soft texture, no one would willingly return to grass.
In that case...
"What exactly is it?""The proof is in the pudding. I'll make some so you can try it yourself.""You can make it right now?""It'll take about three days to prepare. But yes, it's doable."
Rather than giving a passionate sales pitch, bringing a physical sample would be far more convincing.
This would solve Nel's new product requirement, make life more convenient, and serve as both a bargaining chip and a business opportunity—killing not two, but four birds with one stone.
Previously, I couldn't have made it due to lack of equipment, materials, and skills.
But defeating the Mandrake solved that problem.
Toilet paper is made from pulp, fibers extracted from wood or grass. Roughly speaking, the process involves breaking down pulp in water, spreading it thinly on a mesh screen using a paper machine, drying it, and rolling it onto large spools.
The general flow seems feasible, but unfortunately, paper machines don't exist in this world.
What we do have is an alchemy workbench modified for alchemical purposes.
How does the Mandrake material factor in? It allows us to add wood-processing capabilities to new alchemy equipment.
Like in crafting games where tossing materials inexplicably upgrades your workstation—FBO has something similar through facility expansions.
Specifically, using Mandrake materials to craft parts for the alchemy workbench enables processing of materials up to Class 6 (the Mandrake's tier).
In other words, we can now make parts capable of handling Class 6 wood materials—necessary for turning plants into pulp and creating that soft yet durable toilet paper. Higher-tier parts also reduce production costs.
Originally, I considered making a wand from Mandrake materials, but upgrading the alchemy bench would see more use. Improving wood processing versatility isn't a bad idea either.
The catch? Amina lacks the skills to make those parts.
Does that mean it's impossible? Not necessarily.
Within the royal capital's alchemy circles, five individuals stand above all others in golem crafting—earning them the dual titles of "eccentrics" and "madmen."
Golem crafting requires expertise in alchemical equipment, which they possess in spades.
"Ingrid, once Nel and Amina recover, have them mass-produce rice toner. Claudia, could you come with me?"
The question is: which of the five should we ask? The drunkard is best avoided—he only awakens after drinking, and his time limit is too short.
That leaves four options: Smoke, Sugar, Song, or Cosmetics.
"Well, the narcissist is the obvious choice."
Our destination was decided—a man obsessed with cosmetics and narcissistic monologues. He's relatively easy to handle, and since he's always gazing at his reflection, his whereabouts are predictable.
Bringing our stock of rice toner and explaining the toilet paper concept should suffice to secure his cooperation.
"Ah, Claudia. He's an eccentric, but not a pervert, so please don't punch him on sight. He's... peculiar, but skilled.""If you're saying that, he must be truly suspicious.""He's just a narcissist who loves himself."
I gave the warning to prevent Claudia from attacking him. First impressions might understandably mistake him for a creep.
"What exactly are we asking of this... eccentric?""To modify the alchemy workbench. Alchemy excels at material processing."
Alchemy is arguably the most versatile production skill—capable of creating golems, potions, refining ores, and encompassing nearly all forms of crafting.
One might wonder why skills like carpentry, cooking, or medicine are needed when alchemy covers so much. But while alchemy is versatile, it's not as specialized as other skills.
Jack of all trades, master of none—it's better suited as a foundational skill.
Alchemy plus something else forms the core of production builds.
Of course, some items can only be made via alchemy, and it outperforms in certain areas.
Material processing—especially decomposition—becomes trivial with an alchemy workbench.
This convenience leads FBO players to create parodies of real-world items.
Toilet paper is one such example. Despite bathrooms being non-functional in-game, some players make it as a joke.
Some even profit from it—absurd yet amusing.
"What exactly are you planning to make? As a guardian, I can't overlook dangerous creations.""Something women need more than men. It's of questionable combat utility, but invaluable in daily life."
Is this purely self-serving? Absolutely.
Life with toilet paper is simply better.
"This remains confidential, I presume?""Yes. And please stop glaring—it's genuinely harmless."
I'm avoiding mentioning its use for sanitation to prevent backlash, but Claudia remains wary due to my track record.
I brought this on myself. Even knowing that, I wish there was a better way.
As we navigated the alleys, I nearly cracked under pressure and considered explaining. Then I spotted a figure rushing toward us.
Dressed in a light beige robe with a hood obscuring their face and build, their constant backward glances radiated suspicion.
"......""Is this alright?""As a priestess, I don't insert myself into every troubled situation."
A protagonist would ask, "Is something wrong?" But my bad instincts made me step aside and let them pass.
Claudia followed suit, prompting my question.
"Besides, they seemed to be avoiding contact with me too.""You saw their face?"
Church members here are kind but not pushy. They help those in need but don't force their aid.
Thus, Claudia ignoring the robed figure was unexpected yet understandable if she sensed their reluctance.
"No, but I glimpsed beautiful pink hair.""Eh"
I thought the conversation was over, but Claudia's mention of the hair color made me exclaim.
"Is something wrong?""Nothing, just realizing we made the right call. Let's go!""Why the sudden hurry?"
Claudia tilted her head in confusion, unaware.
But I knew.
Among FBO players, there's a semi-serious saying about pink-haired characters:
"Leave the pink-haired ones alone, and you'll avoid trouble."