Industrial Cthulhu: Starting as an Island Lord

It was said that High Priest Josh had once taken a few men, robbed a ship of goods from Castel, and came to Blood Harbor to make his way. He had done everything from being a chamber of commerce president to a cult leader, and during the two rebellions of the Life Mother Church, he had sheltered many people. When the war ended, he somehow escaped retribution.

Now, he was even more influential among the lower class. Even when the decrees of the Prince could not reach the slums, a few words from Josh would have countless people scrambling to carry them out.

Logically speaking, such a figure who could maneuver through both the black and white worlds should have inspired only fear. But oddly enough, his reputation among the lower class was not bad.

Even desperate paupers who had nowhere else to go could get porridge if they went to him. Recently, he had even donated many houses as classrooms for the Literacy Class. Most importantly, he was willing to uphold fairness for the poor.

Yami often heard the people in the slums say: when the law could no longer protect you, there was still Lord Josh.

But how could such a powerful figure, with hands reaching into heaven, be connected to the little girl before his eyes? Could it be that she was special somehow?

Yami carefully examined her up and down, which only made Gwen’s gaze grow increasingly vigilant.

Hmm. It did not look like it. It must be that Lord Josh was simply kindhearted.

“Ah, don’t worry about all that! So, Brother Yami, are you coming or not? If you don’t, we’ll just find someone else!”

“I’ll come!”

“Alright, then can you fry fish?”

“No, I can only eat. But I can also do accounting! Purchasing, stocking, all that isn’t a problem for me!” Yami noticed the unfriendly looks in their eyes, quickly bent his thin arms, and tried hard to squeeze out some semblance of muscles.

The next day, people heading to classes at the docks were surprised to find a little stall set up by the roadside.

A crude signboard hung above the stall: 【Yami’s Fried Fish & Fries】

In the old days of Blood Harbor, such a signboard would most likely have had drawings of fries and fried fish. But now, many people had gone through the Literacy Class. Clumsily, they could piece together the meaning of the words written on it.

A slightly frail-looking man handled the goods and accounts—in fact, only the goods. You just needed to tell him what you bought, and he could calculate the cost instantly without even lifting his eyelids.

On a worn-out chair beside him sat an old woman. She cut the potatoes into strips and marinated the fish in a basin.

At the oil pan, two little girls were frying. One clearly had the features of a Northlander, with long white hair and white eyes. The other had flaxen hair braided into pigtails and always wore a smile.

The two of them each stood on a stone block, sometimes having to rise on tiptoe just to finish frying, which made people worry.

Yet their expressions were so serious that no one could bring themselves to disturb them.

At first, few paid attention to the shabby little stall. But the moment the fries and fish hit the hot oil, the sizzling sound mixed with the rising fragrance, and people’s feet involuntarily turned toward it.

The golden, crispy fries bubbled as soon as they entered the pan. After waiting a little, once their tips began to brown, they were scooped out, wrapped in newspaper, and placed steaming into one’s hands, along with a small packet of sauce made from sweet fruit.

The fruit was not fully ripe, carrying a sweet-and-sour tang. Dipped onto the fries and sent into the mouth, the crunchy crust crackled between one’s teeth, while beneath it the soft potato blended with the tangy sauce, enough to make one forget all worries.

Such a large portion of fries cost no more than one-fifth of a Leo. If you were willing to spend a little more, you could add a few pieces of fried fish. Even then, it would not exceed one Leo, enough to eat happily for half a day.

And afterward, you could even lick your fingers while flipping through the newspaper used to wrap the food. But it was best not to drink water while doing this. To save costs, Yami’s stall used newspapers privately printed by Nini, and the articles on them were enough to make one choke half to death.

The stall quickly drew a constant stream of people. Because it was near the classrooms of the Literacy Class, many familiar faces came by. Unsociable Yami simply kept his head down and left everything to Beatrice and Gwen.

This avoidance might have been shameful, but it was effective.

Most of the customers were Castel folk. This was the Lower District, where Blood Harbor’s big figures never came, and the people here had little money.

Yami even saw Zoe come to buy a few bags of fries, saying she wanted to share them with colleagues. Watching her burn her mouth yet still stuff fried fish into it, Yami felt a little bewildered—was it really that delicious?

And so, Gwen and Beatrice gained yet another task: driving away Yami when he tried to sneak food.

Beatrice was one thing—once she got busy, she became dizzy and was easy to fool. But Gwen watched him like a hawk. After much bargaining, he only managed to get half a bag of fries to taste.

——That was how slapdash their stall had been. Not only had the signboard been hastily written, but even the fries they made had never been tested before being sold. One could only say that these first-time entrepreneurs truly had guts.

Fortunately, everything went smoothly.

After being busy for a while, the number of customers around the stall decreased. Instead, there were now many people blowing on the fried fish while trying hard to shove it into their mouths.

Yami finally was no longer so flustered. He pounded his sore waist. Although he had not done particularly heavy work, he had still managed to tire himself out.

“One portion of fried fish, one portion of fries, and extra tomato sauce.”

“Customer, we don’t have tomato sauce, only sweet fruit sauce, and the amount given per portion of fries is fixed!” Beatrice said seriously.

“Then I want two portions of fries. That way, I’ll get two packets of sauce.”

“Alright.”

Beatrice skillfully dropped the fries into the pan, only to find that Gwen had not moved. She nudged Gwen with her elbow. The white-haired girl finally moved.

“New friends?”

The newcomer casually struck up a conversation with Gwen. Beatrice looked up. It was a young man with dark hair, someone she did not know.

“This one is.” Gwen pointed the frying tongs at Beatrice, then swung them down sharply, striking the hand that was trying to sneak fries. “This one is not.”

Yami covered his hand and grimaced in pain, retreating two steps. Then he widened his eyes in surprise.

Hughes wagged a finger at him. Yami quickly covered his mouth, glanced around, and carefully sat back down.

Hughes found it amusing. With a nostalgic look, he gazed at the fries in the pan and continued talking to Gwen.

“I heard Josh mention you before. Which town in the Northlands are you from? Do you still remember?”

Gwen shook her head. “I don’t remember. After my parents left, I stayed there alone for a long time. By the time I left, the entire village had no one left.”

Beatrice worriedly sneaked a glance at her friend. Only after seeing little sadness on her face did she breathe a sigh of relief. Then she puffed her cheeks and looked rather crossly at the young man buying food.

“Well… I have a small question.” Hughes watched the two girls wrap the fries. “In the Northlands, are there many people with the name Gwen?”

Gwen suddenly lifted her head. Her white eyes met Hughes’s gaze, and for a moment, time seemed to freeze.

“Not many. I’ve never heard of anyone else called Gwen.”

“I see.” Hughes deftly took the sauce packet from one of the two bags of fries and poured it over. Then he handed the other bag of fries, free of sauce, to Beatrice.

“This bag of fries is for you~”

“Eh?” Beatrice froze as she held it.