Dimensional Supermarket - Chapter 85

The slaves are busy building their own houses. In the forest, trees are abundant. Although confused at first, they still follow Kane’s instructions—cutting wood and constructing shelters.

Wild animals roam the forest, and when the stewards are in charge, torches must be lit and people assigned to keep watch at night. To prevent escape, the slaves are locked in cramped wooden sheds during rest. There is barely any room to move. Even when sleeping, they can’t lie down properly and must curl up, squeezed together.

Kane believes that what the slaves need most is a larger space to rest.

Besides, building a house isn’t difficult. The simplest wooden house doesn’t even require a deep foundation. With so many people working together, it can be built in just a few days.

Moreover, these slaves have experience from building houses before. And this time, they’re building for themselves—with full meals and water provided. Surprisingly, no one slacks off. Even without supervision, they work hard from sunrise to sunset.

If most of them didn’t suffer from night blindness, they might continue working even in the dark.

Kane’s initial worries are half relieved.

The day after the shelters are finished, Kane selects more than ten people to descend the mountain with him.

Among those chosen is Ira.

Walking with the group, Ira follows behind Kane several times but never dares to speak. His mouth opens and closes repeatedly, hesitation written all over his face.

Another “freeman” beside him notices and pokes his side, whispering, “What’s up? You want to talk to the Lord God’s Messenger?”

Ira also whispers, “Doesn’t he look familiar? Like someone we knew?”

The freeman is puzzled. “Who?”

Ira replies, “The one who ran away.”

The freeman thinks about it and looks even more confused. “Didn’t he die? Besides, how could a slave become a Messenger?”

Ira knows the runaway slave is said to be dead. And if the Messenger and that man have anything in common, it’s just the red hair. But red hair is common on this continent—two out of ten people might have it.

The Messenger’s back is slightly hunched, but not in a noticeable way.

Still, Ira can’t shake the feeling that the Messenger is that man. He purses his lips and resolves to find the courage to ask when they reach their destination.

Kane, meanwhile, knows Ira is watching him. He guesses that Ira might have recognized him, but he doesn’t plan to reveal the truth.

That is the command of Lord Moon God.

If the slaves recognize him, fine. But if not, Kane isn’t to say anything.

People don’t envy the distant; they envy those close by. If they find out that Kane was once a slave like them, who knows what thoughts might fester?

Kane doesn’t fully understand it—but he knows to obey. Whatever Lord Moon God says, he does.

Even if it makes him look like a fool, Kane would rather be a loyal fool than a clever man who disobeys orders.

When they reach the place Lord Moon God designates, Kane finds the delivery hidden behind a tree: more than twenty wheelbarrows full of farm tools and seeds. A small booklet of detailed instructions is left behind, knowing Kane can read.

Holding the booklet like a priceless treasure, Kane looks off into the distance with tearful eyes.

He doesn’t know whether Lord Moon God and the others have already left—or if they’re still watching him from somewhere.

• ··

Ryan is extremely busy. He donates all his wealth, even the golden bowl passed down from the king to his ancestors. But the box of gems weighs heavily on his mind.

Together, the gems are worth enough to rival a small kingdom’s fortune.

Here, gems are already immensely valuable. Nothing surpasses them. Exchanging them is easy—figuring out what to exchange them for is the hard part.

“Write to my uncle,” Ryan says to Karl. “Have him come in person.”

He doesn’t want to contact the two nearby lords. Something this valuable—serving the gods—is better left to family.

“Send this too.” Ryan selects the largest gem, even bigger than the centerpiece on the king’s crown, deep red in color. While gems aren’t rare, large ones are precious—most are small like grains of sand, and polishing consumes materials.

Only large gems are worth cutting, and therefore have high value.

The nobles no longer seek gold and silver—they have all the wealth of their territories. What they desire now are rarities.

Rare beauties. Rare gems. The rarer, the more valuable.

Ryan stares at the gem in his hand. If it were the old him, he would have hidden it away greedily. But now, gems mean little.

His heart is now full of devotion to the divine.

“Tell him to come quickly,” Ryan says. “If he can’t, have my cousin come.”

Karl nods. “Yes, Lord.”

Ryan suddenly asks, “Karl, what do you think the temple is like?”

Karl replies based on the books, “A place of no poverty—only wealth and glory.”

Ryan nods, says nothing more, and turns to look out the window.

He gazes at the mountain, where the Moon God’s Messenger lives. The boy looks so young, yet he refuses to come down and enjoy life. Instead, he stays with the slaves, lifting wooden beams and laboring with them.

Ryan can’t understand it. As a Messenger, without the Moon God physically watching over him, why bother with thankless tasks?

He truly can’t understand.

On the mountain, Kane wipes the sweat from his brow. The slaves’ houses are finally built. They are simple wooden huts, topped with woven leaves. The leaves are easy to find in the woods. Every local knows how to weave them flat and thick, stacking them for waterproofing. Unless it pours heavily, the roof doesn’t leak.

The homes are humble, but the slaves are happy. Finally, they can stretch their arms and legs while sleeping. Although still crowded, they no longer have to curl up.

Now they are plowing the land. Half the area is already cleared. With proper tools, their progress is fast.

The hoes surprise them most—they dig easily, the soil soft and yielding.

Though they are tired, it’s no longer the kind of exhaustion that requires whips to keep them going.

Not to mention, they are finally well-fed.

Kane watches as the slaves bring over barrels of food. He shouts, “Time to eat! Don’t forget to wash your bowls and don’t drink unboiled water!”

Their water is filtered through sand, stone, charcoal, and fine yarn, as taught by Lord Moon God. But it still has to be boiled before drinking.

Lord Moon God once said: A man can survive seven days without food, but only three without water. Water is life—but also carries death. Invisible pollutants—excrement from insects, birds, fish, or even humans—can kill silently.

Kane remembers how many slaves used to die without reason. They just quietly pass away. Now, he understands that even a cup of water can be fatal.

So from day one, he forbids the slaves from drinking unboiled water and drills the Lord Moon God’s words into them again and again.

The slaves don’t fully understand—but they know it’s an order from Lord Moon God.

And an order is to be followed.

The slaves line up with bowls in hand, eagerly waiting for their turn.

Ira holds his handmade wooden bowl, heavy but precious.

It’s the first “property” he owns since becoming a slave.

When it’s finally Ira’s turn, he swallows instinctively, eyes locked on the bucket of food. Inside are steamed sweet potatoes. He’s eaten them before—break one open, and the inside is bright orange. They’re fluffy, sweet, and fragrant.

There is no meat, but each bowl comes with vegetable soup rich with oil.

Two sweet potatoes and a bowl of soup fill their stomachs and give them strength.

Before, they only eat once a day. Now, they have two meals—one in the morning, one in the afternoon. The morning meal is even bigger, with three sweet potatoes.

Compared to the past, this is a life only found in the temple.

Before this, Ira can’t even remember the last time he eats anything sweet.

The last time is when his mother finds a beehive. She lets herself be stung so he can have honey. Her face swells up so badly she becomes unrecognizable—and the lord beats her for it.

But now, Ira no longer remembers the pain—only the warmth of being with her.

He tucks his sweet potatoes into his clothes—he has clothes now—and fills his bowl with soup.

Then he sits on the ground with others to eat.

“This sweet potato is so sweet!” one says. No one gobbles food anymore—they peel slowly, chatting as they eat.

“The God’s Messenger says sweet potatoes are easy to grow. Soon, we’ll be growing and eating them ourselves.”

“Even the leaves can be eaten. He says if he’d brought leaves too, we’d have had one more dish.”

Ira bites into his steaming sweet potato and exhales softly.

He no longer cares whether the God’s Messenger is the red-haired slave or not. He only says, “It would be great if Lord Moon God never left.”

The others are stunned for a moment, then echo him.

“Yes, it would be great if Lord Moon God never left.”

“If only Lord Moon God had come earlier.”

Now that they’ve had a taste of happiness, they never want to go back to the life of livestock.

Having once been treated as human, they can never go back to being cattle and horses.