Helping with Adventurer Party Management - Chapter 323

I want an in-house artist.

That’s my little wish these days.

It seems Gorgoro has been working hard to improve the printing machines and methods lately, but every time they make progress, they ask for a new picture.

When I ask, “Can’t we just use the one I drew before?”

They respond with things like, “I applied too much pressure, and the picture got crushed,” or “I changed the ink type, so I need something new.”

Once, they even said, “I left the picture in a chemical, and it melted.”

What kind of terrifying chemicals are they using to melt copper?

They must be using it for surface treatment, but the chemicals in this world seem to have scary effects.

I have some ideas, so I might need to start training an artist within the company.

I don’t have the know-how to train an artist, but just like the church supports artists, I could support the craftsmen in learning to draw.

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“So, I’m offering an allowance to anyone who can accurately copy this.”

I announce this during a greeting session with the craftsmen one morning.

In my hand is the skull of a demon wolf, which I’ve borrowed from the Baron, and the craftsmen look at it with a mix of curiosity and unease.

“I don’t want this to interfere with our main work, so I’ll adjust the schedule for those who want to participate. I’ll provide the necessary parchment and tools.”

Some of the craftsmen perk up at the words “increase the allowance” and “provide tools.”

I don’t think anything will happen right away, but in the long run, I want to foster a culture of interest in design and painting within the company.

As I watch the craftsmen get a bit excited, I feel like the day will come soon when we can train simple artists in-house.

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I am too optimistic.

My expectations are far too naive.

Many of the craftsmen are young and have never designed anything on their own.

The basic shoe design was brought from the original world, and the mass production design was outsourced to an old, established workshop.

When designing the cardinal’s shoes, the most experienced craftsman in the workshop, Gorgoro, did the work.

In other words, the young craftsmen can’t even write properly, and most have never held a pen before. They are starting from scratch.

I give the tools to a few craftsmen who express interest in drawing, intending to watch them work. However, when they grab the pens, they hold them like chopsticks, ready to start drawing. I quickly stop them.

“Wait, wait, wait! If you hold it like that, you won’t be able to see the tip of the pen while drawing!”

Embarrassed, the craftsman apologizes, “Sorry, I’ve hardly ever held a pen before…”

Uneasy, I ask a few others around me, and most of them are in the same boat.

I wouldn’t say they are poorly educated. In a world without compulsory education, it’s up to me, the employer, to educate the craftsmen.

Besides, they are skilled workers without needing to hold a pen.

Now that I think about it, when I trained people from overseas offices, I remember asking them to draw a simple picture. The results were disastrous.

People who had received specialized training were excellent, but the amateur drawings were a mess.

That might also be due to the lack of art education in compulsory schooling.

So it’s not about talent; it’s about education.

But that doesn’t change the fact that my easygoing plan to train in-house designers stumbles right from the start.