Volume 6 Chapter 62 Willow Barrel
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
In distribution, many things matter… well, a lot of things, really.
One of the most important is the box—the container that holds everything.
I don’t understand complicated economics, but from experience, boxes are key in shipping.
When I lived in Japan, I often shopped online, and before I knew it, my room was filled with cardboard boxes. Cardboard is light, strong, and easy to work with, so I folded and kept them, thinking I could use them for crafts. But my mom always threw them away before I could do much.
With a sharp cutter, I cut pieces and glued layers together with wood glue, making all kinds of things. A coat of varnish even made them waterproof. If I could find a way to mass-produce them here, I’d love to spread cardboard’s use. Maybe it could be made from wall barley’s wheat straw pulp.
Styrofoam boxes were also amazing. They act as cushions, keep things insulated, and block water. My older brother Ichiro once bought live crabs in a styrofoam fish box, and I took it as a cooler for fishing.
After losing its lid, I filled the box with water to keep medaka fish in the garden corner. When a hole appeared at the bottom, I turned it into a flowerpot. My sister got mad and threw it out because it looked messy.
Everything feels nostalgic. I wonder if Mom and everyone else are doing well.
Back in the Showa era, before cardboard and styrofoam were common, wooden boxes were the norm for transport. They’re still used now, but rarely seen in homes.
My family loved apples, and every winter we bought twenty-kilogram wooden boxes of them. Apples boxes are long and narrow, usually made of cedar boards, but expensive apples came in pine boxes.
After we finished eating the apples, I always kept the box. As a kid, I thought I could build anything with wooden boards. I made parakeet nests, sailboat models, shelves from the boxes, and if a box broke, I used the wood as firewood for camping.
I even secretly planned to collect many boxes and someday build a real yacht to sail to Hawaii.
Living in a developed world with such logistics feels like a cheat in this medieval-level world. It’s a kind of modern knowledge cheat. I thought I wasn’t getting a cheat, but the memory of another world itself is a cheat—so I’m not really losing.
For transport boxes, the material matters, but standard sizes are just as important.
Apples boxes follow a strict rule—the longer side is exactly twice the shorter side. Even when filled with heavy apples, stacking them alternately makes the pile strong and stable.
Loading them fully onto trucks or freight cars requires this kind of careful design. If boxes were just piled carelessly, the cargo would shift and collapse. The apples box standard is smart. Maybe it should be adopted here too.
In this world, barrels serve a similar role to apples boxes. Transport barrels are standardized so one person can carry them. Filled with water or ale, they’re heavy and hard to carry on the shoulder, but you can roll them.
Unlike most industrial products here, all barrels are nearly the same size for easy stacking. Skilled barrel craftsmen mass-produce them to these standards. If possible, I’d like to secure one of those craftsmen.
The problem is the barrel material. Forest resources are running low because of wall barley, so timber is getting expensive. Oak barrels, which Bacchus wants, cost so much they shock even Shea-Shea.
Willow wood barrels are a cheaper alternative now.
In Japan, willow barrels are decorative with long handles, but here, willow barrels are just regular barrels made from willow wood.
Trees by the water aren’t affected by wall barley. Willows grow fast and thick enough for barrels in about ten years. They spread naturally along rivers—broken branches drift downstream, take root, and grow new trees. The more you cut, the more grow. They’re like zombie plants.
Most trees along the canal banks, like street trees, are willows. I only realized they weren’t just weeping willows after Mr. Raoh, who loves stag beetles, told me that willow sap attracts beetles.
Because they propagate easily from cuttings, I want to plant willows near fish farms. I love woodworking, so if I get the timber, there’s a lot I want to make. In Japan, willow cutting boards are luxury items because willow wood is rare there. If I can get timber here, the first thing I’ll make is a cutting board.
Even though willow barrels cost less than oak ones, they still cost several gold coins each. If forests deplete further, willow wood prices will rise too. It’s not just barrels—most wagons are wood too. At this rate, logistics will face serious trouble.
I think the Merchant Guild should be worried.
As for me, I’m thinking about making metal barrels and wheelbarrows. It’ll cost a lot, but if timber keeps getting expensive, there will be demand.
Mr. Raoh wants a light truck, but that might be possible with magic tools. Well, that’s a problem for after the war.
* * *
Somehow, I ended up tasked with transporting four hundred barrels of supplies from the royal capital to the front lines. It’s all Bearded Baron’s fault.
In the upcoming war, it seems like a small job. For Bearded Baron, it was probably a way to mess with a newcomer he didn’t like. But since I made a fuss, it became a challenge I can’t lose.
From reading war chronicles, I know how important logistics are. Without food, you can’t fight. This world is no different.
Just like supply units never get songs from minstrels, those who hold the real power behind the scenes are plain and overlooked.
Burning enemy rations is heroic, but even when I deliver supplies safely, I get no thanks. It’s unfair.
Transporting four hundred barrels is tough. Without my cheat magic bag, it’d be impossible.
My magic bag has almost unlimited capacity. I’ve stuffed over a thousand barrels taken from Duke Mineley’s territory. On top of that, supplies bought for Sabroa Dukedom’s stockpile, fresh sake from pressing, and barrels that wouldn’t fit in the warehouse—altogether over three thousand barrels, maybe more.
In games, I always fill my inventory with items. I never throw things away because I think they’ll be useful someday. Like hoarding elixirs I never use before the final boss.
Most modern games have big inventories, but I still fill them up with useless items.
Thanks to my unlimited inventory, I don’t worry about capacity. That’s more important to me than being overpowered.
Even Sabroa’s warehouses, which I thought were big enough, filled up without me noticing.
Some warehouses are still empty, but this year I plan to harvest wall barley. Any extra will go into my magic bag.
Beyond Wolf Forest and past the Puppeteer’s Tower, wild wall barley covers the land. If I harvest it all, I can’t imagine how much it would be. Hundreds of thousands, maybe millions of tons? It would be waste not to store it in my bag.
Because of that, four hundred barrels are no big deal.
* * *
The Bearded Baron said he had some business to attend to, then pushed his subordinates to guide me away while he went elsewhere. He looked proud, probably unable to hide his irritation that I was bowing low before him—even if it was just an act. After all, he was a court noble; he must be used to hiding his true feelings.
The Bearded Baron’s subordinate was also an old man with a beard. Do all his close aides grow beards like him?
Following that bearded old man, we stepped into the inner part of the moat—an area forbidden to ordinary people. It looked a bit grimy, but I wondered if this was still considered part of the royal castle. If a siege happened, soldiers would probably be stationed here.
There was a story that when this city was the imperial capital of a great empire, it was protected by an impenetrable magical barrier. Most likely, the outer walls of the royal city were covered by some kind of shield. Later, the barrier towers were dismantled, and their stones were reused. The foundations of those towers still lay scattered throughout the city.
Because the moat area was restricted, those ruins were surprisingly well preserved. The magic formations carved into the foundation stones were still partially visible. It looked interesting—I should record this.
Though I had mapped the royal capital with Radar Scan, seeing it up close revealed new details. After generations of careless expansions, the city’s layout had become chaotic. Maybe it would be better if a capital city was relocated every so often to reset itself.
The Holy Kingdom’s army warehouse was behind the Royal Guard headquarters. It was an old stone building, plain but full of character—like something out of a fantasy movie set.
Inside, shelves reached the ceiling, piled high with countless barrels. Not just food rations, but also barrels full of arrows and bundles of swords. By rough count, there were thousands of barrels.
Just seeing this warehouse made me realize how formidable the Holy Kingdom’s strength still was. Their wealth, built over many years, was no joke.
I handed a scroll to an official who looked half-asleep and began the procedures to receive the barrels. This was where the real game started.
Dozens of transport wagons were already arranged by Baron Hige’s subordinates. It was a thoughtful gesture—maybe too thoughtful, which made me suspicious.
When I was first summoned, I might have fallen for tricks like this, but now I was wary. I’d become a ball of suspicion. I wouldn’t be fooled again.
Trusting nobles was always dangerous. Even children who couldn’t read knew that.
Court aristocrats were the worst—constantly scheming to pull each other down in the tangled web of politics. A handful of court nobles controlled the Holy Kingdom. In the Sabroa Dukedom, it was like Shea-Shea and Mr. Raoh running things between dozens of people.
According to Miss Floria, even with so many nobles, factions fought constantly, making it impossible to decide on even small matters.
The scroll listed 400 barrels—the supplies I was supposed to deliver to the front lines. Baron Hige bragged it took over ten days to decide what and how much to send.
There was plenty to mock about that.
Ten days ago, they were already preparing this shipment, even before Duke Mineley’s territory had fallen. Something smelled like a conspiracy.
It might seem incompetent to spend ten days just deciding on supplies, but that wasn’t it.
Sure, some hereditary nobles were foolish, but court aristocrats were chosen for their sharp minds. The Chancellor said more than half were terrifyingly clever.
So, was this some kind of game?
Maybe they were deliberately stalling the military to protect their own interests. Many court nobles didn’t own land, so securing a steady income was urgent.
Of course, if things went too far and the kingdom collapsed, it would be disaster. They were probably negotiating carefully, pushing the limits without breaking the balance.
These monstrous beings were part of the court nobility—even the Bearded Baron was one of them. In negotiations, he should have the upper hand, so no matter how foolish he looked, I couldn’t let my guard down.
The Bearded Baron had promised me control over the canal rights without permission. I think I tricked him into it, but he never meant to lose. He would interfere soon enough.
What he wanted most was for me to deliver the supplies properly to the front lines—but only after losing a few barrels, of course.
If even one barrel went missing, my special reward would be canceled. A total failure would also become his problem. So, he’d likely interfere just enough to cause some damage but not ruin everything.
If I were him, I’d sneak a few barrels away during transport. Since all barrels were identical, I could even swap them for fake ones.
The problem was knowing when he’d set the trap. Staying alert all the time was exhausting.
Maybe I should let him think he caught me early on, then relax a bit afterward. Of course, I’d only pretend to fall for it. I had no intention of losing this time—the canal rights were too important.
It was all about water—transportation luck. Ships. Maybe I’d get to deal with the dwarves again. That might be fun.
To make it easier for him, I’d act careless—play the fool who’s easy to trick. Basically, I just needed to act like a simple-minded Japanese person—that part was easy.
”Wow, you even arranged the carriages; that’s a huge help,” I said, handing a box of sweets from a nearby shop to the Bearded Baron. It wasn’t cheap, but I hadn’t hidden any coins inside. Of course, I wasn’t buying his favor with this gift—I just hoped he’d think I was a gullible fool.
I also tipped the wagon drivers some silver coins for drinks. Some say giving too little makes you stingy, but giving too much makes you look naive. This time, I wanted them to underestimate me. Come on, show your true colors soon.
Were my enemies more cautious than I thought? They seemed careless but didn’t make a move.
After watching the loading for a while, pretending to be bored, I wandered around to check the surroundings.
As I kept exposing my carelessness, the warehouse clerks started acting suspicious. Was it finally happening?
They pretended to load barrels onto the wagons but secretly returned some to a corner of the warehouse. Childish tricks, but hard to notice in such a messy place. Without Radar Scan, I probably wouldn’t have caught it.
Even if I counted and confronted them here, they’d make excuses and brush it off. No, I’d keep pretending to be fooled.
The stolen barrels were quietly taken into my magic bag by unseen hands. Maybe the gods were watching, but I only took back what was stolen—I wasn’t a thief.
To avoid suspicion, I pulled replacement barrels from the back of the warehouse and set them aside. That wasn’t really stealing, right?
In this world, government officials were corrupt, and smuggling supplies was common. It wasn’t necessarily the Bearded Baron’s doing.
To make up for their low wages, they naturally committed crimes. Even well-paid officials still stole—that was just how it was.
Within my territory, I planned to enforce rewards and punishments strictly to end corruption. Still, I knew it was impossible to wipe it out completely. Even the officials judging these cases were bribed.
To be a lord meant accepting both purity and impurity. The ideal of human goodness didn’t hold here. Still, in my territory, I would keep saying bad things were bad. Some naive ideals were necessary. Without them, we’d never escape the dark ages.
How to balance ideals and reality… Even with gods in this world, it was far from utopia.
The wagons were finally loaded, and tarps were pulled over them one by one, even though it wasn’t raining. It looked like a Western movie—cool—but this wasn’t the time to enjoy the scene. The guards probably planned to smuggle some goods where I couldn’t see.
The most targeted were likely the barrels of salted meat—they sold for the highest price. Just in case, they swapped barrels with my personal belongings one by one. The magic bag and invisible hand trick still worked well here. I’d become quite the cheat.
Even without swapping with my items, I could replace stolen goods with identical ones later. Humans could be fooled, but not gods.
* * *
After loading all the cargo, the wagon convoy started moving. The old man with the beard didn’t seem to come along.
Just as I feared, whenever the wagons slowed at street corners, some barrels slipped off into the alleys. Some barrels were swapped with fakes filled with trash.
Thankfully, I had already replaced all the stolen barrels. Still, I planned to regain my strength. Once the bad guys lost sight of me, I’d use my unseen hand to retrieve everything again. The fake barrels filled with trash would be swapped back with the real stolen ones.
They probably had no idea I was already reclaiming what was mine.
In this ruthless underworld, worse thieves prey on other thieves. If you look away from your loot even for a moment, someone will snatch it in a flash. Here, fools lose their goods — that’s just the way it is. There’s no such thing as dirty money sticking to you forever.
As we neared the Floria residence, I left a note on the desk in the study. It wasn’t a love letter, which would be nicer — just a plain memo about how things went this time. This was also part of my secret plan.
I knew I was far from perfect, so I didn’t expect to make the best moves. Miss Floria would probably scold me later. But for now, I had to do my best with what I had.
In the end, about three barrels I couldn’t recover before leaving the royal capital were stolen, but they were just dummy barrels, so I let it slide.
Losing three barrels of salted meat wasn’t much of a hit financially.
I cleared the game, but not with a perfect score. Just a little frustrating, that’s all.
Overall success? If the bearded Baron already feels like he won, then maybe this was a real success.
The reason the substitution barrel trick worked so well was thanks to the Royal Kingdom’s regular army, which unified all supplies into barrels. The barrels were sealed, but many were reused, so it wasn’t unusual to see barrels stamped with the Duke Mineley crest mixed in. Some barrels even carried more than ten different seals. They were tough and durable.
By the way, you could tell if the barrel had salted meat or salted vegetables by lifting and shaking it. Salted vegetables felt soggy. The trash-filled barrels were made to look like salted meat. Meat was always the prime target.
Still, the knights I brought were completely useless. Most had already been bribed.
I had them watch the carriage line, but when someone took a barrel, they just looked the other way.
I recorded a scene of a knight holding a few silver coins with Editorskill, though I didn’t plan to use it as proof. It was more a reminder of the darkness in people’s hearts.
Judging by the knights’ faces, they didn’t seem to feel guilty. Maybe they didn’t think what they did was wrong.
I never had loyalty from them, but I hadn’t expected to be betrayed so easily over such petty bribes. I really lacked charisma, didn’t I?
Well, I did find some people who wouldn’t betray me even now. I decided to see that as luck. I’d give those honest ones a bonus and promote them later.
Whether from underestimation or betrayal, as a king, my goal was a country where honest people wouldn’t be fooled.
Notes:
• Shea-Shea – Mauro’s daughter. Hurt by Alexander. Became an eager fiancée after advice from protagonist.
• Raoh – Pakkyamara. An infamous, scheming, but somewhat incompetent senior adventurer known for meddling with hero summoning rituals; often gets beaten up as a result. The one who want japanese food.
• Holy Kingdom – Located on the east of the continent.
• Miss Floria – Elegant, silver-haired noblewoman in her 40s, referred to as an ‘older sister’. Judge of the Supreme Court and Baroness. Former tutor of Princess Auroora. Initially stern but warms up, showing a playful side. Close with Ms. Nina (Princess Auroora’s doll copy), treating her like a sister. Trustworthy and explains legal matters clearly.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
Thanks for reading.
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