EP 5 - Aira Gets F*cked At The End(4)
“Lord Lucius! Have you been well?”
A tenant farmer greeted me with his head bowed. Wait, were they really tenant farmers? Was it the neighboring lord greeting me? I squinted, as I couldn't tell who the other person was.
He was riding a donkey because he was too fat to walk, with three slaves in tow despite being a tenant farmer. From the looks of it, even if I hadn't played the original game, I could be sure that this guy was stealing grain.
In this game, tenant farmers were like landlords who rented land and harvested it on behalf of others. In reality, the relationship between tenant farmers and lords was a bit more complex, but it seemed the game didn’t bother to accurately portray that.
Thanks to this, I encountered this distorted relationship between tenant farmers and lords.
“Yes. Have you been well? Uh...”
I couldn’t remember that bastard’s name, so I thought to myself that I wanted to see the status window of that tenant farmer.
Name: Gilder Balpa
Job: Tenant Farmer of the Peta Family
Level: 10
Stats
Strength: 8
Agility: 2
Intelligence: 15
Luck: 20
Traits
Farmer
Can efficiently cultivate grains on farmland.
Obese
Penalty to Agility.
Embezzlement
Skilled in evading taxes.
Works to maximize personal gain.
“Gilder Balpa. How was this year’s harvest?”
The tenant farmer proudly removed the cover from the cart he had brought. About half of the wagon was filled with sacks. He said this while wiping away tears.
“I’m sorry, My Lord. This year was another bad harvest... I could only bring this much produce.”
Why was his job listed as tenant farmer? Wasn’t he just a scammer? I stepped outside the gate and scanned the wagon. Even though only half of the wagon was filled with sacks, each sack was tightly packed, as if he had put in considerable effort.
It was quite a significant amount, despite the tenant farmer skimming off the top. In other words, if these guys were dealt properly, the accounting of the territory could be maintained transparently and cleanly.
“Another bad harvest, you say? That’s strange. I’ve been praying diligently and confirmed that the land is fertile.”
“Ah, it... It seems that my poor farming skills are not enough to fully utilize the land’s potential.”
“Does that mean I lose money by hiring you? God doesn’t solve everything for us, Balpa. Human effort is needed to achieve the best results.”
“Oh, no, that’s not what I meant, My Lord. Next year, I’ll make sure to show you better results.”
The tenant farmer pointed to the empty fields, as if clinging to the hope that he might still survive. If he thought I would just inspect the farmland and leave, he was clearly an idio†.
“Open the door to the house.”
“Pardon?”
“Open the door, Balpa.”
“Ah, well... My Lord, I... I have some entertainers in the house right now, so it’s a bit...”
He offered a somewhat plausible excuse, but I shook my head and approached the door. Taking the mace I had kept next to the horse, I struck the door hard.
Kwang!
The wooden door, made of high-quality timber, shattered into pieces instantly. A startled pet cat, covered in wood chips, fled to the attic.
His wife and daughters who remained in the house screamed and collapsed on the spot. I patted the mace as I surveyed the scene in the living room.
As expected, it was the right house. Robin, with good sense, was holding onto the tenant farmer. Some servants and slaves came forward, curious about the commotion, but none dared to confront Robin and me.
“My Lord! My Lord! Please... please have mercy! I have nothing hidden!”
Even in this situation, the tenant farmer was lying. Ignoring his pleas, I walked past his terrified wife and daughters to the door leading to the basement and kicked it open.
Kwajik-!
The massive door broke, revealing a huge basement that could have served as a refuge for the residents of the territory. In the dim light seeping in from outside, the basement was packed full of grain. It was an amount that dwarfed the taxes he had brought me.
“Balpa, what’s all this in the basement?”
“Ah... well... I... I was just... saving the chaff...”
I was getting tired of listening to his sh*t. I grabbed the wife’s hair and threw her to the ground. The middle-aged woman, who seemed to have been living comfortably, was as plump as the tenant farmer. When I threw the wife down, her daughters, like ducklings following their mother, trailed after her and clung together.
Pointing at the wife with the mace, I asked.
“What if we open one of these sacks and find wheat? You have two daughters and one wife. So I'll check just three sacks.”
Even someone like him would meticulously take care of his own family. The tenant farmer gave up trying to deny it and buried his head in the ground, shouting.
“I’m sorry! I got greedy, please have mercy!”
“‘I got greedy’? Are you saying the other tenants don’t do the same?”
“No! They’re all in on it too!”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes! Yes! That’s right! I’m truly sorry, My Lord! I got greedy and made a mistake! If you could just forgive me once...”
People don’t change. Once a cheater, always a cheater. If you forgive once, they’ll believe you’ll forgive a second time. Half-hearted punishment only breeds hatred and leaves lingering issues. So what should be done?
I grabbed the wife by the hair again and lifted her up. She looked at me, trembling. The daughters clung to my legs, pleading for their lives. The wife looked useless, but the daughters were half-decent.
I threw the wife towards the tenant farmer and kicked the two daughters, who were still clinging to my legs, away, pushing them into a corner.
Then I selected one of the servants still standing in front of the mansion and said.
“Go fetch the guards now. Five fully armed. Have them bring equipment for transporting criminals.”
Time for an exciting humiliation.
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