With the new workshop completed, I wasted no time turning it into something functional. The back room became a haven of production, lined with my crafting stations, workbenches, and furnaces. The front room, on the other hand, became something else entirely: a showroom.
Piece by piece, I arranged examples of every type of furniture I could produce: chairs, tables, bedframes, dressers, and cabinets. The scent of fresh-cut wood filled the air, and the natural shine of the grain reflected the sunlight that streamed through the new windows.
The plan was simple: we'd hold a small exhibition in two days, where villagers could place their orders.
I'd already settled the business arrangements with Claire: ten percent of all sales would go directly to the chapel, and another ten percent to the church's fund for supporting newly reincarnated individuals.
The chapel had done so much for me since my arrival that giving back felt natural. Besides, with how easily I could mass-produce things, money didn't feel like a problem I'd face for long.
For pricing, I'd kept things straightforward: two silver for small items like chairs and benches, three silver for mid-sized ones like tables, and four silver for large pieces such as bedframes or wardrobes. Delivery cost one additional silver, though for the church or anyone helping me out, I'd waive it.
To put it in perspective, my room at the tavern, meals included, cost forty-five copper a night. One silver was worth a hundred copper, a hundred silver made a gold, and a hundred gold equaled one platinum. Even a few sales would more than cover my expenses for weeks.
I'd also promised Belle that she could pick whatever she wanted for the tavern, no charge. When I told her, she'd smirked and declared that it was "a husband's duty to keep his wife's home well-furnished." I hadn't even known we were married, but apparently, she had declared herself my 'local wife'.
Word of the upcoming sale spread through the village faster than I expected, mostly thanks to Cecile's rather enthusiastic gossiping. By the time the exhibition day arrived, the area around the chapel was bustling.
When I arrived that morning, more than thirty people were already gathered outside. A few were peeking in through the new windows, marveling at the furniture inside. Claire and Cecile stood near the entrance, greeting visitors with warm smiles and explaining prices.
Among the crowd, I spotted Belle, radiant as ever, accompanied by an older cowkin woman who must have been her mother. The resemblance was unmistakable, though her mother's horns were shorter, and she leaned on a cane. Belle caught my eye and flashed me a wink before leading her mother through the displays.
The villagers, most of them women, browsed the furniture eagerly. They touched the polished wood, admired the seamless joinery, and asked about delivery times. It was… strange. On Earth, I'd always been a background worker: a nameless face building someone else's home. Now, people were admiring my work.
Throughout the morning, I met a steady stream of potential customers, and more than a few flirtatious locals.
There was Josey, a blue-haired swordswoman in her twenties, who wanted new furniture for the house she shared with her adventuring party. She had the confident stride of a fighter, but when she smiled, there was a softness there.
Then Lacey, a young mother of twins, came in asking for a new dining table to replace the one her children had apparently "used as a climbing frame."
Tuly, the guard who had first met me at the gate, ordered new chairs for her home, saying the old ones had been wobbling for months.
And then there were the ones who didn't really come to buy, only to meet the new "handsome craftsman from another world." I couldn't help but blush more than once under their teasing glances. It was flattering, if a little distracting.
Only one man visited that day: Kris, a middle-aged villager who arrived with seven wives in tow. They were all human, and between them, they practically cleaned out half my stock.
He introduced himself as one of only three men in the village, the others both older than him.
By the end of the day, I was exhausted but elated. Claire, who had handled the payments and order forms, handed me a small stack of parchment slips.
"All totaled," she said with a proud smile, "that's 164 silver."
After deducting the chapel's twenty percent share, I was left with 131 silver. Not bad for a single day's work. With four carpenter's stations running simultaneously, I was confident I could have every order crafted and ready for delivery by tomorrow.
The following day was delivery day.
Cecile accompanied me around the village, escorting me while I moved the furniture into homes and collected the final payments. The villagers' gratitude was genuine, and I found myself smiling more than I had in years.
By mid-afternoon, I'd made my way through most of the list, saving one address for last: the home of Josey and her adventurer companions.
The house sat near the edge of the village, sturdy but modest, with a training dummy out front and a few scattered weapons hanging by the door. When Josey opened it, she wasn't alone.
She introduced me to Daisy, a petite, dark-haired assassin-type with sharp eyes and a body built for agility, and Ria, a curvaceous red-haired mage likely in her early thirties.
Both women greeted me warmly, though I couldn't help but notice their curious glances. I had a feeling they already knew who I was from the village gossip.
We unloaded the furniture together, setting up a new dining table, chairs, and a storage chest. When we finished, I collected the payment, then turned to them with a serious look.
"Actually," I said, "I saved your delivery for last because I wanted to ask something. I need to hire an escort team to take me into the forest, about a kilometer in. There's a lake there that supposedly contains sand, clay, and iron sand. I'd like to collect crafting materials."
Josey crossed her arms, tilting her head. "You mean that lake? Yeah, there's only one like it around here. But you're aware it's dangerous, right? Monsters like to drink there."
"I am," I replied. "But I'm a production type, I don't fight. That's why I need an escort."
The three adventurers exchanged quick glances, then nodded. Josey spoke for them. "We can take the job. We're D-rank, so it'll be ten silver each per day. We'll handle the monsters and let you gather what you need. If we leave at first light, we'll be back by nightfall."
That seemed more than fair. "Deal," I said without hesitation. "Let's meet in front of the tavern tomorrow morning."
As I left their home, the evening sky was painted in hues of orange and violet. The faint sound of the village bell echoed across the rooftops, marking the day's end.