Chapter 147: Chapter 142: White Hair in Memory
Leech was revising the blueprints for the distillery’s location.
The timing was perfect. The wheat harvest was in the next couple of days, so he could set aside some of the grain for brewing. Whether sold within the territory or to traveling merchant caravans, the product’s value would be quite high.
That was to say nothing of high-proof spirits, which were unheard of on the Lu Leiyi Continent.
The price would be no lower than that of "Sweet Gold" honey!
There was an urgent knock on the study door.
At the same time, a voice called from outside, "My Lord! It’s Gelan."
"Come in," Leech said.
"My Lord, you gave him ten Jinri?" Gelan pushed the door open, his forehead beaded with sweat, not even bothering with etiquette.
Leech looked at Gelan and gave a calm nod. "That’s right."
"But... but he’s just a con man! How could you...?" Gelan stammered, his face filled with guilt, at a complete loss.
"It’s not like I got nothing out of it," Leech said. "He promised to leave his brewing techniques to me."
’If he really knows how to brew, and if I can actually acquire that knowledge,’ Leech added silently.
Corpse Ghost Aina had already taken the body. Leech would then turn it into an Undead to absorb a portion of the brewer’s knowledge. If he was lucky, Leech would be able to obtain some brewing techniques. If not, he would just have to find a way to poach some talent.
’Sir Sour Apple would probably let me have a few of his people, right? We can establish a long-term partnership, after all.’
"My Lord, I... I have failed you!"
Gelan bowed his head low. "I wish to resign."
"Why?" Leech asked, confused.
"I am too ashamed to stay. I have brought you trouble."
"No, Gelan. He’s just a petty con man with a bit of cleverness," Leech said nonchalantly. "I am a lord. Or do you think I’m some foolish Baron who can be led around by the nose?"
Gelan immediately shook his head. "Of course not! Your wisdom dims the sun itself, and your benevolence is praised by everyone in Porcupine Territory!"
’My ’benevolence’ is more like being utterly ruthless when killing my enemies,’ Leech thought wryly.
A cruel lord enjoys torture and slaughter.
"So, what are you worried about?" Leech said. "But I am curious. What sort of leverage did he have on you?"
He appreciated Gelan’s administrative skills—the man kept the territory running in perfect order—but that didn’t mean he could ignore every problem. Whatever leverage could make someone pay a 10-Jinri blackmail without batting an eye was certainly no small thing.
Gelan said, "Yes, I have a daughter."
’Hm? That line sounds a bit familiar.’
’Here comes the deadbeat dad speech.’
"When I was young, I used to work in a comedy troupe."
Comedy plays were a form of entertainment for the lower classes, filled with all sorts of vulgar humor—scatological humor, to be precise. And I mean literal shit, piss, and farts! They would use the most profoundly crass material to make the common folk laugh.
The nobility, in particular, looked down on such vulgar theater. It was seen as utterly classless.
Aesthetically, Leech was inclined to agree. He couldn’t stand such extreme performances either. He’d once looked up some bizarre videos out of curiosity back on Earth and immediately discovered he needed a new pair of eyes that had never seen it.
Gelan continued, "Then, I had an affair with the proprietress of the troupe. I never expected her to get pregnant, but she did, and she gave birth to our child."
"..."
"And then? You abandoned the mother and daughter?" Leech asked.
"Of course not!" Gelan shook his head. "She fell for someone else, someone younger than me. And besides, I never liked performing in those comedy plays."
’One with a thing for older men, the other for younger guys. They were quite a pair.’
’It’s just that as Gelan aged, his affection for her would only have grown, while she would have come to despise him for getting older.’
"I left the troupe, but I always followed its progress from afar. I just never worked up the courage to formally meet my daughter."
"Bommer came out of that troupe too. He knows my story," Gelan said.
’So that’s the leverage: having a daughter he never raised, and his past as a low-brow comedy actor.’
But to Leech, this was not a problem at all.
"Mr. Gelan, when you’re in trouble, you should come directly to your lord," Leech said. "I’m very disappointed that you chose to hide this from me."
"My apologies, My Lord!" Gelan bowed his head low.
"But I am relieved you aren’t completely hopeless. Even if, in your attempt to protect your lord’s property, you chose an even stupider method: borrowing money," Leech said. "You’ve cost me ten Jinri. Do you really think I’d let you just walk away?"
"I will work hard to repay you!" Gelan declared.
"Stay in Porcupine Territory and continue working for me," Leech said. "This is an order from me in my capacity as both your creditor and your lord."
Gelan looked up, the rims of his eyes turning red. "Yes, My Lord!"
"You may leave," Leech said.
Gelan opened the door and had just taken half a step out when Leech’s voice came from behind him. "What’s the name of that troupe?"
"The Funny Funny Comedy Troupe."
"The commercial district should be completed next month, right?" Leech said. "Invite the Funny Funny Comedy Troupe to come perform."
"Thank you, My Lord!"
"Alright, go on. Don’t let me see you crying at dinner later."
The door closed softly.
With red-rimmed eyes, Gelan sniffled.
He had already resolved in his heart to dedicate his entire being to his lord and to Porcupine Territory from this day forward.
Yes, everything!
After dinner, Leech placed ten ounces of gold upon the unblemished body of the brewer, Bommer.
He closed the coffin lid and waited for the "maturation" process to complete.
’How exactly is the "completeness" of a corpse determined?’
Leech’s mind began to wander. ’A completely severed limb can be reconnected as long as it’s stitched back on and the wound is covered with gold. In that case, could you stitch together limbs from different bodies?’
’Like Frankenstein’s monster.’
It was a subject well worth researching, but the Necromancer’s legacy contained no such information.
’For example, if you stitched a human torso to a horse’s body, could you create a centaur?’
It was a bit gory and mad—toying with corpses.
But Leech truly felt the urge to find out. Fortunately, he quickly suppressed it. Not for any moral reason, but because it would be a waste of gold.
The larger the wound, the more gold required. It was entirely unnecessary.
And for an Extraordinary Corpse Ghost, its physical form was even less of an issue.
The corpse emerged from the coffin, and Leech’s consciousness entered the brewer Bommer’s body.
Instantly, he gained access to the man’s deepest memories.
Bommer was in what looked like a tavern. At the next table sat two strange, white-haired men with swords strapped to their backs.
"Is it really a wood elf?"
"The world is getting more and more chaotic."
"Are we going?"
"What does a wood elf mean?"
"Treasure."
"No, death."
"Heh."
One of the white-haired men suddenly turned his head to look at Bommer. "What are you looking at? You want to die?"
"S-Sorry!" Bommer flinched back as if a lion had just roared in his face.
’Alright, now I see why this particular memory was so vivid,’ Leech thought.
Even just through the memory, Leech could feel the immense pressure.
’It seems to be some kind of application of Spiritual Power. A bit like my ’Deterrence’, but not as potent. It just exudes immense pressure that makes people terrified and want to flee.’
As he had hoped, in addition to the memories, he also acquired the man’s brewing techniques and his years of experience.
Now he could open his distillery right away and train a group of apprentices to brew for him.
