Firearms in a Fantasy World 2

Chapter 233: Salt People

Translator: Cinder Translations

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Kevin sat dizzily guarding his stall. It was already noon, yet he hadn't had anything to eat, and his stomach growled incessantly in protest to his brain.

But what could he do? He had been here since sunrise, but only earned a few measly copper coins. Kevin couldn't bring himself to spend them on food.

Sitting on the ground, he hugged his legs with his arms, feeling utterly helpless. In front of him was a piece of old cloth spread out on the ground—Kevin's stall—on which were placed several bags of white stuff.

Salt, that's what Kevin was selling.

The village where Kevin lived had always depended on salt boiling for a living. Previously, merchants would come every month to collect salt and pay them a reward.

But gradually things changed. When the merchants came to collect salt, they started aggressively lowering the prices and showed an attitude of take-it-or-leave-it.

Most of their village depended solely on salt boiling for a living, so they had to accept the merchants' price cuts.

But the prices offered by the merchants became increasingly unbearable, and their visits to collect salt became less frequent.

Someone from Frand Port had heard the news that a group of merchants led by the big salt merchant Gedwin had established a "Salt Field" near Frand Port. They used some method inside that could produce tons of table salt much more efficiently than their village's boiling method.

When the Salt Field just started production, it couldn't meet all the demand, so the merchants still relied on these salt people. But as the Salt Field expanded and production increased, their dependence on salt people decreased.

The salt produced from the Salt Field was not better in quality than the salt boiled in Kevin's village; in fact, it was slightly inferior. But it had an unbeatable advantage—cheapness.

It was really cheap. Kevin knew that a family could afford enough salt to pickle fish for a full year.

Income from boiling salt was dwindling, and soon his family couldn't make ends meet. If this continued, their already meager savings would soon run out.

With no other choice, Kevin and others from his village began smuggling salt into nearby towns to sell. To avoid competition, each chose a different location. Kevin chose to come to Frand Port.

He had arrived in Frand Port yesterday, but after a day of vending, he had only earned a tiny amount of copper coins. Starving by evening, he bought a loaf of dark bread to barely fill his stomach. With little money earned, there was almost nothing left.

He stayed overnight in the stable of an inn and planned to try his luck again the next day.

Kevin had tried to sell his salt at salt shops, but the prices offered there were ridiculously low, and selling to them would definitely mean a big loss for him. Trying to negotiate a better price, he was quickly chased out by the shop assistant.

As he pondered what to do next, he caught sight of a person carrying an iron bucket and a brush walking towards him.

Kevin guessed he was probably from the City Hall and about to paint some "slogans" again. This was a publicity method invented by the young lord who had just ascended to power last year, painting these "slogans" in prominent public areas to inform people of his policies.

Like "Protect the Environment, Everyone's Responsibility" and "Littering Results in Fines," etc. Even their remote village had a few slogans painted, although there were only a handful of literate people in their village.