Chapter 142

“Bibeong!”

Morning dawned over the Frontera County.
With Bibeong’s thunderous roar echoing from the slopes of the eastern mountain range, countless people, livestock, larks, frogs, and bees all stirred awake.

Of course, Lloyd was no exception.

‘What the hell…’

He rubbed his eyes hard with a groggy hand.
It was an ordinary morning after a deep sleep—
especially deeper than usual since he’d passed out the night before without even taking off his shoes.

‘Maybe I slept too well. My eyes aren’t even open yet and I’m seeing things.’

With a dazed frown, he looked again at the “illusion” in front of him.

[The existing residents and numerous refugees of the Frontera County are voluntarily rolling up their sleeves to help you.]

“……”

What kind of nonsense was this?
What fairy-tale garbage was hitting him on the head first thing in the morning?

Voluntary help? From the majority of the residents?
Yeah, right.

He didn’t believe in that sort of thing.

‘At the very least, there should be a reward — like a free 30-roll pack of toilet paper, or maybe a nice coupon book, or at least a sweet bonus payment.’

That’s how people worked.
No one labored for free.
No one was kind without reason.
There was no such thing as a free favor.

That was Lloyd’s philosophy.
Years of harsh life in Korea had carved that belief into him.

So he never accepted anything for free from others, nor did he expect to get anything without paying for it.

This moment was no different.

‘Voluntarily rolling up their sleeves? Yeah, sure.’

All he had done was ask Count Frontera to post a few notices around town.
Notices offering proper payment.
Notices recruiting workers for the main sewer construction.

But he hadn’t expected much from it.

‘Because the pay wasn’t great.’

It was spring, the busiest time for farmers.
Who would drop their fieldwork for a few coins?

He figured maybe a hundred people at best. That would be decent.
The rest, he planned to hire from Cremo City.

He shook his head to chase away the lingering sleep.

But then—he blinked.

The “illusion” was still there.
And beneath it was another notification.

[The achievements and praises you have accumulated are creating a chain effect.]

“……”

What?

His eyes froze, then slowly moved as he tapped the message.

‘Ding-dong.’

[You once executed a traitor of the territory and established discipline, displaying the dignity befitting your position. The residents of Frontera County still clearly remember the awe and admiration they felt that day.]
[Praise ‘Executor of Exemplary Justice’ is reinforcing the basic trust existing residents have in you.]

[You led the reconstruction of a fallen territory and played a decisive role in clearing your family’s debts through remarkable persistence and planning. The residents were witnesses to your effort and dedication.]
[Praises ‘Builder of a Fallen Estate’ and ‘Eldest Son of Frontera’ are strongly influencing the perception of the residents. None question your construction plans.]

[You showed compassion by helping refugees despite limited resources. Tens of thousands of refugees remember your generosity and kindness.]
[Praise ‘Guide of the Weary’ is inspiring unwavering faith among the refugees.]

[You faced great disasters head-on, becoming a shield for your people. You saved workers from giant ants, rescued soldiers captured by a dark sorcerer, and lured away swarms of locusts by becoming bait yourself. The people remember every act of your courage and sacrifice.]
[Praise ‘Savior of the Bell’ is spreading through the refugee camps, moving those who already saw you as a benefactor.]

[Due to the combined effects of these praises, a special chain reaction has occurred.]
[All residents and refugees of Frontera County have come to revere you as one.]
[For a certain period, everyone residing in the County will completely trust, support, and follow your plans and actions.]
[All residents, including refugees, have pledged to volunteer their labor for you without pay.]
[Chain Effect Target: All members of Frontera County]
[Duration: 3 years]

“…Holy crap.”

This was real.

Lloyd swallowed hard and reread the message.
No mistake.

It was real.

“Unbelievable…”

The description was so grand it barely felt real.

Still half-dazed, he stood up and walked to the window, hoping some fresh air would calm his mind.
He drew the curtains and opened the window—

—and froze again.

“WAAAAAAAH—!”

Before the morning air even reached him, an overwhelming wave of cheers and shouts slammed into his eardrums and body.

Crowds—
and more crowds.

Beyond the mansion courtyard, past the front gate and down the long driveway, people filled the area as far as the eye could see.

There were easily over a thousand of them, all shouting and cheering the moment they saw him at the window.

‘Wait a second…’

He was stunned.
Then the realization hit.

‘So that message was real after all.’

He tried to stay calm as he pieced the situation together.

His achievements and praises had triggered a chain effect.
He was now the number-one celebrity of Frontera County.
And because of that, people had gathered since dawn to volunteer for the main sewer project.

‘Whew.’

At this rate, they’d crown him king next.
And that would be a nightmare—no way he’d get to slack off then.

He straightened his clothes and hair, steadied himself, and stepped out of the bedroom.

In the hallway, he met the excited Count and Countess.

“Did you see outside? It’s unbelievable! Everyone’s gathered, begging to work—saying they don’t even need payment! Who could have imagined such a response from just a few notices yesterday?”

“You’re a man of great words, my lord. They must have been moved by your writing.”

“R-Really?”

“Yes, absolutely.”

Lloyd smiled faintly.
Flattering the Count never hurt.

“This is great news. We won’t even need to hire workers from Cremo. If you’ll allow, I’d like to go speak with them myself.”

“Of course! They’re here for you, after all.”

“Thank you.”

After a pat on the shoulder from the Count, Lloyd stepped outside and faced the huge crowd of residents and refugees.

He didn’t bother with a grand speech.
Instead, he set up a table—

A contract table.

“Alright! Everyone, line up! One at a time!”

When opportunity strikes, you row.
You open the sails when the wind blows.
You hang the laundry when the sun’s shining.
And you sign contracts when motivation’s at its peak.

That was the rule of life.

Lloyd, face thick as steel, sat behind the table.

“Okay, write your name and address. Age, gender, height, and weight too.”

“Uh, age? And gender and height? Why…?”

“Because everyone’s strength and stamina are different. Recovery depends on age too. What, you think I should just throw you all in without knowing that?”

“Oh, no, of course not.”

“Right? Imagine being dead tired and still getting pushed to work. Missing a shift and having your pay docked. Getting ordered to work overtime when you just want a break. Sounds awful, doesn’t it?”

“Y-yes…”

“So, wages will be paid. Nothing’s free.”

“Excuse me?”

“You didn’t hear me? You’ll be paid for every day you work.”

“But, Young Master Lloyd, we don’t need any compensation—”

“Tut. I don’t want rumors later. Take it.”

“Ah… yes, sir.”

“Good. Once construction starts, we’ll post the work schedules. Until then, focus on your farming. How’s Marez farmland these days?”

“You know I’m from Marez?”

“Of course. We signed the land distribution contract together.”

“Oh… right.”

“And your kids? You said you’d send them to study in Cremo once you’d saved up.”

“You even remember that…?”

“Want me to forget?”

“N-no, sir! I’m just amazed you remembered someone like me…”

“What’s amazing about that? Anyway, take care of your fields. When you get the work schedule, make sure to read it.”

“Yes, thank you, Young Master Lloyd!”

“Okay, next!”

And so it went.

He drafted labor contracts one by one.
Each volunteer listed their gender, age, height, and weight.
There were far more volunteers than expected—enough to rotate shifts based on physical condition.

‘Rotation’s key. Someone still needs to farm and care for livestock.’

Even with urgent construction, agriculture mattered.
He planned to balance both carefully.

‘And the wages—must pay them.’

He insisted on it.
Not because he was rich.
Not because he’d suddenly grown a conscience.
But for the future.

‘If you work people for free, you’ll hear about it later.’

Right now, everyone adored him.
But that wouldn’t last forever.
Today’s cheers could become tomorrow’s resentment.

‘That’s why I’m paying. They need to trust I’m fair—that working with me means getting paid properly. That’s how you build lasting reliability.’

And reliability made everything easier.

So Lloyd spent the whole day signing contracts with thousands of volunteers, smiling all the while.
The volunteers smiled too—a heartwarming sight for anyone watching.

Except Javier.

‘Sigh. They really have no idea who he is.’

He carried stacks of completed contracts and sighed repeatedly.

People were too naive.
Did they even know what kind of man Lloyd was?

To Javier, who saw him every day, it was baffling.

‘If they only knew how petty and cunning he is.’

If he could, he’d shout it out loud.
‘He’s a con artist! Run while you can!’

But, composed as ever, he kept it to himself.

By day’s end, all volunteer contracts were complete.
But Lloyd wasn’t done.

‘Far from it. There’s still a mountain left to climb.’

Stretching his stiff body, he muttered,
“Manpower’s handled. Next is materials.”

People alone couldn’t build.
They’d need resources—especially a massive amount of stone for the sewers.

“So then… let’s go have dinner.”

“Pardon?”

Javier, sorting the last of the papers, blinked.
“Where exactly are we going for dinner?”

Lloyd, already wearing his coat, smiled faintly.
“You’ll see.”

“……”

What was he plotting this time?
It wasn’t even evening yet.

Javier followed, full of suspicion, as they mounted their horses and rode off.

Under the deepening sunset, Lloyd’s horse turned south.

‘Don’t tell me… the Viscounty of Lacona?’

Meaning, dinner at the Viscount’s mansion?
No—he wasn’t just going for dinner.

He was going to ‘take something.’

‘If it’s Lloyd, that’s exactly what he’s planning.’

He was the type to squeeze every last drop from those who crossed him.

And, sure enough, his prediction was right.

They soon crossed into Lacona territory.
After passing several villages and fields, they arrived before a luxurious mansion—the residence of Viscount Lacona.

But something was happening in the front yard.

‘A fight?’

Two men were brawling—judging by their clothes, house servants.

The real issue was the well-dressed young man standing nearby, watching them fight for sport.

“Throw those punches properly, you bastards! Loser sleeps in the storage tonight—no dinner, got it?”

A tall, broad-shouldered man with a sly glint in his eye.

Javier recognized him immediately.

‘The Viscount’s son… Diego.’

He’d heard the boy had gone to study at the royal academy, like Young Master Julian.
When had he returned?

While Javier was still wondering—

“Hey.”

Lloyd strode right up behind Diego, who was engrossed in the fight, and casually draped an arm over his shoulder.

“Huh? Who—?”

Startled, Diego turned his head—
and froze as his eyes met Lloyd’s.

A devilish grin spread across Lloyd’s face, one that would make even Satan shake his head.

“Who else? Me. I’ve got business here, so let me ask—what’s your dad up to these days?”

The Viscount’s son, Diego, could only swallow hard in response.

‘Hiccup.’