Chapter 68: Football Across the World
Marlon had just finalized the construction site along Blacksmith Street when dozens of workers from the Crane Dance White Sand Construction Company arrived, each carrying carts or shouldering piles of building materials. Leading the way was Lucas, the massive, flower-faced wolf badger with an exceptionally keen sense of smell, sniffing the air and guiding them straight to Marlon.
“Master Marlon, this is the construction team dispatched by the venerable Old Paladin Carnegie. He said that, for now, this team falls directly under your command.”
Adela, walking briskly at the front with her skirt held neatly, hurried to Marlon’s side to report respectfully.
“Master Marlon, rest assured! Every one of us is an expert at building houses—we guarantee that we can construct the finest buildings exactly to your specifications! If anything goes wrong… you can take my head and toss it like a ball! Of course… after tossing it, could you perhaps find a priest to put it back on? I’d still want to lead everyone in redoing the work and finish the house properly before I close my eyes, wouldn’t I?”
A young man wearing a captain’s armband followed right behind Adela, shouting with pride. Marlon took a closer look—wait, wasn’t this the young man Andrewson, the son of the disabled veteran Andrew?
By appearances, Marlon was several years younger than Andrewson, yet in his mind, he still regarded Andrewson as a half-grown boy, while placing himself firmly in the role of an adult.
Still, from Marlon’s careful observations and the employee performance report submitted by the venerable Old Paladin Carnegie, it was clear that this seemingly carefree Andrewson had solid leadership skills. He had a knack for inspiring and motivating his fellow workers with his upbeat, optimistic demeanor.
So Marlon casually decided to joke with him, widening his eyes and contorting his face into an exaggerated grimace. “If you think I’ll just put your head back on, think again—that’s a loss of at least five thousand Lants! With five thousand Lants, I could make tens of thousands of excellent footballs and still have money left over. So, really… the best solution is if the work isn’t done properly, we’ll just deduct your entire wage.”
It was obvious that the threat of a wage deduction hit Andrewson hard. He let out an exaggerated, pitiful scream, pleading miserably: “Noooo! Master! If you must deduct my wages, then… then… just kill me instead!”
But as always, Andrewson’s curiosity got the better of him. His eyes sparkled as he leaned forward, asking earnestly, “Master Marlon, what… what exactly is a football?”
A football?
Of course, a football was a ball you kicked with your feet!
Marlon opened his mouth to answer, then suddenly remembered—this world didn’t seem to have football at all.
Right! He could invent football, basketball, badminton, table tennis—all sorts of games—and use them to strengthen the orphans’ bodies and enrich the construction workers’ leisure time.
Before he knew it, Marlon’s thoughts had drifted far beyond Andrewson’s simple question. He even found himself daydreaming about the possibility of hosting an Olympic Games in this strange new world years from now.
Fortunately, while his mind wandered quickly, Marlon’s clarity returned just as fast. He wisely cut short his fantasy about a fantastical Olympics and brought himself back to reality.
“Football, huh? You’ll find out soon enough,” Marlon replied, then almost immediately began delegating tasks. “Andrewson, lead your team to build six stormproof iron furnaces according to Uncle Abbey’s specifications. If you’re short of materials along the way, get them from the venerable Old Paladin. And… don’t forget to keep a proper engineering report! If the work isn’t documented, I won’t sign off on the payment once it’s completed.”
At Marlon’s serious tone, the previously joking Andrewson straightened up, puffed out his chest, and responded with equal earnestness: “Master Marlon, rest assured! Though this is my first time leading a team alone, I promise nothing will go wrong!”
Marlon nodded, then briefly introduced Andrewson to Old Abbey before turning to leave with Adela and the little fox-girl.
Originally, Marlon had planned to take the young minotaur boy back with him, but Ester insisted on staying at the construction site, adamant about participating in the building work himself. Marlon considered this for a moment and instructed Andrewson to include Ester in the team.
If Ester wanted to work, then let him—it was as simple as that. However, Marlon still pulled Andrewson aside and gave him a caution: “Don’t let Ester do anything too heavy, but also don’t make him feel like you’re giving him special treatment. Understand?”
Andrewson grimaced. “Master, that’s a bit tricky! I’ll… I’ll try my best to follow your instructions, okay?”
Marlon simply nodded; that was sufficient.
He then walked back to Ester, silently patted the minotaur’s shoulder, and finally turned with Adela toward the bustling courtyard.
“Adela, what was Alisa’s response to the things we sent over?” Marlon asked after a while, unable to hold back his curiosity.
“Mr. Alisa said that the two virtual Glory Duel machines, including the blood-colored rune slots etched inside, meet all specifications. However, the metal wires connecting what you called the handles are too long, which could cause unnecessary energy loss. Overall, though, it doesn’t prevent the soul from entering the crystal card, so the machines are considered qualified.”
Adela reported every word Musa-Mein had said with impeccable accuracy.
“That’s good—they passed. I was most worried they wouldn’t… Wait, you said ‘considered qualified’? Didn’t Alisa personally test them by inserting the charged crystals?” Marlon asked, frowning.
Adela immediately caught Marlon’s concern and explained: “There was a problem purchasing the charged crystals. The venerable Old Paladin Carnegie sent someone to buy them, but the only shop in the slums that sells charged crystals refused to sell any.”
“Why? Didn’t the shop have the specifications Mr. Alisa requested, or couldn’t they produce them?” Marlon asked, his mind racing.
After all, charged crystals were like dry batteries—you couldn’t just get any size or specification you wanted.
Shaking her head, Adela replied, “It’s not as you think, Master Marlon. The shop selling charged crystals said that due to supply issues, there haven’t been any available for the past two days.”
Supply issues… no crystals for two days?
Marlon felt a cold suspicion form in his chest. This problem might not be as simple as Adela claimed.