"What... what the hell is this?" Mr. Vales stuttered, his eyes darting around the room in panic. The metal giants continued their rhythmic movements, seemingly ignoring him.
"In my world, we call it an assembly line or factory," Erik said, his voice carrying over the noise. "What better way to mass produce items than to automate it?"
"Erik Park!" A familiar voice boomed, followed by a slap on his back that felt like a sledgehammer. "What brings you here?"
"Fuck-! H-hey, Grom. Kinnesthe. This is Vales, a new... friend," Erik stuttered out, trying to keep his balance.
The dwarf stepped up to Mr. Vales, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. "Friend, eh? He doesn't look like he's enjoying his time with us."
"Yes, isn't this the same man who gave us a headache a few days ago?" Kinnesthe's voice was like gravel, his gaze unyielding on Mr. Vales. "What's he doing here, dressed like a savage?"
Erik composed himself, turning to the blacksmith and the dwarf. "Well, I figured since I've taken him captive, he should be put to work. You know, to pay his debt to the village."
Grom chuckled, a deep rumble that seemed to shake the very earth beneath them. "A noble idea," he said, his eyes glinting with amusement. "But what can a man like him do in a place like this?"
"Hey," Erik pointed a finger at the dwarf. "You probably didn't know this, but I wasn't always the man I am now. I had to start at the bottom, working as a construction worker. So, I know a thing or two about manual labor." He winked at Mr. Vales, who had gone paler than a ghost at the mention of labor. "Besides, we can all agree hard and honest work is the best way to build character, right?"
Grom and Kinnesthe glanced at each other, nodding in agreement. They had seen the changes Erik had brought since he arrived in the village, the way he had rolled up his sleeves and gotten his hands dirty to help rebuild the place. Despite Grom being a dwarf and Kinnesthe a native of this world, both were blacksmiths, and thus related all too well to Erik's industrial spirit.
"Alright, Vales," Grom said gruffly, "You're gonna start by cleaning up the metal scraps." He pointed to a towering pile of metal debris. "And if you do well, we might just show you the ropes of our work. Maybe then you'll understand the value of honest labor."
Mr. Vales' eyes widened in horror as he stared at the mountain of scrap metal. "But I'm a noble! I can't-"
"Here, you're no longer a noble," Grom bellowed, cutting off Vales' protests. "Here, you're just a man with a debt to pay. And we're the ones who'll decide how you pay it."
Satisfied, Erik left the trembling Mr. Vales in the capable hands of Grom and Kinnesthe. As he exited the factory, the bright midday sun hit his face, and he took a deep breath of the fresh forest air. He couldn't help but feel a smug sense of accomplishment at seeing his plan unfold perfectly.
In the distance, he spotted Rutaminuar running towards him, the boy's eyes wide with concern. "Boss, something's happening at the burger shack!"
Erik's heart skipped a beat, and he broke into a sprint, his mind racing with possibilities. He didn't like the look on Rutaminuar's face. "What's wrong? Is everyone okay?"
"For now! Elder Morthanu is already there, but it seems like some nobles from the Orithane kingdom have come to the village, looking for you!" Rutaminuar shouted as he ran alongside Erik.
"Son of a... what the hell do those rich bastards want..." Erik muttered to himself, his heart racing. The last thing he needed was a confrontation with nobility. He had enough enemies without adding more to the list.
The two of them arrived at the burger shack to find it bustling with villagers and soldiers alike. Morthanu was standing outside, his usual calm demeanor replaced by a furrowed brow and crossed arms. He looked at Erik with a stern gaze as he approached.
"Mr. Mort, what's- damn, I'm out of shape- what's happening?" Erik panted, trying to slow his racing heart.
"Some... uninvited guests," Morthanu said with a gritted smile. "They claim to be from the Orithane kingdom, looking for you."
As if on cue, the crowd parted, and a quartet of finely dressed figures strutted out, their eyes scanning the area with a mix of arrogance and impatience. The lead figure, a man with a well-groomed goatee and a cape that fluttered dramatically in the breeze, stepped forward.
"Ah, you must be the infamous Erik Park," the nobleman said, his voice dripping with disdain. "You're causing quite a ruckus in our lands, and we've come to put a stop to it."
"And how exactly am I causing any problems?" Erik folded his arms, his voice steady despite the urge to snap at the nobles.
The goateed man sneered. "You dare question me? The audacity! Your unlicensed use of magic, your blasphemous contraptions, a mere peasant like you defiling the sacred lands of Orithane with your... your 'fast food' abomination!"
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
"Okay... but that didn't answer my question. How am I causing trouble for you guys?" Erik's patience was wearing thin.
The nobleman's eyes narrowed, his disdain visible. "The audacity! We have received complaints from the locals, claiming that your... 'burger shack' is a den of sin and a blight upon their eyes."
Erik glanced around, spotting Talia and Myrese watching the exchange quietly from afar. "What locals? Restia Village is at least an hour away from the next village. Everyone here is in favor of the burger shack. So tell me, what's the real reason you're here?"
The nobleman's face flushed, his goatee quivering with anger. "It is not your place to question our motives! You are but a mere peasant who has overstepped his bounds!"
"Fine, if you don't want to say, then I'll do it for you. You're feeling threatened by the rapid and profitable success of Restia Village, aren't you?" Erik smirked, his gaze unwavering from the nobleman. "Your pockets aren't lined as deeply as you'd like, and our little burger shack, among the other amenities here, is cutting into your precious monopoly on trade goods. You can't stand that a couple of nobodies are outdoing you."
The nobleman's fists clenched at his sides. "You dare speak to me like that?"
"Hey, don't get it wrong. You barge into my turf, demanding answers like you own the place, and you expect me to roll over?" Erik retorted, his voice carrying a hint of challenge. "Let's not forget that I've done nothing to break any laws or rules."
The nobleman's eyes narrowed. "You think you're clever, don't you? But you're just a peasant with delusions of grandeur. Why a Traveler like you decided to stick your nose into business instead of questing for gold and glory is beyond me," he sneered.
Erik's eye twitched, but he held his tongue. Obviously, he wasn't quite as powerful of a Traveler like those who had come before him, but that didn't mean he was a pushover. "Look, I'm not here to start a war or anything. I just want to live my life, help out this village, and maybe make a little coin on the side," he said, keeping his voice calm despite the growing tension. "And you're telling me you want to take that away from these poor and starving villagers?"
He gestured over to the elderly but incredibly muscular Morthanu, who had been quietly observing the exchange. "Our frail village elder, Mr. Mort, can attest to the benefits we've brought to the area. We've brought prosperity and happiness to these lands, helping out the hungry people. They’re beginning to recover their very lives!"
No one spoke as Morthanu subtly flexed his muscles, a living contradiction to everything Erik had just said. Awkwardly, the nobleman coughed, clearing his throat. "Indeed, we have no intention of depriving anyone of their livelihood," he said, his voice less certain than before. "But we must ensure that your... ventures align with the laws and regulations of the kingdom."
"So, you aim to control and get your greedy little hands into my profits, huh?" Erik's eyes narrowed. He knew the type—always looking to squeeze more out of those who had earned it.
"Don't be absurd. Even if that were true, are you not doing the same?" The nobleman retorted, his composure slipping as he tried to regain control of the conversation. "You operate outside the law, and your methods are questionable, to say the least."
"Questionable, yes, but you still haven't told me how I'm breaking any laws," Erik countered, folding his arms. "In fact, you haven't built up any grounds for an argument other than jealousy. From what I can see, you greedy bastards either want to take over my businesses or shut it down to prevent competition. Is that correct?"
The nobleman's face turned a shade of red that would put a sunset to shame. "You dare speak to us like that?!"
"Yuh." Erik nodded, not bothering to hide his smirk. "And before you start spouting some bullshit about noble rights and whatnot, I've got a little surprise for you." He gestured to the back of the burger shack, where a group of orphans emerged, each one holding a rolled-up parchment. "These are copies of the agreements and contracts I've made with the village. No taxes, no fees, no bullshit. The villagers are happy, they're eating well, and their lives are getting better."
The nobleman's eyes flickered over the parchments, his jaw clenched tight. He knew he was losing ground in this confrontation.
"If you've got nothing else to say or do, then I respectfully ask you to get. The. Fuck. Out." Erik's voice was as cold as steel, his patience having reached its breaking point. The nobleman sputtered, his goatee quivering in indignation.
The guards surrounding the nobleman shifted uncomfortably, not knowing how to respond to Erik's unyielding stance. They glanced at their employer for guidance, but his face was twisted in fury. He took a deep breath, his eyes narrowing.
Talia and Myrese tensed, taking a step forward as Alyssa and Ricteronu shuffled closer to Erik. He subtly shook his head, silently telling them to stand down. The nobleman's cheeks reddened with anger, his hand moving towards the sword at his side.
"Are you going to cause a scene now? In front of all these children?" Erik asked, gesturing to the orphans who had gathered around, watching with wide eyes. The nobleman's hand hovered over his sword, but he paused, glancing at the innocent faces staring back at him. Well, innocent to those who didn't know better.
"This isn't over, Traveler," he hissed, before turning on his heel and storming out, his guards following closely behind.
Erik flipped him off as the noble walked away but immediately changed it to a sarcastic wave, forgetting that the orphans had no idea what the gesture meant. The children giggled, copying him.
"Well," Morthanu began, casting a look at the orphans when the noble was well out of earshot, "that was certainly... enlightening. Did you have to be so hostile, Erik?"
"Whether it's my world or this world, people like him will always be lurking around. I've had my fair share of entitled assholes," Erik said with a shrug, his voice echoing the nonchalance of someone who had seen much worse. "But if he thinks I'm going to let him or his buddies bully this village, he's got another thing coming."
He turned and walked off, pulling out his journal with a scowl. The villagers looked at him with a mix of fear and admiration, the air thick with tension. The orphans, on the other hand, had their eyes shining with excitement.
"What are you going to do now, Erik?" Myrese asked, her voice filled with concern as they stepped into the burger shack. Talia hung outside, trying to ease the tension among the villagers along with Ricteronu and Alyssa.
"What else? I'm going to plan something big," Erik murmured, flipping through the pages of his journal. "I'm in a terrible mood right now."
Myrese sighed, recognizing the signs of trouble brewing. "Erik, please don't do anything rash." She paused, closing her eyes as she rubbed her temples. "No, I should know better than to expect nothing less from you."
"Of course. You know me," Erik said with a wink, his smirk growing wider. He snapped his journal shut, looking around the burger shack. "I think I might need to upgrade my security around here."
"And how will you do that? With your... special pen and notebook?" Myrese couldn't help but chuckle despite her concern. "What, are you going to draw a moat?"
"Nope. Iron Man suit," Erik replied, grabbing a cup of fries and heading toward the exit.
"I'm sorry... what?"
"Iron Man suit." Erik repeated the phrase as if it was the most natural thing to say, his eyes alight with an unshakable determination and slightly unnerving greed. "I've got a plan."