I'm the Bad Guy But Heroines Are Obsessed with Me

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Ian, who had made up his mind, headed towards where there was someone responsible for farming, riding a carriage.

Eri, who was peeking at the potatoes behind the rattling carriage, asked.

"Squad Commander, may I ask a question?"

"What is it?"

"Why did you ask to bring potatoes?"

Eri still vividly remembered.

When he asked if she could get some potatoes, she asked why he was looking for them. The vassal who was looking at him with a curious expression.

It was strange that the guy who had told him to develop the territory suddenly started looking for potatoes.

Of course, she was curious too.

What could they possibly do with just potatoes?

However, Ian had his own thoughts.

"Eri… do you know what our territory's specialty is?"

"Are you talking about the specialty of the Volkanov territory? I'm sorry… I don't know."

"The specialty of our territory is venison."

(TLN: Venison is meat from hunted animals.)

Since ancient times, the Volkanovs had earned money by selling meat obtained through hunting.

Sometimes leather or crafts made from antlers were sold as well… but the main item that brought in profits was meat.

Because they couldn't farm due to the cold climate in the north. They focused on hunting.

Of course, they didn't completely neglect farming.

They used to farm in relatively warmer areas like Ashlan, but they barely made ends meet, and there were no dreams of making profits from sales.

So, was the result of their dedicated hunting good? Sadly, it wasn't.

"In fact, the deer we sell from our territory are not of good quality."

"But didn't you say it's your specialty?"

After all, a specialty means something that has an unmatched quality compared to elsewhere.

But saying that the quality wasn't good was not an excuse, right?

"If it's a specialty, I thought it meant it was of good quality."

"Your point is correct. We are a somewhat special case."

"Is there a reason why it has to be that way?"

"Our Volkanov territory faces barbarians across a giant mountain range."

A situation where there are competitors over a single mountain range.

What's more unfortunate is that the barbarians' hunting skills are exceptional.

Born and raised in the north, their very nature was tough against the harsh climate, and the rugged mountains were their home.

Having conquered the mountains from a young age, their hunting skills in the mountains surpassed anyone else's. The hunters of the Volkanov County couldn't keep up with them.

"The products that Volkanov is currently selling as specialties are those that were saved from the barbarians because they thought this was not the right product."

Collecting and selling selected scraps in a pitiful situation.

But the problem didn't end there.

"What's even more serious is that the territory where we trained, the Gohud Region, also has meat as a specialty."

"I remember hearing that the quality of meat in Gohud is excellent."

"Yeah. Compared to that, our meat is tough and not very tasty."

Moreover, now that other territories and specialties overlap, they can't keep up with the quality.

If a rational person acknowledges that further competition is meaningless and seeks alternatives…

But Volkanov didn't do that.

'Are they stupid?'

No. Even if they are incompetent, are they that stupid?

They knew, but there was no other choice.

'When asked what the specialty of our territory is, we can say that you can see barbarians and demons in our territory. If you're unlucky, you might even get kidnapped and become a sacrifice. If this reputation spreads, it's over.'

The way to prosper the territory is simple. Make a lot of money and attract many people.

But what if the image of the territory is tainted with the idea of ​​a city infested with demons and barbarians?

That's why.

The reason Volkanov passed off subpar meat as a specialty.

Even his father, Killain, was planning to gather all the manpower, even those focused on farming, for hunting.

But there was one problem here.

'Soon the barbarians perform their rituals…'

They believed in their own gods. They had a custom of cleansing the bodies of villagers with animal blood as part of the ritual.

'A lot of blood to cleanse the bodies of the villagers…'

Then, they were going to capture all the animals they had been raising.

The disappearance of animals was like a disaster to the people of the Volkanov territory.

Income from hunting would plummet. With no crops planted, there might be a severe famine.

Listening silently to Ian's words, Eri nodded incessantly. It seemed that her curiosity was somewhat relieved now.

"If there's a definite reason like that, there's no choice. So, bringing potatoes was to get away from that situation?"

"Yeah. In the current situation, farming is essential."

According to the original, Ariel would solve the famine by using her connections.

By asking her friends for help and borrowing meat and plants for the territory.

However, Ian didn't want to use such methods.

He knew that indebting oneself to someone else wasn't a particularly good choice.

So, he decided to fend for himself. That's why he chose farming as his method.

In the original, there was nothing as lucrative as using staple crops for making money.

"But… farming won't be easy on barren land."

"That's why… if it wasn't potatoes."

Eri expressed her doubts at Ian's calm words. Seeing her seemingly incomprehending reaction, Ian explained briefly.

"Eri… do you know that? Staple crops like potatoes don't care about the condition of the land."

"They don't care about the condition of the land…"

"Of course, they're not as useful as wheat, which is mainly consumed by people of the Empire, but…"

Are they high in calories? Not really.

Do they have a high yield? They're good, but they're not comparable to wheat.

Honestly, compared to wheat, they didn't have any advantages.

However, staple crops like potatoes had significantly superior advantages compared to wheat.

'Even on barren land, they have the ability to grow.'

Even on endlessly barren territory, if you plant just one potato, before long, all the fields will be filled with potatoes.

And that wasn't the end of its advantages. It grew at a ridiculously fast rate.

It's March now, so if you plant them now, you might be able to harvest them soon.

Ian planned to make money from this.

'To be precise, by exploiting the characteristics of the nobility…'

Nobles have always been a race of indulgence, enjoying luxury and flaunting themselves.

By using them, significant profits could be gained.

Of course, in Eri's position, one might wonder what they could do just by selling potatoes…

But Ian was confident.

"You might not understand right away… It might be hard to believe… But."

"No. I believe in you, Squad Commander."

Before finishing his sentence, Eri firmly grasped his hand and looked at him.

I believe it… The reflection of Eri saying those words…

If someone else did such a thing, they might feel a trembling, exciting emotion…

'If I fail, will she kill me?'

Ian pledged to make the potato resale operation a success, even if it cost him his life.

***

"Sigh… What should I do with this…"

Baron Oliver.

Responsible for the agriculture of the Volkanov County, he sighed continuously as he looked at the letter in his hand and the piles of potatoes.

He recalled the situation that had just occurred.

'Suddenly, the young master came to visit, and I wondered what he was up to.'

Ian Volkanov, who came to substitute for the ailing Count, had come to him while he was handling the duties of the lord.

He casually took out a huge amount of potatoes from the carriage and handed them to him.

'Why would you give this to me…'

'Plant them and grow them.'

That was the message along with it.

In fact, up to this point, there wasn't much of a problem.

He had obtained the title of Baron, but with a natural disposition for farming, planting and growing those potatoes wouldn't be a problem at all.

Rather, joy surged through him at the thought that they were finally listening to their words.

'We've been doing nothing but hunting… Is this person a little different?'

Finally, it seemed like he was listening to their words.

Tears nearly welled up at the thought that the appeal they had submitted to the territory at the risk of their lives had finally paid off.

Oliver recalled the words passed down from his grandfather.

'Oliver. The Volkanov Territory is a ruined land. We must succeed and get out of this cursed land! There's no future in this territory!'

The lord of Volkanov in Oliver's memory was a foolish man.

An obstinate lord who didn't listen to the words of the people in the territory.

Of course, he knew that the Lord had been neglecting the territory because he was busy eliminating enemies of the Empire… but that couldn't be an excuse.

What's the use of saying that when it's already hard enough to make a living?

Compared to such a Lord, the person who came as his substitute this time seemed alright.

'Well, until I heard his words.'

Oliver remembered Ian, who had brought out the potatoes that the farmers had stored in preparation for a famine and said they would grow some and sell the ones that had been stored.

'They are just small seed potatoes.'

Uneven and not particularly attractive, with low commercial value.

It seemed better to plant ones that were in good condition rather than plant those again.

If they were appropriately priced and sold, even if they didn't make a big profit, they could at least have enough to fill their stomachs.

Ian also agreed with the idea of selling potatoes.

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However, the problem was how to set the price.

'Ian, then I'll sell these at a bargain price. Selling them at about half the market price will quickly bring in profits.'

'No… sell them at double the price.'

'What? Double the price?'

Sell the potatoes, which might not even sell at half price, at twice the price.

That was what Ian said to him.

'I thought he was crazy…'

Oliver wanted to curse at that moment, but he managed to calm himself down and persuade Ian.

These would never sell.

If you double the price, the potatoes will rot before they even sell. So, they must be sold at half price.

He had no choice but to say it. However, Ian Volkanov continued to demand selling them at twice the price, ignoring Oliver's words.

'If it's just ordinary potatoes, they won't sell even if you double the price. But these are not ordinary potatoes.'

'What do you mean?'

'Don't sell them as ordinary potatoes. Sell them as environmentally friendly, organic potatoes hand-raised by Count Volkanov. Make sure to specify the exact wording I said. Understand?'

In the end, Baron Oliver had to swallow his tears and nod his head.

And now, back to the present.

Oliver looked at the potatoes piled up in front of him.

"Such a waste…"

They were going to rot eventually.

He wanted to sell them secretly to a peddler, but disobeying the orders of a Count as a Baron was out of the question.

In the end, Oliver suppressed his sadness and handed all the potatoes over to the person in charge of sales.

Emphasizing them as "environmentally friendly, organic potatoes hand-raised by Count Volkanov" felt shameful and humiliating, but… he endured it and sold them.

'As expected, adults are never wrong…'

He had thought there couldn't be anyone worse at the job than the previous lord… but this crazy guy surpassed him by far.

'These crazy people… I'm sick of them. I should just leave this place.'

Muttering curses in his mind, Oliver eventually swallowed his tears and fell asleep.

And the next day, Oliver could only be astonished as he hurriedly greeted the visitor who had come for him.

Listening quietly to what he had to say, Oliver blinked.

"All… all sold out? At that price? And they even asked for more?"

To read all 300 fully translated chapters and the first 25 chapters for free, visit patreon (p(A)treon.com/Astrid02)