That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime, Vol. 8, стр. 27
“Y-yeah. Pretty much.”
“I see, I see. You want me to come up with the kind of entertainment that’ll bring people back again and again. Something that’ll make them contemplate another visit, even if this particular battle tournament turns a loss. If we do that, you’ll consider this a success?”
“…That’s exactly what I’m saying. I’m impressed you understand me so well, Mollie. You’re the only man I can trust with this job!”
This job—find ways to attract people to Tempest, using a battle tournament as bait—excited Mjöllmile to the core. And really, Rimuru had all but worked it out by himself before throwing it in his lap. He had to resist the urge to shout out loud with excitement.
“Heh…heh-heh… This is just too much…”
“Hey, it’s best to leave things like this to a professional, right? Don’t tell me you don’t feel up to it, Mollie?”
“Ha! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! How harsh of you. I never realized you had such a mean streak, Rimuru.”
“Ha-ha-ha-ha! Right you are! But this is a piece of cake for you, isn’t it?”
They both laughed loudly at each other—then exchanged sly glances.
“You realize how much money is going to change hands here, hmm? I’m sure you do.”
“Heh-heh-heh-heh… Not to worry. You have Mjöllmile on your side, and accounting is my middle name. Just watch—I’m going to give you exactly the results you want!”
“I’m sure you will. Counting on you is the smartest thing I’ve ever done.”
Rimuru was right. This tournament would take a lot of money. He honestly scared Mjöllmile sometimes. He began to wonder just how far ahead he was thinking. The thought gave him vague fears, even as his mind filled with wild dreams.
“Now, along those lines, I think I’ve stumbled upon a new way we can use your healing potions. That medicine can heal you as long as you are not killed instantly, yes? That means our competitors can fight with no small level of intensity, I assume. Plus, if a fighter is injured in one match and appears good as new in the next one, that would certainly make for some good advertising.”
“Wha?!”
“Oh, did you not think that far?”
“N-no, um, I did. It’s just that, you know, I wanted to see if your thoughts were any different from mine.”
“Ah, I see! Yes, I’m sure you’ve already considered that much, Rimuru, heh-heh-heh… But I’m not done yet!”
Mjöllmile began to lay out idea after idea for him. This turned into a volley of brainstorming and compliments on the ideas. One concept was advertising the healing potion at the tournament, then selling it on-site to adventurers. Another involved weapon and armor rentals and sales.
“Even Kurobe’s failures at the forge are pretty off the charts when it comes to raw power. We can’t sell those to just anyone, but he has a workshop full of apprentices these days. Offering their stuff shouldn’t be an issue.”
They decided to give it a shot.
Another idea thrown around was state-run betting operations. This also existed in Englesia, where even simple pick ’em bets were netting huge amounts of revenue at the arena. They could do the same thing pitting warriors against captured monsters—which had its risks, of course, but Rimuru had a small army of powerful fighters at this point, so it wasn’t nearly the hazard Mjöllmile pictured. Maybe they could even offer training courses for beginner adventurers, reserving part of the arena’s space as a dojo of sorts. The lessons would be paid, of course, but they’d come with qualified instructors to guide newbies through the basics.
The ideas came rolling one after the other from Mjöllmile. As long as Rimuru was providing his full support, he felt like he’d never run out of them. He couldn’t stop thinking about how huge his role was, dreaming up possibilities and being responsible for making them happen. It was a bit daunting, but far more than that, exciting.
“I’ll do it,” he said with a shiver. “I’ll do it all for you! My merchant’s soul is telling me we’re going to make a massive pile of money on this!”
“Excellent! I love that confidence of yours, Mollie! And I know you got what it takes to give me the kind of revenue I want!”
Rimuru’s praise embarrassed Mjöllmile a bit. But he wasn’t done yet.
“Also, um, if you’re interested, of course, if this whole tournament turns out well, you wanna come live in my town? I could make a trade department for you—or maybe a PR firm or general financial office. It doesn’t matter what we call it, actually, but I could let you run it all. I got a pretty big population to govern these days, and once the tournament’s over, I think it’s high time we reorganize our administration. I’m sure everyone will agree to it, as long as you can pull this off. What d’you think?”
Rimuru sounded like he didn’t doubt Mjöllmile at all. It made his heart dance. The question “What d’you think?” plucked his heartstrings like a master harpist, and the melodies echoed over and over through his mind like a concert hall.
He gave him a strong nod. “…There’s just no beating you, Rimuru. Or should I start calling you Sir Rimuru? I promise you, Sir Rimuru, I’ll do whatever it takes to succeed and join your team!”
There wasn’t a moment’s hesitation. How could there ever be? This man has counted on me so far, he thought. I can’t let myself mess this up!
As advanced as he was in age, Mjöllmile was now captive to the burning fires of excitement and hope and dreams in his heart. He could barely stay seated. He wished he could bottle this feeling up in a jar and keep it nearby forever.
“You don’t have to exaggerate.” Rimuru laughed, but the more they got