Reborn in the Survival Adventure Game-Chapter 74: Jobs and business (1)

"I don't know if I'm doing it right," said Rogo, scratching the back of his head.

"You're planting seeds, not drawing runes," growled old Berrin, hunched over in the next row. "Push it in, cover it, done. Like this."

The goblin boy tried again. Dirt stuck to his claws. His back already ached, and it wasn't even noon yet. Still, he pressed the seeds in gently and followed Berrin's pace.

He glanced toward the shed where Lirae stood, marking things down with her chalk and careful handwriting. A new wooden board beside her listed jobs and their rewards:

"Farm Field A: 5 coins"

"Well Repair: 6 coins"

"Woodcutting: 4 coins per stack"

"Street sweeping: 2 coins"

"Helping with building: 7 coins"

Rogo wiped sweat from his brow. "If I finish this row... that's my first five coins."

Berrin grunted. "Five coins won't build a house, boy. But five coins every day? That's a roof. Food. A shirt with no holes."

Rogo didn't say anything. He just nodded, dug another hole, and planted the next seed.

Far away near the blacksmith hut, Larn—an elf with soot on his sleeves—watched Dorgrim hammer glowing metal.

"You really think this system of coin will last?" he asked, wiping his hands on a cloth.

Dorgrim shrugged. "Depends. Will the sun rise tomorrow? Will people stay lazy, or will they work?"

Larn chuckled. "I worked three days in the forest hauling wood. Got fifteen coins. Bought dried meat and a new belt. Never thought I'd miss the sound of coins clinking."

Dorgrim smirked. "You're addicted already."

"Maybe. But it feels fair. Like I earned it."

Dorgrim turned the hot iron over with his tongs. "Better than begging Caelen for everything. Makes a person feel... like a person."

Near the village well, three goblin women hoisted stone buckets together, their arms shaking.

"It's heavier than it looks," one of them muttered.

"It's worth it," another said. "We get six coins when it's done. I'll use mine for eggs tomorrow."

The third smiled softly. "I want a real blanket. Not straw. I heard Caelen's making cloth again."

They pulled the final bucket up, water spilling over the sides.

"I never used to care," one of them admitted. "But now I want to be useful. Not just fed."

Garin passed through the village with a basket of cooked bread, waving to the workers. freёnovelkiss.com

"You all are doing great," he said with a grin. "Keep this up and we'll have the best village in the forest."

"Does Caelen see all this?" someone asked.

"He watches from the side sometimes," Garin replied. "You don't need eyes on you to know you matter."

Even the children joined in.

Little Miro helped sweep the pathways with a short broom. Zira had shown her how. Each time she finished a section, she ran up to Lirae for her reward—two small coins that jingled in her pouch.

She used them to buy sweet herbs from an older elf woman who cooked treats.

Miro held up the small bun. "I made this happen!"

That night, as lanterns glowed and the moon rose, villagers gathered in the center.

They sat on logs, steps, grass.

No one told them to.

They just wanted to be there.

Berrin handed Rogo a tin cup of warm drink.

"You worked hard," he said.

Rogo looked down at his dirt-caked fingers. "I did."

"Feels good, don't it?"

"...Yeah."

Across the clearing, two goblin teens showed off the broom they had carved for the town hall.

"Made it from scratch. Even tied the twigs ourselves."

Old elves nodded in approval.

"Keep this up," one said, "and you'll earn more than just coin. You'll earn respect."

Lirae stood near the board, adding more names and tasks.

She turned when she heard someone call, "Lirae! Can we talk?"

It was Jaro, a broad-shouldered goblin who used to be a hunter. "I've been thinking. We should set up small stalls in the middle square. You know, like a little market."

"A market?" Lirae raised her eyebrows.

"Yeah. Let people trade or sell their crafts. Blankets, buns, wood carvings, even spare eggs. If we're using coins now, why not use 'em like real towns do?"

Another villager overheard and stepped in. "I'd sell baskets. I've made too many to just keep at home."

"And I can paint signs for people!" added a young elf. "Not just job boards—beautiful ones, to decorate!"

Lirae wrote the idea down and smiled. "I'll mention it to Caelen."

Later, in a quiet spot near the creek, Rogo and Berrin sat and counted coins by moonlight.

"Ten," Rogo said.

"That's enough for three meals and soap," Berrin replied. "What will you do with the rest?"

"Save it," Rogo said with a shy grin. "Someday I'll buy wood. Build a house."

Berrin nodded. "You've got a plan now. That's how you grow."

The next morning, Lirae added a new board beside the job list. It simply read:

"Market Planning – Help Needed"

And under it:

"Sign up if you want to open a stall, offer goods, or build benches."

One by one, names appeared.

Jaro. Miro's mother. The elf painter. Two bakers. A retired goblin with weaving skills. Even Garin signed up to offer fresh vegetables.

It wasn't just a village anymore.

It was becoming a home.