Demi-human Race

Mel Carlo had no intention of continuing, but the little girl spoke up. Though they were about the same age, she addressed him respectfully:

"Mr. Mel, is what you said true?"

"Just call me Mel. Actually, I'm not sure either, because like I said, the Claire I knew had orange-red hair."

"Father, if I join the Demon King's Army, will I be able to avenge Mother?" Claire asked her father.

"No, absolutely not. I've already avenged your mother." Freli firmly refused. He did not want his daughter to become a traitor to humanity.

"But we hide and run every day." Claire was still young and could not think many things through.

The man fell silent. He did not know how to answer his daughter. Their enemy was indeed dead, but they had been wanted by that noble family. Across this continent, the noble class had certain connections with one another and would naturally protect their own interests.

For money, or perhaps for something else, if they were discovered, they would certainly be captured.

So many years had passed that the search might have long since weakened, but they could still run into trouble...

"Tell me, are you really planning to live like this for the rest of your lives? Have you learned anything about the Demon King's Army? What are they really like?" Mel Carlo was quite curious. In the game, the Demon race and humans had been natural enemies, but the Demon race were not monsters. The two could not be treated as the same.

The Demon race were more like another race with higher intelligence, like elves and beastmen—like the Demi-human race.

"Of course. Claire and I went to the borderlands before, but fighting was still going on there, so we couldn't transport our goods over."

"Are there merchants doing business with the Demon King's Army?" Mel Carlo continued.

There had never been a shortage of people profiting from war. As long as the Demon race was not as chaotic as the propaganda claimed, trade was possible. But if the Demon race intended to exterminate humanity, Mel Carlo felt it would be necessary for him to help the humans of this world—unless one day he stopped being human himself.

"Yes, I think there must be. Otherwise, even if the Demon race stripped their controlled territory clean, they couldn't possibly support such a long war with supplies."

"Mr. Freli, if you had the means in the future, would you choose to do that kind of business? It's pure profit, a hugely profitable trade. The Demon King's prices surely wouldn't be low."

"I wouldn't..." The man had just begun to deny it when he stopped. After thinking for a moment, he scratched his head and replied, "Hard to say. I haven't reached that level yet. If I really do someday, maybe my thoughts will change."

The human nobility surely hoped the Demon race would carry out harsh purges. That way, more and more people would hate the Demon race. Unless humanity was wiped out entirely, the Demon race would never be able to unite the whole continent.

Mel Carlo continued chatting with him. It would be good to build a little rapport, after all. He had a large batch of goods on him, goods this world did not possess. If he wanted to sell them, he would need a trustworthy, stable merchant—or even a merchant guild.

If his own strength was insufficient, simply putting such goods on the market would make him a target.

If a new product suddenly appeared on the market and sold well, other merchants would definitely notice it. Then they would investigate the seller and try to get a hand in those profits.

Whether he wanted to supply them upstream or sell the goods himself for pure profit, he first needed to establish himself in this other world.

"Mr. Freli, will you continue working as a merchant?" Mel asked.

"Yes. On this continent, there's nothing more suitable for me than being a traveling merchant."

"If you become strong enough, or have your own merchant guild, I have some high-value goods I can provide you with." Mel Carlo revealed his intentions.

Freli merely looked doubtfully at Mel, who carried nothing around him. Mel Carlo did not look like someone capable of carrying many goods. At most, he had a purse containing one gold coin and several silver coins.

He did not entirely disbelieve him. At the very least, this kid could not be judged by the standards of an ordinary child. That person from earlier had probably been killed because of this kid.

"You don't believe me?"

"No. Even if you possess such goods, I don't have the strength to sell them right now. A small quantity might be manageable, but once the volume increases, people will notice. I think you have the same concern right now, which is why you don't dare put your goods on the market." Freli answered Mel Carlo's question. He saw things clearly.

If Freli had wanted to kill him and take his goods, he could have strangled Mel Carlo the moment they left the imperial capital and entered the wilderness. But he had not done so.

On one hand, he was wary of Mel Carlo's strength. On the other, he did not particularly enjoy killing. The first time he killed someone, he had been so terrified he wet himself. It was a fear he could not control.

When he fled with his daughter, it had been more of a panicked escape. Other than a small amount of money, he had taken nothing else.

"Mel, if one day I build my own caravan and merchant guild, will you still work with me?"

"We'll talk about the future when it comes. I'm not sure whether I'll change my mind by then."

Their conversation ended there.

Compared to this man, Mel Carlo preferred talking with the little girl. She seemed quiet, but her words were concise, without so much scheming.

"Claire, has your father always been like this? He doesn't seem very reliable."

"Yes, Father has always been like this. Not very reliable, but I'm here. I'll definitely build the Bernardo family's caravan."

"That won't do, my dear Claire. Our surname would expose us." The man interrupted again.

"Mr. Freli, I think your concern is unnecessary. When your fists are hard enough, your rules become the rules. That noble family won't be able to touch you. The reason you're wanted now, plainly speaking, is that the noble class can't gain anything from you."

"Boss Mel, you speak like you're writing poetry. But I have to admit, you have a point. Still, you're a little naïve. Those noble lords won't let you share in their profits for nothing." The man did not turn around, but neither did he believe Mel was entirely right.

"Then find a way to get rid of them. Hang them from the city gates."

"All of them?"

"Yes. Everyone in the way."

"But you don't look capable of doing that right now."

"Yes, but that's now. The future is another matter." To Mel Carlo, helping anyone in this world was the same. He was not from this world to begin with.

Of course, he would not be foolish enough to spread any other ideas in this world. The noble lords and the church would probably label him a heretic and burn him alive.

Put simply, this world's productive capacity was not enough to support the birth of new ideas.