Romon strolled down the street.
This was not an incognito inspection; he merely wanted firsthand information.
According to Nick's figures, after a thousand Druids had poured into Far-Sail Port, nearly every inn had filled to bursting, and spending had more than doubled.
Spurred by this, even more merchants had swarmed in.
With the grand temple of the Merchant Goddess established, many merchants had also applied for citizenship. There were now more than nine thousand citizens, while another ten thousand people of every sort had flooded in temporarily. The city's daytime population had reached twenty thousand, while its nighttime population was also ten thousand.
Added to that was the approved establishment of the Adventurers' Guild.
Now, the Mage Tower, merchant associations, and Adventurers' Guild were all in place.
Wearing a loose robe, Romon looked around.
Though strict planning had gone into the city, sewers had been built, and the garbage of this age was all biodegradable—after being washed underground, it would basically rot away, while cleaners worked regularly—
It still looked bustling and chaotic at this moment. The main reason was the countless temporary vendors, who had squeezed the originally broad streets until they seemed narrow.
The smell was unpleasant as well. Though horse dung was cleared away constantly, its stench lingered. Mixed with the smell of sweat and some rotting odors, it made Romon frown.
Though he had been an ordinary university student on Earth and, in his earlier years, an ordinary town resident, after so many years among the social nobility, he had grown somewhat unaccustomed to it.
Should I ban these unlicensed stalls... Forget it. Everyone is struggling! Romon thought. But if this keeps up, perhaps the planned second expansion will have to begin construction.
Because he had planned ahead long ago, Romon had even left room for