Someone was watching me... was it someone from the Purification-ers, or a cultist who escaped capture at that sacrificial ritual?
The feeling of being watched vanished in an instant. Charlotte could not tell whether someone hidden in the shadows was staring at her, or a passerby had merely given her outfit a few extra glances. But she knew that turning around carelessly, let alone deliberately searching the surroundings, would immediately reveal that she had noticed them.
So she did nothing drastic. Instead, she glanced up at the two-story building beside the street, whose sign faintly bore the words "Randall Printing Works," then called for her maid Lila to follow and headed toward the Gustav family's carriage parked a little farther ahead.
After only a few steps, a hunched figure emerged from the roadside.
It was a beggar wearing a shabby gray-brown coat, his tangled hair and beard covering most of his face. He had been squatting at the foot of a wall, and only when the three approached the carriage did he brace himself against the wall and slowly rise, shuffling toward them with his back bent.
Perhaps he thought a young lady would be more softhearted than the two gentlemen. He finally stopped before Charlotte, stretched out both hands, and pleaded hoarsely:
"May the God of Artisan bless you, and may the Sun protect you. Please spare me a few coppers. I haven't eaten in two days..."
As an atheist from another world, Charlotte had never been particularly devout in her faith in the Eternal Blazing Sun, so she hardly minded the beggar praying to two gods at once. But the overpowering mixture of sweat, grime, and long-unwashed body odor hit her full in the face, making her instinctively want to move away.
Yet when she saw his face, so dirty she could scarcely make out its original complexion, and the trace of hope in his otherwise numb expression, she resisted the urge to step back.
If I hadn't transmigrated into Charlotte Sauron, but into one of the commoners who make up the vast majority of this world, I might not be living much better than him... Moved by the thought, Charlotte tilted her head slightly and said:
"Lila, give him three Riecks."
At her instruction, the personal maid took three thumb-sized silver coins from the small pouch she carried. Each bore King Louis VI's profile on the front and a fleur-de-lis crest on the back. She placed them in the beggar's outstretched palms.
These were the lowest-denomination silver coins in circulation, each worth one-twentieth of a Verl D'Or. There were also thick, heavy copper coins worth one Rieck apiece, but respectable nobles seldom used them for transactions because they were inconvenient to carry.
Three Riecks could buy several loaves of rye bread in Suhit City, enough for the beggar to fill his stomach, recover his strength, and find temporary work that paid promptly so he could support himself. He quickly put the silver coins away and bowed, repeatedly thanking the God of Artisan, the Eternal Blazing Sun, and the kind young lady before him.
Charlotte took the opportunity to remain where she was and discreetly survey her surroundings, trying to find the source of that watching gaze.
Coachmen, porters, passing women, a man leaning against a wall smoking a pipe... everyone seemed occupied with their own business. No one was visibly staring at her.
Only Roselle, up ahead, looked over at the sound of the beggar's praise.
Strange. Was I imagining it? I haven't even drunk a potion and gained a Beyonder ability yet. How could my intuition be sharp enough to notice a gaze from the side, or even from behind...? she silently muttered, withdrawing her gaze and walking toward the two young men.
Roselle had already looked away from the beggar, while Green Randall seemed not to have noticed the little incident at all. Still absorbed in his excitement at the prospect of getting rid of his family's old printing works, he immediately greeted Charlotte's approach with an enthusiastic smile.
"Miss Charlotte, you've come at just the right moment." He removed his tricorn hat and bowed with exaggerated flourish, then said eagerly, "Roselle just said that if this printing works is still operational, he'll persuade Baron Gustav to buy it, along with the workers who haven't left yet!"
"I only said it was a possibility," Roselle hurriedly corrected him.
Green nodded and rushed on with his explanation:
"He has a very interesting idea: use the printing works to regularly produce cheap leaflets and sell them to nearby merchants, townspeople, and cafés. They could carry news from city hall, notices of shop openings, guild developments, even church publicity... and of course, if merchants are willing to pay, we could print their shop names and lists of goods too."
Green Randall seems to be using me to pressure Roselle, taking advantage of nobles' desire to show off in front of women and their concern for appearances to make him agree to buy the printing works... wait, isn't Roselle's idea basically the beginnings of a newspaper...? Charlotte had just begun to smile at having seen through Green's intentions when her expression froze.
What she feared most had happened after all. In this dull world, which had never published a newspaper for the general public and had only a handful of academic and arts journals, someone had already stumbled onto the threshold of inventing newspapers!
What a coincidence. Could those webnovels really be right? Are transmigrators always surrounded by overlooked geniuses who only need a little hint to come up with earth-shattering inventions...? But if Roselle invents the newspaper, what am I supposed to do...? She took a deep breath and quickly suppressed that faint, complicated pang of resentment. Letting a hint of curiosity show on her face, as though the novel idea had caught her interest, she chose her words carefully:
"That does sound interesting. In Trier's cafés, young gentlemen and ladies have pitifully little to discuss beyond a few noble anecdotes fit for public conversation and romance novels published ages ago... if there were a regularly printed... leaflet with consistently updated content, allowing them to discuss the latest news from different places, interesting stories, and even serialized novels, it would certainly be popular. As long as those people took the lead in buying and sharing it, it would soon become fashionable, beginning in cities like Trier and Sushit."
She had almost said "newspaper," but remembered that the first newspaper had yet to appear in this world, so the word had no established referent. She held it back.
"That's exactly what I had in mind, and Miss Charlotte has brought the picture to life." Roselle clapped his hands, praising her as though he had found a kindred spirit. "But there may still be plenty of practical difficulties. For instance, to print pages with more words packed more densely together, the existing presses may need modification. We'll need dedicated staff to gather news and arrange the type. And distributing the printed leaflets beyond Suhit City while keeping their contents timely will require dedicated channels too..."
"And a publishing license."
Charlotte reminded him.
In the Intis Kingdom, any publicly distributed text printed on paper was controlled by the royal family or local government. It could only be printed and sold with a publishing license.
Green's father was a silk merchant. He had originally built this printing works solely to print silk patterns as references for the weavers he employed, and had never dealt with publications intended for public distribution. Thus, Green looked slightly bewildered, while Roselle had already considered this and nodded without any change in expression:
"If my father agrees to invest, he'll find a way to resolve that issue. But..."
He glanced at Charlotte and continued:
"If Baron Sauron would be willing to offer some backing, I think things would go much more smoothly."
Is he getting ready to bring me in as a partner? Bringing up the publishing license was worth it... Charlotte felt a surge of delight, but did not immediately commit herself. Instead, she pointed at the printing works beside them and said:
"Let's first see whether the equipment still works. If there are no problems with it, I'll do my best to persuade my father."
Beside them, Green smiled because his family's printing works, which he had been unable to sell at all, had suddenly become highly sought-after.
Leaving Lila beside the carriage, Charlotte entered the building with Roselle and Green. It did not occupy much ground, but its interior was rather complicated.
Since operations had already stopped, the factory held none of the noise of running machinery or the shouts of busy workers. Sunlight fell through small, high windows, illuminating the dust drifting in the air. Several enormous pieces of metal equipment stood on wooden sleepers in the center of the workshop, their exposed gears and levers giving them a rugged beauty.
Several workers waiting in a corner recognized Green and hurriedly rose to approach them:
"Good morning, young Master Randall."
Green nodded and introduced them:
"This is Miss Charlotte Sauron, and this is Mr. Roselle Gustav. They've come to see whether this factory has any chance of reopening."
On hearing the two noble surnames, the workers visibly grew tense. The man who had intended to lead them forward stopped awkwardly in place, then lowered his head and stepped aside, as though coming any closer would offend them.
There really is an invisible wall between the nobles and commoners of this world... Charlotte reflected, having already experienced something similar when her father handled Etienne's case.
Roselle seemed to notice it too. His brow furrowed slightly, but he said nothing, following Green to the printing presses and listening to his explanation.
"These were all commissioned from the Church of the Artisan, which designed and manufactured them. They use a new lever system in place of the old screw mechanism, allowing just two workers to press a full page of clear text and images... over there are the matching movable types in various typefaces, along with templates for printing images. Once we hire typesetters, we can start printing those leaflets at any time."
Green clearly knew his family's business well. As he explained the enormous printing press, he kept looking at the two potential buyers beside him, hoping to see satisfaction on their faces.
Charlotte knew nothing about printing machinery and could only judge from appearances that the equipment had not truly been neglected. Although the metal surfaces were somewhat greasy, they had no extensive rust, and the structures remained intact. Someone evidently cleaned and maintained them regularly. It seemed that although Green's father was eager to sell, he still hoped to get a good price.
Of course, if they truly wanted to print newspapers for distribution to other cities or even the entire kingdom, a few manually operated presses could never manage it. At most, this printing works could serve as the starting point for their "trial publication," allowing them to test whether the business model could make money.
But just as Roselle said, there are still plenty of problems that need solving... compared with my spur-of-the-moment enthusiasm, he seems to have been planning this for a while. Could he really be a genius? Charlotte glanced at Roselle, who had leaned close to a press to study its lever system, and realized that of the three of them, she was probably the one contributing her noble status rather than her brains or money.
Reflecting on this, she followed Green and Roselle into the storeroom beside the workshop. Metal movable-type blocks, leftover ink, and paper were neatly arranged inside, and the air was filled with a strange smell she could not decide was pleasant or foul.
Just then, the feeling of being watched returned.
So they did follow me...
Charlotte was not surprised. Besides wanting to inspect the equipment, she had followed the two men into the printing works precisely to confirm whether her pursuer would come after her.
After all, it was better to get the pain over with than prolong it. At least she currently had two young men who had attended military preparatory school beside her, giving her more room to react than if she were alone in her carriage or bedroom.
Besides, who knew how long the Purification-ers would keep watch? What if they decided the remaining cultists had already fled and stopped secretly protecting her?
With that thought, she quietly moved closer to Roselle and Green and said in a low voice:
"Have either of you felt... that someone is following us?"
"Following us?" Green froze for a moment and instinctively looked toward the doorway. "Could it be the workers outside?"
Charlotte slowly turned her head, sweeping her gaze over the stacks of paper, shelves, and half-open door.
That gaze vanished again.
She was about to look back at the two men when the corner of her eye suddenly caught a figure darting out from behind a wooden shelf.
The man wore a gray coat and moved extremely fast. With some kind of pointed metal object held in a reverse grip in his right hand, he lunged straight at them.
"Watch out!"