Chapter 15
“Come on, Uncle, don’t worry so much! Back when I lived here in Rayben, didn’t you see my haggling skills at your shop?”
Heidi grinned, knowing what was on Henry’s mind.
“Tch. Of course I remember. With how much you knocked off the prices back then, I probably lost a whole support beam’s worth of profit…”
Henry’s eyes grew distant, recalling how she had once driven his fruit stall bargains into the ground.
“Anyway, if I think about that, I guess you won’t be easy prey. That’s a relief.”
“Exactly. You know who I am.”
“My knees ache, so I’ll be sitting over there on that bench. If anything happens, call me, all right?”
“Yes, yes. Go sit and rest, Uncle.”
Just as Heidi was about to return to her stall, a commotion rose near the entrance.
“What the—ten, twenty, fifty… how many crates is that? How can one man carry all that alone?”
“Are those strawberry crates stacked higher than his own head? Is that even possible?”
…Wait. Stacks taller than the person carrying them? And strawberries, no less?
There weren’t many people who fit that description.
Heidi snapped her head up—and of course, there he was. A man wrapped tightly in a scarf, striding toward her with a mountain of strawberry crates balanced effortlessly in his arms.
Despite the height of the load, his steps were steady, without a single wobble. It looked almost like a performance.
“Ber!” she called.
He looked up, met her eyes, and quickly approached. He set the towering stack down with surprising gentleness.
No sooner had he done so than a crowd of merchants swarmed him like bees.
“You’re strong, my friend! Ever thought about working at the wholesale market? I’ll pay you good daily wages.”
“Come work for me! I’ll pay you 150,000 rut a day. Lunch included, and it’s delicious!”
“Forget that—come to the construction site. The work’s heavy, sure, but the pay is excellent. With your build, you could carry bricks by the hundreds, eh?”
Dozens of business cards were shoved into Ber’s hands.
It was obvious they were scouting him. Heidi felt her head spin.
Of course… a man this capable looks valuable to everyone else too. To me, he’s reliable—but to them, he’s a prize to be stolen.
It was a disaster. If she’d known this would happen, she would have carried the crates with him just to ward people off.
But regrets wouldn’t help now.
If things kept up, once his employment period ended, someone else might snatch him away.
Sure, Ber wasn’t the type to be swayed by money—but enough money could make even the impossible tempting.
And Heidi, who planned to keep him on her farm permanently, couldn’t allow that.
So she strode over, bold as could be.
“Shoo, shoo! Everyone, move along! This man already belongs to me!”
Then she looped her arm through Ber’s and declared proudly.
“What?”
“Ahem. Already spoken for, I see…”
The merchants pulled back reluctantly, some still eyeing him with regret.
“…Well, if you change your mind, call me!”
One particularly shameless merchant even slipped a card into Ber’s pocket on his way out.
“Hey! Hands off! Ever heard of business ethics?” Heidi barked, glaring.
“Fine, fine…”
Finally, the crowd dispersed. Only then did Heidi breathe a sigh of relief.
So this is what it means to protect your talent… It’s not easy.
Strawberry Art
Back at their stall, Heidi pulled two paring knives, a plate, and some disposable wooden forks from her bag.
“Ber, let’s slice some strawberries for samples. It’ll help sales.”
She had thought ahead—buyers were more likely to purchase if they could taste first.
“Yes. I’ll handle it. Please give me the knife.”
“Huh? I’m good with a knife too, you know.”
“I know. I’ve seen the house and crates you built yourself—I’d never doubt your skill. But I lived off my blade for years. Cutting is second nature to me. For example, I can carve a strawberry into the shape of a swan.”
“…A swan? Out of a strawberry? Really?”
“Yes. Leave it to me.”
Curious, Heidi handed him the knife.
Ber took a strawberry the size of Heidi’s palm and sliced it cleanly in half. Under his large hands, the fruit transformed into the body of a swan, wings outstretched.
“Wow…”
The detailing was delicate, even the feather-like cuts.
Finally, he sliced a slender neck from the center and bent it gracefully upward, completing the elegant shape.
It had taken him mere moments.
“It looks just like a real swan! Can you make other animals too?”
“Rabbits, phoenixes, even dragons—within reason.”
“I want to see them all! Please, make them!”
As requested, Ber continued carving. In no time, the plate before them had become a miniature zoo, full of strawberry animals.
The effect was more powerful than Heidi expected. Onlookers crowded around, eager to see the edible art.
“Mom! A bunny! Can I have one, please?” cried a chubby-cheeked child at the front, eyes sparkling.
“Of course. Take three,” Heidi said kindly. “One for Mom, one for Dad, and one for you.”
She handed the child three forks.
“Say thank you to the nice lady.”
“Thank you! Mom, it’s sooo good!”
The boy’s eyes went wide with delight after one bite.
“Really? Ma’am, could I buy two crates?” his mother asked immediately.
“Yes, that’ll be 60,000 rut,” Heidi replied.
“Oh, that’s cheaper than the fruit shop near our house—they sell a crate for 45,000.”
Just like that, Heidi sold nearly twenty crates to family customers alone.
“The sweetest strawberries I’ve ever had.”
“The aroma too—it’s the best I’ve tasted this spring.”
“They’re huge! Each one’s as big as my hand!”
The feedback was glowing. Heidi felt proud.
Her very first harvest was already receiving such praise. Perhaps the day wasn’t far when her farm in Lioum would thrive, reviving the land where her parents lay buried.
When the family customers dwindled, Heidi glanced at the remaining crates.
Now, if only some shopkeepers would come and buy in bulk…
Right on cue, a group of men approached, pushing a large folding cart. Clearly retailers.
“Boss, mind if we taste?” asked their leader, a middle-aged man with orange hair.
“Of course,” Heidi said.
With her permission, they picked up forks and sampled.
“…Special quality. The sugar content is high, the stems still fresh.”
“Yes. Customers won’t complain about these.”
Their professional evaluation was far more cautious than that of ordinary shoppers. Heidi watched nervously as the orange-haired man approached her.
“So, how much per crate?”
“That depends how many you’ll take. I can give a slight discount if you buy in bulk.”
“Well, if all our shops split the stock, we can probably move it all… Fine, we’ll take everything!”
“Originally, I sell them at 30,000 rut per crate. For bulk, I’ll do 28,000.”
But the man’s expression soured.
“Too expensive. You’re new here, aren’t you? First-timers usually give an even bigger discount.”
His tone made it clear—he was trying to lowball her.
“Yes,” Heidi admitted, her voice stiff.
“In this business, the custom is that newcomers give a little extra cut.”
“And?” she asked coolly.
“Twenty thousand. How about it?”
The number made Heidi’s blood boil. Her neck stiffened with anger.
“No.”
Her answer was sharp, final.
“What?”
“I said no. That price is robbery. At 20,000, I wouldn’t even cover fertilizer costs. I have to pay labor too, you know.”
The man’s jaw dropped. He had clearly assumed she’d be naïve.
“And besides—I already checked the market rates with my uncle Henry. Thirty thousand is fair. That’s already a bargain.”
She stood tall, glaring.
“Do you realize how rare strawberries of this quality are? Forget it. Next time, if I sell to you at all, I’ll add a ‘penalty fee’ for being cheeky—starting at 32,000. Got it?”
