The Happy Days of Being a Factory Owner in London – Chapter 1
by MonoThe Train
First pot of gold.
【■■■ releases a brand new DLC! Available for a limited time!】
【■■■-DLC Fog City. A new map, new NPCs, new professions/animals/plants/fish/facilities! A brand new high-freedom gameplay experience. Earn more money and build your home!】
【Fog City: A famed city of the golden age, where pioneers sounded the horn of industry, and the mists of theology and the bizarre were gradually dispelled…】
【Load this DLC and travel to the new world?】
【No/Yes】[09:99:99]
Arna, who had been busy watering her crops one by one, paused in surprise.
A friend had recommended the game ■■■ to her. It was supposedly a retro farming game created by a developer who had integrated the remains of various historical farming games and rewritten the story, its main selling point being the use of new technology in an old-fashioned setting.
After the Great Disaster, very little data from ancient civilizations had been preserved, let alone game data. The moment the game was released, it caused an explosion of excitement among gaming enthusiasts worldwide.
But what was the fun in digging up weeds and planting crops with a hoe? Had she not suffered enough at her day job? Or was her education so poor that she didn’t like using drones for remote operations?
At first, Arna had been dismissive. Now, with over five hundred hours of playtime, she had to admit the game was more than a little interesting.
She never expected, however, that the game would get a major injection of funding to develop a completely new historical setting and gameplay.
Since she was on vacation and had time to sink into the game, she quickly scanned the various introductions in the pop-up window, her mind sliding over the long, long snippets of text, finally summarizing it into a few key points.
Rich city folk are short on vegetables.
New version, new map, new buildings! Awesome! Let’s go!
Arna clicked the option on the right, confirming at light speed, lest the game devs—who never played by the rules—make the update card disappear before the countdown even finished.
Next, she skillfully opened the purchase page, scrolled to the bottom of the new terms of service window with a single click, breezed past the long and tedious clauses, and clicked ‘Confirm,’ ‘Confirm,’ ‘Confirm.’
After three clicks, a brown progress bar finally popped up and slowly scrolled forward, eventually turning a conspicuous fluorescent green.
【The train to London will arrive in ten minutes. Are you ready?】
A direct start on the new map?
Heck yeah! She thought she’d have to start a new file from scratch!
As everyone knows, when exploring a new map, your old currency might become unusable (after all, the new map could be in some wilderness inhabited only by primitive people who only recognize seashells). And while the food in your inventory wouldn’t become inedible, you might not have enough.
This was especially true when fighting monsters, since eating was linked to health recovery in the vast majority of games.
So, apart from players who furiously grinded their combat and defense stats the moment they started, wise players would replace all their tools that had durability loss, and stock up on food that increased satiety to avoid dying on the spot and having to reload a save.
Arna was no exception.
After all, she was just an ordinary aficionado of dumpster diving, home building, and farming!
So she expertly dashed to her warehouse and grabbed her Golden Hoe, Golden Axe, and Golden Pickaxe.
Then she ran to the refrigerator, took a 999-stack of food, and left the other slots empty.
Don’t ask why she didn’t use the tools with the highest durability. It was because the gold ones were shiny and looked good.
She had a whole chest of them stockpiled. She still hadn’t used them all.
And so, with all her essential items packed, Arna happily slung her bag over her shoulder, went upstairs via a simple wooden staircase, pulled out a gold coin to buy a ticket, and waited for the train to arrive.
“Logically speaking,” she said, full of confidence, “if I’m hitting a new map with top-tier equipment, won’t I be totally OP, steamrolling the starter zone?”
After all, how hard could a DLC for a farming game be?
It’s not like it would make her build a house in a swamp, forcing her to swat mosquitoes, fight vine tentacles, frogs, and fish-men while she sweated over her crops, right?
Or maybe she’d have to fight bugs while mining for special ores just to be able to cultivate the land there?
Worst-case scenario, the developers would just mix in some Cthulhu1 elements—throw in some sacrifices, octopuses, and eyes from all directions to drop the player’s sanity stat and give them a little scare.
Whatever. She’d even brought plenty of Flower Tea in preparation! It was a comprehensive, multi-layered defense against the developers’ little tricks!
“Tickets, please!”
“Could you have your tickets ready, please?”
Outside, the ticket inspector’s loud reminders could be heard. Inside the carriage, Arna stared woodenly at the table piled high with food and her inventory, which had been forcibly nerfed. She was speechless.
…Goddammit. Not only was the currency in this new map incompatible, but it also didn’t support her 999-stacking mod.
She hadn’t packed much Flower Tea, so that was holding up okay. But most of the sandwiches she’d stuffed her inventory with had dropped out. Dozens were now piled on the table, while the rest had vanished, probably fallen out of the carriage through some bug.
She squeezed further into the carriage, trying to trigger a clipping bug to pick up her dropped items. She also checked the floor beneath her feet for any sandwich-stealing monsters, but found nothing.
Damn it, my sandwiches—it took me so long to make them—
What was more worrying was where she was going to find something to hold all the sandwiches still piled on the table.
Use the remaining slots in her inventory?
No, a smart player would find another way. For instance, by using local materials or exploiting a bug.
Arna looked around the carriage but found no clues.
Great. No trash cans to rummage through, no curtains to tear down.
The next second, the carriage door slid open. A tall, thin man of about thirty or forty stood outside, clearly the ticket inspector.
Arna’s gaze sharpened instantly.
How about this: first, I give the ticket inspector the ticket. While he’s looking down at it, I knock him out, then use his clothes to make a bundle for the sandwiches?
Seemed feasible.
After all, based on her experience scavenging all over the game, if a player could take it, it meant the developers intended for the player to have it.
With that in mind, Arna held out her ticket.
Being stared at so intently by the person in front of him, who was clutching the ticket without letting go, the ticket inspector, Charlie, felt a shiver run down his spine.
…No way. Don’t tell me he saw me eyeing the sandwiches on the table just now?
It was just past one in the afternoon. He had overslept that morning because of the bad weather, earning him a scolding from his wife and causing him to miss breakfast. Then he’d had to cover a shift for a colleague at noon, so he still hadn’t eaten.
And the sandwiches on the table were piled high, each one looking fresh and generously filled. Charlie couldn’t help but stare.
It would be a while before the next stop, not to mention that the next station didn’t have a refreshment room. Maybe he could buy some sandwiches from this fellow?
Driven by hunger, he couldn’t help but consider the possibility. He’d just been trying to figure out how to strike up a conversation with this passenger.
The passenger before him was a young man in his twenties, with light blond hair and blue eyes. His long hair was tied back in a ponytail. He wore a faded, wide-collared shirt under a loose tweed short coat, and his high-waisted canvas trousers were tucked tightly into long boots. The fabric was cheap, and the style was out of fashion; he didn’t look to be in a very good financial state.
Perhaps he’d be willing to sell him one to try?
With this thought, and under the great guidance of his stomach, which was twitching madly with hunger, Charlie cleared his throat and began with an all-purpose opening line.
“…Lovely weather today, isn’t it?” he said, forcing a smile.
Arna didn’t look at what text was popping up in the dialogue bubble. She was still waiting for the ticket inspector to look down at the ticket, making it convenient for her to execute the next step of her plan.
—Attack with the Golden Axe or the Golden Hoe? His health bar looks low, but what if this NPC is secretly a hidden boss? Maybe I should use the sword with 9999 damage first?
Realizing the passenger remained silent and was still staring at him, Charlie instantly felt his intentions had been seen through. “Alright, my apologies. I was just wondering, how much for a sandwich? To be honest, I’m a bit hungry…”
The trade module on the interface lit up. Arna, who had been about to casually pull a hammer from behind her back, froze.
In the silence, Charlie pressed on, steeling himself. “…Sir, one penny2 for a sandwich, how about it?”
The other man still didn’t speak, but he didn’t refuse outright, which meant there was room to negotiate. He just wasn’t satisfied with the price.
The main thing was, he was really hungry.
He had to have one of these sandwiches today!
Still silence.
“Two pence for a sandwich?” Charlie ventured again.
He paused, and seeing no reaction, he named the highest price he could afford. He reached into his pocket with his other hand, took out his loose change, and placed it on the seat. “Three pence each, and not a penny more. This is all I have with me. And you know, for this price, you could buy two sandwiches on the streets of London!”
Arna looked at the panel and had a sudden realization.
So this is the introductory quest for the game’s new business management mode?
…But to steal the player’s own rations to start a shop, isn’t that a bit stingy? And a bug even wiped out her stock!
Seeing the 3 pence/each on the trade panel—a price higher than the market rate—Arna enthusiastically took a sandwich, stuffed it into the ticket inspector’s hand, and then took his three coins.
What did this mean?
It meant she was going to be rich! Opportunities to sell a common-quality item for more than the market price were rare!
As it turned out, her judgment was correct.
After the ticket inspector successfully purchased a sandwich, the diligent NPC returned her ticket and went back to work.
And the other NPCs, saying things like “The inspector said there are lots of sandwiches for sale here,” “I’d like one too,” and “Great, there’s actually food to buy on this shabby train,” all came running over to buy sandwiches.
It was a standard mechanic of management sims: as long as the shop was open, customers would pop up endlessly from who knows where.
She handed out the last two sandwiches that wouldn’t fit in her inventory, served the final customer, then closed the carriage door, planning to rest for a bit.
The map in the top-right corner showed that she was half an hour from her destination. Her stamina had drained quickly while selling sandwiches, and she needed to sleep to replenish it.
Arna hugged her pack, leaned against the window, closed her eyes, and fell asleep.
Meanwhile, John Watson, holding two sandwiches and carefully making his way back down the narrow corridor to his carriage, felt extremely lucky.
“Look what I’ve bought, Holmes,” he said with a smile. “The last two! What incredible luck!”
For a case Holmes had recently taken on, they had been running all over the place for the past two days and hadn’t eaten any proper food. Their stomachs had long been protesting, and they were just waiting to get back to London to have a great meal and reward themselves.
But before that feast, no one would object to finding something to fill their stomachs, would they?
Watson closed the door, handed one sandwich to his companion first, and only then sat down, tore open the wrapping, and took a bite.
He had expected food sold on a train to be rather average, but it was surprisingly good.
“Mmm… it’s cold, but it tastes pretty good,” Watson said indistinctly, his short mustache dotted with crumbs. He didn’t forget to urge his companion, “Hurry up and eat, Holmes. You must be starving too.”
His companion, who he called Holmes, held the sandwich, seemingly still pondering the case they had just concluded.
A moment later, he came back to his senses, unhurriedly unwrapped the paper, and took a taste.
The author has something to say:
New book is out! Posting the first chapter! It’s a lighthearted story!
I’m starting with this one to get back into the swing of things. This contracted novel won’t be dropped. I’ll be refreshing the comments section often, so I’m asking all you little angels for your collections and comments!
【As noted in the synopsis, I’ll mention it again here: In the early stages of this novel, due to the historical setting, the female lead is mistaken for a male by those around her because of her clothing. There is a ‘Mulan’ segment where the female lead is unaware she’s cross-dressing. Her character model is not male, and there are no gender-change elements later on.】
The historical background is a fictionalized 19th century. Besides Sherlock Holmes, I’ll be mixing in various other literary classics, like Oliver Twist, Jane Eyre, Pride and Prejudice, etc. The Holmes is the original book version, not Cumberbatch’s Sherlock. Also, the game’s setting incorporates a lot of survival, base-building, farming, and fishing games, but that’s not important since our farmer is going to the city to work, lol. Ahh, games are so much fun!
Especially fishing. In all sorts of games, I do nothing but fish like crazy, just mooching off my teammates. It’s just so much fun, makes me too happy to even think about writing (?)
- Early 19th-century British trains were not equipped with dining cars. Some train stations had refreshment rooms for passengers, but they were few and far between and relatively expensive.
- The sandwich originated in 18th-century Britain. After the advancement of industrialization in the 19th century, it became a common food for the working class due to its portability and low cost. At that time, a construction worker’s wage was about 15-20 shillings per week, with 1 shilling = 12 pence. I couldn’t find more detailed information on sandwich prices, so I estimated the market price to be about 1-2 pence per sandwich.
- The farmer’s clothing is based on Constable’s The Hay Wain and other sources. If you’re interested, you can look up this painting; the light and composition are very beautiful! She is mistaken for a man because the female lead chose a shirt-and-trousers set. In that era, women were expected to wear skirts. The few women’s trousers that existed didn’t appear until the late 19th century for the convenience of cycling, and they looked a lot like short bloomers.
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