And so, Oitotan departed for the North with Vicente.
“Now, then, let’s talk about this [Grape Juice] again. Ah, was my explanation too difficult? Let me explain… that is, how it’s good for the body.”
“…”
“…”
“No, no. Before that, let’s see if there is anyone who will take the [Soap] I mentioned earlier.”
“H-Here! I’ll take it! Give it all to me!”
“I must save some for the other tribes.”
“Sell it all to our tribe, you damn bastard!”
And he proceeded to demonstrate his genius, without reservation.
“Did you say this ‘soap’ thing is good for when my kitty is covered in mud?”
“No. Lord Nemo said cats must not use this thing called [Soap].”
“…”
“So, this product called [Soap].”
“You don’t need to keep emphasizing ‘soap’ like that.”
“What do you mean? I have never emphasized anything that wasn’t important. If I emphasized [Soap] by saying [Soap], it is only because the product [Soap] is just as important as [Raisins] or [Grape Enzymes] or [Grape Jam], which is why I emphasized the product known as [Soap].”
“St-Stop it!”
The most frightening part was that this ‘genius’ of his was not in the least bit intentional.
It was a ‘genius’ that flowed from him as naturally as a sweet scent wafts from honey, luring insects; as dander and fur-clumps are left behind by a passing cat; as pollen sticks to you when you touch a flower.
“Ch-Chief! Calm down! Calm down! Mierda! Sir Oitotan! What did you say this time to make him so angry!”
“Hm? I merely explained something he didn’t know. Look. This is a [Glass Jar], and to open it, you must perform the act of [Twisting the Lid].”
“Aaaaaargh! L-Let me hit that man just once!”
“Oitotan! Y-Your mouth! Shut your mouth!”
Though it did cause minor conflicts, misunderstandings, and emotional rifts.
In any case.
It was a complete sell-out.
Everywhere Oitotan went, people clamored, asking if he had any more items to exchange. Some even resorted to threatening Oitotan with violence, trying to snatch the new products.
“Ev-Everyone, calm down! Please, calm down! Is this the first and last time we’ll see each other? Are we not all members of the same ‘Community’?”
“That’s right. Even though you don’t know [Soap], and you don’t know [Grape Jam], and you don’t know [Raisins], and you don’t know [Vitamins], we are all.”
“Oitotan, for the love of God, shut up!”
Of course, Vicente, suffering greatly, managed to calm them down and, with great difficulty, silence Oitotan’s hell-mouth.
…This happened many times.
And every time Oitotan soared, and every time Vicente collapsed in exhaustion.
A new vitality swept through the regions of the Community they visited.
The new products flowed in all directions, riding the intricate gift-exchange network of Bronze, Platinum, and Emerald tiers.
Even as they shivered in the cold of an unprecedented cold wave, they did not hesitate to trade their furs for the new goods.
And,
“I will present this as he is a guest of our chief. This is a product called [Vitamins].”
“Hahaha, welcome! Before we enjoy the feast, let us all wash our hands with this thing called [Soap]!”
Oitotan’s unique brand of deception and showmanship naturally spread among the American tribes.
They didn’t just use the new products for showing off. They used them to win over other tribes—those who had refused to join the Community, who had ignored the thousands of recruitment messages.
And so, slowly,
“This [Grape Juice] is just so good for a married couple’s love.”
“Look. Isn’t drinking [Herb Tea] with [Grape Enzymes] so much more enjoyable?”
The peaceful, elegant conquest began once more.
“We We accept your proposal. We will join the network.”
The gift-exchange network finally crossed the Appalachian Mountains—a barrier that, in the original history, the United States only crossed after its independence.
The tribes under the Shawnee Confederacy, who lived in southern Ohio, were slowly absorbed into the ‘Community’, establishing themselves as Gold and Silver tiers. The day would come when Emerald and Diamond would bloom from among them.
And, to the north of that.
The Community’s merchants and missionaries, using boats and sleds, traveled over the Great Lakes—which remained frozen until April—to reach northern Ohio, Michigan, and the Illinois region.
There, they found the people who would later be known to Europeans as the Iroquois League.
“We must deliberate. Should we end our long-standing hostility with those to the south and join this larger community?”
“I heard the Shawnee to the south have also joined. What more needs to be said? Their laws forbid war and raiding, both within and outside the Community. Even if we join, there will be no retaliation.”
“And they bring methods to fight the diseases! Look at our old enemies; they remain healthy! For the sake of survival, we must choose this!”
“…”
“…”
“…”
The chiefs and council members of each tribe gathered, holding an extraordinary meeting to decide the fate of the entire confederacy. They argued for days before finally reaching a conclusion.
“For now, let us allow their so-called ‘missionaries’ to enter.”
And just like that.
“Brother Richard! They are lowering their guard! We’ve been permitted to enter!”
“Ah, at last! The angels watch over us!”
Richard, the Community’s priest and missionary, was able to safely enter the territory of the Mohawk tribe.
“Be careful. I say this because I know you were only recently ordained, but you must take care not to dismiss them as savages or mistake their customs for devil worship.”
“You are not the missionary. I am, am I not?”
“…”
“And, I prefer the title ‘Pastor’ over ‘Priest’. I would appreciate it if you called me that.”
“Understood.”
“Well then, I shall call you if I require assistance.”
“Understood.”
The young and confident Richard dismissed the English and Algonquin traders who had frequented the area and advanced alone.
The Mohawk people tilted their heads, curious about his strange attire, and drew closer. Richard, in turn, offered them a benevolent smile and walked toward them.
He was a Scotsman, a Presbyterian pastor, and in this strange new continent, he had found true faith.
He would now enlighten them.
***
…Oh.
I blinked, staring at the list. I questioned my own eyesight, but the tablet in front of me insisted that the numbers I was seeing were accurate.
That’s right. I, a person, can make mistakes. Excel does not.
20,000 refugees had arrived at our settlement. I recalled the Queen’s words.
—”How is it? I tried to do it just as you wished.”
—”You said you wanted to save as many as possible, so I gathered refugees from all over England.”
—”It turned out to be enough people to build a decent-sized city.”
—”It wasn’t difficult. I simply beckoned, telling them there was new land and new homes, and they all followed as if possessed.”
—”I was lucky.”
…There’s no way.
I found myself wondering what the hell the Queen had done in England. What on earth did she do that made the English people follow her “as if possessed” just because she beckoned?
No, and if a population of ten thousand people was moved across the country in just a few months, what kind of uproar must have occurred in England? When I asked her about that
—”Do not worry. I quelled that much of a disturbance before I left.”
—”And I only played a small ‘prank’ while I was at it, huhuhu.”
…Somehow, I found myself terrified to learn any more.
In any case, well, if the result was good, then all’s well that ends well.
Forcing myself to think that way, I put the tablet down.
As May passed and winter finally began to recede, Croatoan remained peaceful.
My grapes, being cultivated in greenhouses, had grown well, suffering less damage from the cold than I had expected. The highest-grade Shine Muscat, the kind usually reserved for European royalty, was being grown in my smart farm.
And among the people, there were no reports of major injuries or damage from the cold wave.
Thanks to the prevention measures we had established over the preceding months, there were no deaths, and injuries were few enough to be counted on one hand. This was Eleanor’s achievement.
Now that the great crisis had passed, all that remained was to enjoy the peace while receiving the daily reports.
I heard stories of new English villages being established in various places, and of new native tribes coming down from the north to join our Community, and then a report that Oitotan’s new products seemed to be selling quite well in the north.
“Lord Nemo!”
What is it? Why must I hear such a desperate shout the very moment I think I can relax?
When I opened the door, Hewitt was standing between the vegetable patch and the garden, panting heavily.
What were Hewitt’s duties again? Records, administration, managing the English, and…
“The m-missionary! The one who left for the north!”
Religious affairs.
Especially ordaining priests and dispatching missionaries.
As I listened to the rough outline of the situation, I felt my mouth go dry. I asked Hewitt:
“Can you explain in more detail?”
“It all started when the missionary was dispatched to the Haudenosaunee League, which you call the ‘Iroquois League’. It seems they were already considering joining our Community, so they permitted the missionary ‘entry’. Our missionary, Richard the Scotsman, entered the Mohawk territory with the traders. And that’s when it happened.”
***
“My friends.”
The missionary, Richard, gathered the people and climbed onto a high rock. He then spoke to them.
“You are all truly fortunate. For it is God who wove our fates together, allowing us to meet.”
He had already learned the local trade language before being dispatched. Being a bright man, he had picked it up quickly.
“You are now surrounded by treasures that no wealthy or fortunate man on earth has ever obtained, with only the path to eternal happiness remaining. How moving is that? You will live forever, adorned with things far more splendid than mere shell necklaces, coral, or all the flashy trinkets our merchants have brought. And that’s not all!”
And, he knew the hearts of men.
“If you walk this path with me, your hunts will be successful. Your families will be healthy. Your souls will be strong.”
Wealth, health, and eternal life.
Who could possibly refuse these?
Within days, people were whispering and gathering at Richard’s words.
At first, they came as spectators, drawn by his strange, clumsy accent and unfamiliar appearance. But soon, they were gathering regularly before him to hear about his ‘way to live well.’
“Truly, can we live well just by closing our eyes and thinking of this ‘Him’? Just by gathering like this?”
“Of course. Of course, you can.”
“Then, what about us? What do we do?”
“Naturally, all of you gathered here have received grace, and you will all enjoy a happy, eternal life.”
They listened intently to the legend-like stories from a foreign land, which they were hearing for the first time. To be honest, they didn’t really understand them, but captivating tales flowed from the missionary’s mouth.
The story of a king who ruled tens of thousands, the story of a rich man who had gold and jewels and lost it all, and the story of a prince who moved his people to a blessed land…
Stories of eternal life…
They were intoxicated by them.
“But, for those who do not walk the same path as us, an eternal hellfire awaits! Forever! The Lord, jealous and wrathful, has prepared eternal punishment for the unbelievers!”
Conversely, they were also terrified by the ‘eternal punishment’ that Missionary Richard spoke of.
“We are all sinners! If we do not repent, even one day sooner, we will all walk the path of death! Come, gather, and be baptized! Declare before God that you will decisively sever the links to your former, ignorant lives!”
Richard triumphantly wielded two great swords, one in each hand.
Eternal life and eternal punishment had become his favored weapons.
When he swung the sword of eternal life, dozens of people applauded in ecstasy.
When he swung the sword of eternal punishment, hundreds were baptized in fear.
‘Just as I thought… frightening them by calling them sinners is far more effective for expanding the faith.’
In an instant, dozens had been baptized and become Christians. He trembled with fulfillment and a sense of accomplishment.
I-I am leading hundreds of saints.
At this rate, gathering thousands, even tens of thousands, of saints would not be impossible. If that happened, it would be wonderful to build a great chapel here and settle down.
Ah, how wonderful would that be?
If that were to happen, ‘He’ (Nemo) himself would surely come here to see the grand chapel he had built. ‘He’ would be so pleased to see how His own church had grown and would praise Richard greatly.
How astonished would He be to learn that a pastor, who had only just joined the Community, had achieved all this?
“Fear hell. Seek not the things of a moment, but follow the eternal! ‘But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal!'” (Matt 6:20)
At that thought, Richard pursued his missionary work with even greater vigor. He built a simple chapel and led his many saints before it.
And,
“You must all realize that He atoned for the sins of your ancestors! The only way for you wretched sinners to find the path to life is through the Lord alone! Enter ye in at the strait gate: for wide is the gate, and broad is the way, that leadeth to destruction, and many there be which go in thereat: Because strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it!” (Matt 7:13-14)
“Aaaaaah!”
“Thus, if you sinners do not pray and devote yourselves, destruction will eventually find.”
“Excuse me?”
“Who dares… who interrupts the sermon?”
“Th-That would be me. It’s just that.”
“Speak quickly. The next part of my story is urgent.”
“My grandfather, he was respected by everyone his entire life as a wonderful man. But he passed away a short while ago. So, which… which place did he go? Heaven or hell?”
“It is too late.”
“What do you mean, ‘too late’.”
“He has gone to hell as a sinner.”
“Th-Then, what about our ancestors? All those who never met you?”
“Is there anything more to say? They are all suffering, of course.”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“That is why you must all save those around you from death before it is too late, to lift them up! Therefore.”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“Why is there no response?”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“Why are you all… looking at me like that?”
Hundreds of cold, silent stares pierced Richard like arrows.