Chapter 74

A house is not merely a space for eating, resting, and sleeping. A house is a space where I and my belongings reside. The way each resident lives is reflected in its very structure. That is why one can learn much about a society simply by looking at the form of its homes.

A single clan all living together in the same house, with no division of rooms, and a communal storehouse? One can tell that this is a house built in a clan-centric society, and that its members likely have no concept of private property.

Each family member… even a small child, has their own separate room, and the house is built with solid, immovable materials? One can easily surmise that in this society, each member of the family is a separate individual, and that they live a mostly sedentary life.

So, how were the homes of the native peoples in this area built? First, they would gather materials that could be found nearby to build a small hut. A large one would be about thirty square meters, or around nine pyeong. In other words, they had almost no surplus goods or private property to speak of. Nor did they spend much time in their homes. Every summer, they moved between various camps, continuing a life of hunting, gathering, and small-scale gardening. Most importantly, they were largely slash-and-burn farmers; when the fertility of the soil was depleted, they moved elsewhere. In other words, a house was not a permanent settlement. A house was a small space for sleeping. It did not require many furnishings inside. The only items stored within were simple tools like ornaments or stone axes.

And… now, that was no longer the case. They now had surplus goods to store. The need for hunting and gathering had diminished. A house had now become a permanent settlement. It was only natural that the native peoples would experience confusion in this suddenly changed life. In the end, they wandered between temporary tents and crudely made huts. In the midst of this abrupt environmental change, their leisure was limited to chatting with one another or occasional foraging trips.

As hunter-gatherers, the absolute intensity of their labor had been low, but they had killed time by constantly moving about all day long. Now that they had become settled people, a homebound life was forced upon them. In that now-empty life… a sense of void began to sprout. And when people have nothing to do, and a sense of void sprouts…

‘…Hah, shit. Doesn’t that bastard from the Tutelo tribe live four doors down? He’s living pretty well for a murderer.’ 

‘Those things killed plenty of our people, and now they’re whining that they’re the only ones who lost so many?’ 

‘This is annoying.’ 

‘I’m angry.’

And if they nurture those negative emotions while killing time by gossiping amongst themselves…

POP.

—”A-a fight! About three or four people are brawling in the street…!” 

—”Get them all right now and punish the one who started it!” 

—”Get Sir Nemo!”

It explodes. This is why you can’t give people a moment’s rest. When people are idle, they think too much. When they think too much, they get depressed. And when they get depressed, they lose their minds. But that didn’t mean I could force them to start reclaiming the wilderness without a moment to breathe. The intensity of labor required for a hunter-gatherer’s daily life and that required to reclaim the wilderness were on completely different levels.

“Hrmmm…”

And so, I stood before Eleanor and thought for a moment. The joy of decorating a ‘home’ is the joy of arranging one’s own possessions in a space one owns. To teach the native peoples the joy of decorating a home was to teach them the settled people’s concept of ownership. …It was fine. It was a good means to help the natives adapt to our community, and it wasn’t bad for social stability either. Don’t gamers, when they run out of content, just cling to the housing system? Decorating and fixing up a house is a never-ending task.

Alright.

“Then let’s convene the council at once. Hasn’t the perfect time arrived?”

***

It has already been ten years since I arrived in this place. Because of the butterfly effect, it was becoming increasingly difficult to predict exactly when people would live or die. I’d heard from Raleigh that a few individuals in England had lived lives on a different trajectory from history and had died on different dates. However, when it came to unavoidable health reasons in this era, the story was a bit different. For example, Philip II, who had suffered from overwork his entire life and died of liver cancer. I had figured that no matter how much he held on, unless he suddenly started a slow-aging diet, he would die within a margin of error of two to three years.

It is human nature to do anything when one feels that one is dying and becomes desperate. Philip II must have been the same. Knowing better than anyone that his son was a moron, his insides must have been churning, while his body refused to listen. I had been on pins and needles, worrying that such a desperate king might strike out at us, but now he was dead. So, there was nothing to worry about.

The state of total paralysis in Spain, for which I had waited so long. How long had I waited for the moment when Philip II would die and Philip III would ascend the throne? It’s natural for national affairs to fall into chaos when a monarch changes, but to have a foolish king on top of that? There was nothing more to say. Now was the time to sort out the matters that had been postponed due to war preparations.

The matter of housing supply was passed in the council in an instant.

***

It was late November, the off-season for farming. A time when the people of the settlement, regardless of their profession, could enjoy a bit more leisure. Winter had not yet fully arrived and there was no sign of snow, so it might have been the most suitable time for civil engineering work.

Gostango of the Tutelo tribe quietly looked around before asking an Englishman who had approached him. “What is a… sewer?”

“Uh, well, it’s a sort of path for draining dirty water.”

“Is that necessary because you people gather and live in one place? We don’t really need it…”

“You will need it now. Because you all live gathered together, too. We plan to build a sewer here, so please move your tents elsewhere.”

At the Englishman’s words, the other Tutelo people around Gostango tilted their heads, then began to clear away their own tents and huts. Some of them tore down or abandoned their homes without a second thought. After all, there wasn’t much inside, and they held the strong belief that they could just build it again. And so, they tore down their haphazardly built tents and huts and moved, just as Hewitt had told them.

But Gostango… before clearing his tent, his body flinched.

“You, what’s wrong?”

“Uh, no… It’s just… a strange feeling.”

“What is it? It’s not like you have much inside, do you?”

“No… Actually, I have quite a bit. There’s the steel axe and the steel plow I received last time.” Those items were his treasures. Thanks to that axe, it had become much easier to get lumber, and with the steel knife, the work of cutting meat and skinning hides from his hunts had become unbelievably easy. It was thanks to working in the fields a little longer than others, and wandering here and there to hunt foxes.

Ever since he had acquired them… something had felt strange. The amount of lumber piled up in his home had increased, and since the speed and delicacy with which he butchered his game were different from others, the number of hides he could trade for other goods had also increased. Because of this, his belongings had grown quite a bit, to the point where there was no place to step in his tent. In any case, there were many inconveniences. But thanks to that, his winters were warmer, and in the summer, he could obtain better food and fruit. His daily tasks had become incredibly easy, and as a result, the intensity of his work had increased, but his rest time had also increased. And this was the tent where he had gathered all those things. A tent barely large enough for one person to shelter from the wind and rain, crammed full of all sorts of belongings.

“Uh… c-can someone help me move my things? I’ll share some Shine Muscats with you later.”

At his words, a few others lazily got up and began to help Gostango move his belongings. After moving the tent, the space inside felt as wide as the spot where the Shine Muscats had been.

A few more days passed.

“Everyone, gather ’round!” This time, a man from the Chesapeake tribe came and shouted. When everyone had heard the bell and sluggishly gathered, he did a headcount, then gave instructions to the people behind him and spoke. “Everyone will have to move! You can’t live in tents forever, can you?”

“…” 

“…” 

“…”

Gostango blinked. Oh, really? It’s quite livable right now.

“Uh… is it really necessary to go through the trouble of moving? You’re saying we have to build our own houses again?”

“Yes. This was also decided by the council. Everyone, come out and walk to the east. You will see places where lines have been drawn on the ground.”

At those words, the people moved in a great mass again. Soon, Gostango saw places where lines had indeed been drawn on the ground. …But, are we really supposed to build houses on top of this? These are the boundaries for the houses? They’re so… big.

But when he looked to the side, it became clear that his assumption was correct. There were already houses that had been built, filling up those large spaces. Houses built by the English, the Chesapeake who had arrived earlier, and others. They were presented like a textbook. The meaning of this situation was clear.

“Each family is to choose one of those rectangular plots and build a house on it!”

Soon, lumber was provided to Gostango, and a very simple tool was placed in his hand. Again, just like when they had moved for the sewer construction, a few people stood there blankly, bewildered. But Gostango had a rough idea of what he had to build. Those strange houses. Houses with pointed roofs, with walls made of logs or wooden planks. For some reason, he felt that he had to build a house like that. He felt that the walls should be painted white, and the roof green. The moment he decided on the appearance, Gostango realized. He had been coveting those houses all along.

He looked to his side and saw another man who seemed to be building a large hut, the kind that shamans or chiefs used to live in. He covered the walls with tree bark and cut a window into the wall, something he had never seen before coming here. As they began to build these large houses, one by one, those who had been at a loss unconsciously began to follow their lead and build their own. They had naturally become accustomed to handling tools while working on logging and other simple tasks with the other settlers.

And so, one by one. Houses that were not cramped after two or three people sat or lay down, but large enough for ten people to enter, were being built. Gostango soon realized. For some reason, he felt that he would live in this house for the rest of his life. As he thought about how to decorate which wall inside, and where to place the partitions, his hands moved faster.

Once he had a house, he wanted things to fill it. He began to think about how he would fill it. He would stay in that house.

And just like that. The Tutelo people were becoming a settled people. They were becoming Virginians.

***

We laid simple sewer lines in various places and had the new residents build houses. The English carpenters supervised and helped out appropriately. That was it. And so, little by little, we supplied housing to the new settlers. You could say it was too unplanned, or that everyone could just live as they had before, but…

Heh, heheh, hehehehe. The old saying goes, if a man is standing, he wants to sit, and if he is sitting, he wants to lie down. And as you can see from how children love giant robots, palaces, and dinosaurs, humans are naturally drawn to things that are large and grand. I deliberately placed a few completed houses here and there near the new construction sites, like model homes. Houses that were two stories high and two or three hundred square meters in size.

Seeing those houses, and seeing their own household goods that had increased during their time in the settlement, could they resist building their own houses large? And as the size of their houses increased, they would want to put something else in them, wouldn’t they? Like newlyweds who have just moved into a bare, new house? Then, they would start to move on their own. They would each be given their own plot of land, so they would somehow learn to farm and cultivate their fields.

In a situation where everyone is busy with their own work, they will surely have fewer stray thoughts than when they had nothing to do and were just sitting around. As they break free from their previous state of having too much time and not knowing what to do, they will gradually become a settled people… farming the land they will each receive… and adapting to life in our community. And, well. They will repay our various gifts with something. And that’s how our community grows again. And as the community grows…

‘There’s a lot more we can do.’

Well, that’s for later. In games, housing is the end-game content, after all. For now, the natives probably don’t have much to do, so I plan to add more content. There must be something better.

***

After finishing his own house, Paulo went to the nearby church building and met Vicente.

“Ah, you’re the African from that time! A pleasure to meet you!” 

“Ah… yes.” 

“Have you finished your house? Looking at your hands, it seems you’ve worked hard.” 

“Ah, haha, yes, it’s finished.” He resisted the urge to say that he hadn’t been able to meet with his comrades for days because of it.

“Then since you’ve completed your house, you’ll be receiving land soon. Congratulations,” Vicente said. 

“…Land?” 

“Hm? You haven’t heard? Oh, this won’t do. Those who finish building their house are given priority in the distribution of newly reclaimed land. About fifty hectares.” 

“…How much is that?” 

“Ah, you don’t know? Well, you see.” 

“…” 

“…it’s about that much.”

Paulo, who had blinked for a moment at his words, immediately held up both hands, folding and unfolding his fingers. He calculated with trembling hands.

“S-so, you’re saying, that fifty hectares is… how much did you say it was?” 

“I’ll tell you again.”

And so, Paulo heard it again. And his convictions began to be seriously shaken.