The Boss King actually disguised himself as a novice village chief?! Chapter 52 - 52 52 Undead I'm Skilled at Harvesting Leeks

52: Chapter 52 Undead: I’m Skilled at Harvesting Leeks 52: Chapter 52 Undead: I’m Skilled at Harvesting Leeks Lind looked at the few houses that had been erected in just one day and night, a bit dazed.

Wood served as the fra, while broken stones and cent filled the gaps.

The slanted triangular rooftops, with their steep slopes, allowed the accumulated snow and pouring rain to slide off more easily.

The NPC dormitories built for won and children looked quite decent, situated more towards the few houses inside Star Dragon Ridge—a sense that this was to be turned into a residential area.

Double beds were used throughout to save space, with small partitioned areas next to them for two children to live.

“Dormitory-style wardrobes,” Lind muttered as he looked at the familiar room layout, his lips twitching slightly.

Standard six-person dormitory rooms, truly worthy of you all.

Lind left the won’s dormitory and even checked the sturdiness of the room doors, making sure no perverted Undead would sneak in at night.

One shouldn’t have too high moral expectations for players, because the old Lind had played that way too.

The won and children entered the rooms and, seeing the space, wept with joy.

To have a place of their own was like a dream co true.

“Praise be to Lord Lind!” the won and children thanked him sincerely.

The Undead worked for Lind, so thanking him posed no issue.

The administrative office had been constructed, but with the thod of pouring cent and filling it with broken stones, it was impossible to move in within a day.

“A tavern?” Lind looked at the building not part of the original plan.

These Undead sure liked to add so variety for themselves.

He thought back carefully and rembered an Undead had asked if they could build a tavern, but at that ti, Lind had other things on his mind and had nonchalantly nodded his agreent.

He hadn’t expected construction to be this fast.

Was this the mark of an infrastructure fanatic?

When he recalled it, dozens of players building houses restlessly day and night, akin to a group of laborers with endless stamina, it made sense that construction was rapid.

“What’s a dieval fantasy world without a tavern?”

The Undead were quite pleased with their own construction work.

A large group of Undead surrounded the tavern, offering comnts and critiques.

“With a tavern, can we get tavern maidens to refresh?”

“Drinks, give a Jack Welsh,” an Undead had already started shouting, “Vodka with ice, li juice, ginger beer.

Oh, and most importantly…

add a little bit of love.”

“I think the tavern needs a catchy na, how about ‘Big Bird Spinning’?”

Lind pushed open the door of the small cabin, shutting out the voices of the Undead outside.

The flas burning in the fireplace raised the temperature inside the tavern.

To maintain warmth, there weren’t many windows in the building, nor were they large; without the campfire’s glow, visibility would be very poor.

The floor was paved with stones instead of cent.

A few mismatched tables grew haphazardly around the tavern.

There were clear imitations.

Taverns like those of Warcraft, Wizard Inn, and others.

“How do you find it?”

“We need a tavern keeper,” Lind glanced at Old Pete who had followed him.

Old Pete, who managed the food at Star Dragon Ridge, had Lind’s trust; it was clear he wasn’t suitable to be the tavern keeper.

The Undead weren’t so easy to serve.

“Exactly, and also a chef, waitresses, prostitutes, bards,” Pete said, then catching Lind’s steady gaze, he tugged at his goatee: “Ha, you know, it reminds of the days when I’d finish fighting and spend ti at the tavern.”

His eyes drifted, lost in nostalgia.

He would drink deeply, easing the stress among the won’s giggles and n’s curses.

Sotis he’d get so dwarves to perform a ridiculous play about a prince’s struggle for inheritance, then kick their stumpy backsides with his boot before tossing a few Gold Coins their way.

Now, all that was left was this life.

“There’ll be days like that soon,” Lind said.

“It will liven up.”

Lind didn’t have any usable NPCs to handle accounts and business, which required good brains—needless to ntion the won and children, who at best could sweep and do chores, but were incapable of more.

The Soldiers weren’t considered.

But that was okay, he could employ the Undead.

After all, he wasn’t going to provide anything for the tavern, just treat it as a gaming hall for the Undead, a place for them to chat, boast, and exchange information.

As soon as Lind issued the job posting for a “Tavern Manager,” the undead applicants ca forth imdiately.

Lind felt that he had not been clear enough, and in order to narrow down the more than fifty interviewees…

that’s right, all the undead from Star Dragon Ridge who were online had shown up.

He laid out his terms, “You must maintain the daily operations of the tavern.

Whether to hire other staff for the establishnt is entirely up to the tavern manager, including the employees’ salaries, of course.

The tavern manager is solely responsible for updating the inventory, sales, and service.”

“What about the salary?”

“Commission,” Lind said, “whether the business does well or poorly is all on the manager.”

He truly wasn’t interested in earning Gold Coins.

To him, Gold Coins were rely a tool to keep the undead motivated to work, and managing the currency to prevent inflation was also a way of safeguarding Lind’s interests.

So of the undead had co out of curiosity, thinking there was no downside, but when they heard they’d be taking on responsibility, they were already considering beating a retreat.

Earning money was never as important as leveling up.

Spending most of their ti inside a tavern playing manager, wasn’t that just working a job at a different location?

The number had halved, but there were still over twenty left.

Lind added another requirent, “You should know a bit about service and managent, and it would be best if you can cook.”

He was a Lord; he had the final say.

Steam buns, got a problem with that?

“Damn, am I going to be a chef inside the ga?

My Lord, I’ve watched ‘Food Wars!’ People could burst out of their clothes eating my cooking, let do it!”

“Lord, I’m a top-rated chef!”

“My Lord, I cook, and I can dance a striptease for the custors while serving!”

Alright, alright, the internal competition has started again.

Lind pointed out the noisy ones and waved them away with a gesture, “You’re all eliminated.”

The ousted undead muttered to themselves, but they didn’t say much.

They were just making noise and didn’t really want to be a tavern manager.

What mattered most was having the prestige of being the first to open a shop in the ga.

How cool was that?

While Lind had not thought about operating any business model or earning money, that didn’t an he intended to create a money pit.

As the selection continued, the number of undead dwindled, leaving only two standing before Lind at the end.

One was the familiar face Romantic Bumbler, and the other was an irreverent undead with the ID “Oh Haichen I Announce You.”

“Tell about your business strategies,” Lind said.

Romantic Bumbler raised her hand, “I’ll go.

If I get this job, I will put my effort into researching the nu and creating various delicacies to attract the undead with absolute deliciousness.”

Lind: “…”

Your self-serving cutesiness is adorable, but considering you might be a male undead, I’ll hold off saying anything.

He looked toward Oh Haichen I Announce You.

The candidate cleared his throat, “My Lord, I’d collect food from the undead and brew so drinks, ensuring the tavern operates normally.

However, in my opinion, neither food nor drink are sufficient to retain a solid clientele.

We need to offer more services.”

“Oh?”

“We could introduce a mbership system, offer custom services, and then each week give the undead who spend the most an opportunity for naming rights, such as naming a cocktail on the nu after them, provided they were the top spender the previous week.”

Lind’s eyebrows lifted, signaling the candidate to continue.

“Next, we have entertainnt, which is quite simple.

We could create so card gas and even organize tournants for gas like Fight the Landlord.”

Fight the Landlord, you just ntioned Fight the Landlord, right?

A whole bunch of the apocalyptic Four Horsen not saving the world but playing Fight the Landlord in my Star Dragon Ridge outpost, don’t you find that absurd?

And this whole naming rights idea, he found it to be a serious issue considering the ridiculous nas of these undead.

He distinctly rembered an undead in his territory with the ID “The Place of Curling.” If that person really did spend the most, would he really allow others to order a drink by saying, “Give a cup of ‘The Place of Curling'”?

That’s hard to keep a straight face for.

“This is just the beginning,” continued Oh Haichen I Announce You.

“Later on, we could develop a card ga unique to our world.

We might copy Hearthstone or Gwent…

Uh,”

He glanced at Lind, “Anyway, we can design a ga where the undead spend money to buy card packs, and if they don’t spend, they can’t get powerful cards.

Of course, this is all in my preliminary ideas, because it needs to be carefully designed to encourage them to spend more willingly.”

“Then there’s a seating fee, ti-limited seating, and kicking people out when their ti is up, no loitering just to snag a seat.”

“Also, performances; we could charge the undead Gold Coins for the chance to perform, and then we could also collect a fee from those seated when they watch the show.”

Romantic Bumbler at the side had already turned blank.

She had not thought it through that much; all she had been considering was how she could happily eat as a tavern manager.

Was having such a scheming heart really necessary to run a tavern?

Lind felt the sa, well then, it seems it’s best to have you, your own kind, to harvest the crops utterly.

“Tavern manager, it’s you!”