Otome Game Mob Villain

Chapter 686

After the negotiations concluded and dusk fell, a standing reception banquet was held at the Ratfolk chieftain's mansion.

At this point, it’s practically tradition.

The town we passed through on our way here in the charcoal-fueled carriage was filled with buildings slightly shorter to accommodate the locals, but the two-story chieftain’s mansion was surprisingly similar in design to the others we’d visited.

Since the mansion likely also serves as a diplomatic venue, it might have been built to accommodate taller guests as well.

The banquet hall was the largest among all the chieftain mansions we’d visited so far—and the number of aristocratic attendees was also the highest, which was a bit surprising.

Since the ratfolk are shorter, there wasn’t as much of an oppressive feeling compared to the banquets with the ursine and bovine tribes.

On the other hand, there were far more young ladies coming to greet us, and since they were all at eye level, this was by far the most difficult reception to navigate politely.

Amon, standing beside me, seemed to feel the same.

Additionally, after exchanging greetings with us, many of the young ladies also gathered around the knights assigned as my guards.

Apparently, tall, well-built imperial humans with sharp, non-beastly features were highly appealing to the ratfolk.

*"Just so you know, seduction tactics are a possibility—so while you're in Zubera on official duty, absolutely no fooling around with beastfolk. If it happens, demotion at the very least. Worst case, expulsion from the Baldia Knights."*

We had given the knights strict orders before entering Zubera, so I wasn’t too worried. Still, when I subtly smiled at them, a few who had been grinning foolishly turned pale and nodded repeatedly as if to say, *"We understand."*

Good grief. As if I didn’t have enough on my plate already.

The headaches never end.

But the surprises didn’t stop there.

Once the greetings with the aristocrats settled down, I took a breath and glanced at the banquet tables laden with various dishes.

"Hey, Amon."

"Yeah? What is it, Rid?"

I gestured toward the tables with my eyes.

"Why is there *this* much food piled up here too?"

Indeed, the colorful array of dishes was heaped onto large platters in quantities rivaling—if not surpassing—those at the ursine and bovine banquets.

Incidentally, ratfolk cuisine consisted mostly of dishes like meat buns and dumplings—wheat-skinned parcels filled with ingredients—as well as sweet-and-savory glazed meatballs, all bite-sized and easy to pop into one’s mouth.

I suppose, being ratfolk, they preferred food that was easy to stuff into their cheeks.

Watching the young lords and ladies happily munching away was downright adorable—almost therapeutic.

(Though, of course, none could compare to Mel’s cuteness.)

Fara, on the other hand, seemed too embarrassed to eat like that in front of me—I don’t think I’ve ever seen her stuff her cheeks like this.

Once everything settles down, it’d be fun to visit the ratfolk territory with everyone and enjoy a meal together.

As I scanned the room with that thought, I noticed something odd—there weren’t any particularly large or voracious-looking individuals around.

"Ah, that’s probably because the ratfolk, despite their small stature, have the highest birth rate among the tribes," Amon mused.

"Wait, they have the *highest* birth rate…?"

Tilting my head, I took another look around.

Now that he mentioned it, there *did* seem to be an unusually high number of young ladies and lords.

Watching the tables more carefully, I noticed groups of five or six people piling food onto their plates at once, causing the dishes to disappear at an alarming rate.

"Alright, let’s dig in!"

"Dear, make sure to get enough for the children too."

"Leave it to me."

"Father, extra for me, please!"

"Ah, no fair, Brother! I want extra too!"

"That’s right! Big Brother’s being selfish!"

"Alright, alright."

A harmonious family of five—a couple, one boy, and two girls—chattered away as they filled their plates.

Though their plates weren’t particularly large, the sheer number of people meant the food vanished quickly.

And, surprisingly, each person took more than I expected.

Every table in the banquet hall had similar clusters of ratfolk, all eating with the same enthusiasm.

I’d assumed their small size meant smaller appetites, but apparently, that wasn’t the case.

If *all* the beastfolk tribes ate this much, it made sense why even the vast plains of the ursine and bovine tribes couldn’t sustain domestic self-sufficiency.

Of course, production efficiency and other factors played a role, but still.

"Still, they don’t *literally* multiply like rats, right?"

"Rats… what was that?"

Amon frowned at my muttered words—probably unfamiliar with the phrase.

"Ah, well…"

Glancing around, I leaned in close to his beast ears and whispered an explanation.

"If a pair of rats has 12 offspring, that’s 14 total, right? Then, a month later, if the parents and offspring each have 12 more, that’s 98. If this keeps going—parents, children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren—every month, after a year, you’d have 2,768,257,402 rats. It’s an expression for exponential growth."

Amon’s ears twitched. "I see…" he nodded.

"I doubt it’s *that* extreme. But, Rid…"

He stiffened slightly, shaking his head before leaning in with a serious expression.

"That phrase might be taken as an insult if used carelessly around the ratfolk. Best not to use it."

"Ah, yeah. I realized that right after saying it."

I scratched my cheek with a wry smile.

Comparing beastfolk to animals or monsters was generally considered insulting—unless among close friends, of course.

"Multiplying like rats" was definitely a careless remark.

Maybe I let my guard down after the negotiations. I’ll have to be more careful.

In any case, if the food shortage is resolved and the ratfolk population grows, trade volume will increase accordingly.

Despite their small stature, the ratfolk I spoke to seemed sharp-witted.

Luva and the aristocrats picked up the Typing Device quickly, too. In the future, they might become invaluable as both trade partners and skilled personnel.

Baldia’s rapid development has led to an explosion in paperwork—even Father and Head Butler Galun have muttered, *"We really need to secure and train competent clerical staff soon…"*

While hiring locals is the priority, Baldia’s growth also means our own citizens are increasingly busy.

Securing talented personnel is becoming a real headache for Baldia.

"Are you enjoying the banquet?"

A dignified voice turned my attention to Luva, standing with a glass in hand.

Her cheeks were slightly flushed—likely from drinking.

"Yes, very much so. I’ve had the chance to greet many of your aristocrats and speak with several young ladies and lords."

I smiled warmly, and she drained her glass of clear liquid in one go.

Probably alcohol.

"Still, this *sake*—produced in Baldia, was it?—is quite strong and delicious. I can see why Sekmetos and Gyobu are so fond of it."

"I’m glad you like it."

Narrowing my eyes, I glanced around before leaning closer to her ear.

"You’d find out eventually, so I’ll tell you now—the rice paddies in the bovine and ursine territories are progressing smoothly. Sake is made from rice. In the near future, you may see Zuberan-produced sake."

"...Is that so? I look forward to it."

Luva’s eyes crinkled with delight before shifting to where Chris and Emma were networking with the aristocrats.

"You really are a curious one, Lord Rid."

"How so?"

"Most humans—nobles and merchants alike—don’t employ other races like elves or beastfolk. They might *use* them, but that’s it. Humans believe no race surpasses their own. Of course, the same could be said of other tribes."

She shrugged, her gaze sharpening as she studied me.

Her eyes seemed unusually focused.

"But you? You don’t hold such views at all. Not only that—you disregard gender and status, valuing only ability and character. That’s why you’re called unorthodox, I suppose. But the more I compare you to common sense and convention, the less you make sense."

"Ahaha, I’m flattered. But it’s just the result of my parents’ upbringing."

I scratched my cheek evasively, but she pressed forward, expression unchanging.

"Upbringing, hmm? Yet Baldia only recently began employing other races. If it were your parents’ influence, we’d have heard of it happening much earlier. But no such stories exist. Meaning, the change came from *you*. That’s my conclusion."

"Uh… What are you getting at?"

"I may not be physically strong, but I’ve trained myself to read people—their expressions, gestures, words. A short conversation is enough to grasp their ‘color.’"

A bad premonition made my pulse quicken.

I kept my composure, but my hands and back were drenched in sweat.

Luva stared intently before slowly murmuring, "Lord Rid… Could it be…?"

Then, leaning in, she whispered directly into my ear:

"Are you… from somewhere else? A *different world* than ours? Or perhaps… reincarnated?"

*Thud.* My heart pounded violently in response.

The shock sent a wave of heat surging through my body.