After leaving the Merchant Guild with my dignity still intact and my wallet half full, I continued my search.
Luckily, there was a public bulletin board near the town square.
Yes, a real one—not one where you had to pay first to read it. A few flyers were posted, one of them reading:
"Female workers needed for light, relaxed, daily-wage job! No experience required. Just a sweet smile and strong legs!"
Sounded pretty suspicious... but the pay was 3 silver per day.
In this world, that was enough for sleeping, eating, and maybe a little left over to laugh at life.
I stared at the flyer for a while, then sighed.
"If this is a trap too, I at least hope it's a funny one."
I made my way to the address listed: a large shop labeled.
"Healthy Smile Kingdom – Distributor of Natural Health Products."
What greeted me? A man in a neat robe and a voice as if he'd just finished a motivational seminar.
"Welcome! You're the 73rd applicant today, which means you're one of the lucky ones! We're expanding big time!" he said while shaking my hand with far too much enthusiasm.
He explained the job: "It's just light work, Miss. You just need to carry our product bags to various houses and greet them cheerfully. After that, let our product do the talking."
It sounded easy.
Too easy.
I nodded slowly. "So, what's the product?"
He opened a large bag on his desk.
What was inside? Small bottles of clear liquid labeled
"Magic Pure Water - Cures All Diseases."
...Water.
Clear.
In a bottle.
Labeled as magic.
I stared at him flatly. "This... is just regular water, right?"
He laughed.
"Oh, of course not! This water has been prayed over by eight wizards and one person with a dust allergy. Its benefits are incredible!"
He then pulled out a contract and pointed to the bottom.
"If you join, just pay a 2 silver deposit for the starter kit. It includes a shoulder bag and a 'Health Spreader' pin."
I squinted at the contract and found some small text at the very bottom:
"Any sales exceeding 10 bottles per day will be split according to percentage, but no guarantee of a return on initial investment."
In other words: if it doesn't sell, you lose.
And if it does? You still have to pay.
I slowly closed the contract, then looked at the man.
"Sorry, I'm not interested in selling water with a magic label."
He looked disappointed but kept smiling.
"Such a shame. You'd be perfect as a 'Healing Ambassador.'"
"More like a 'Scam Detector Ambassador,'" I muttered as I walked out.
After failing to become a seller of fake magic water and almost becoming a
"Fake Healing Ambassador," I was running out of options.
Money was running low, my morale was sinking, and I started to consider: "Should I ask a local shaman to send me back to the plane?"
But fate had other plans.
On a bulletin board near the central city office (yes, the government office, the sacred temple of national-level scams), there was a striking announcement:
"Official Job Vacancy - General Labor for Kingdom Project Development!
Food and lodging provided. Weekly salary.
No experience required! The only thing you need is strength and obedience!"
"No experience" and "food provided" sounded like music to my hungry ears.
I signed up without a second thought.
One day later...
I stood under the scorching sun, holding a shovel, surrounded by muddy soil, bricks, and the shouts of the foreman, who sounded more like a Gladiator Commentator.
"HURRY UP! IF THESE BRICKS AREN'T STACKED IN 300 DAYS, THERE'S NO RICE FOR YOU!"
Damn.
This wasn't ordinary construction work.
This was slave labor.
Hard labor.
Survivor-level.
"I signed up for general work, not some caveman military training!" I protested.
"General work, yes. Very general. Everything you do is work," the foreman proudly replied.
I looked around at the other workers.
Tired faces.
Empty eyes.
And they all seemed to have made peace with life.
One of them whispered:
"Hang in there, maybe next week we'll get bread that's still chewable."
I took a deep breath. "So... this is a kingdom project, huh?"
"Yeah," he said. "But actually, it's a project from the noble family looking for cheap labor."
Ah.
Of course.
The government.
Why did I expect any better?
And What's the Subtle Scam?
When I signed up for the job, it said, "weekly salary."
But there was a tiny note I only realized after working for 3 days:
The first salary would be paid after a 14-day probation period.
"...Probation?! So I'm working for free for two weeks?!"
The foreman just shrugged. "It's called the kingdom system."