A Slave Career Planner Can Be A Successful Profession

Lesson five.

It was a lutz in that condition, so I couldn't believe the upside of a proper interview.

The proper interview begins. No, the new master's slaver cut in.

"Lutz. Can you cook?

"Huh."

"... you don't think you can do it yourself, but you want to try cooking, do you feel?

"Oh, uh, I..."

Hmm, the boy who snorts alone, no, the young man, always had a pointless smile. I guess that smile is the armor I've been cultivating for years to negotiate, this young man Toshiki seemed somewhat used to negotiating.

I see, the young slave trader Toshiki is such a capable manly man not to resemble that age.

"You might have eaten with a few sudden questions. This is the kind of store we are. In listening to slaves' hopes, I plan to reconcile them with reality and propose a career plan for each of them."

"Shit, is that a career plan?

"Oh. Well, I'm not a wizard, so I can do anything. … If you're in a corner, tell me if you'd rather do something that's right for you than end up in chores as a slave to the head."

That wins both ways better, the guy named win-win, what a word it came out, and Lutz was surprised that he didn't get it well.

"I'm not good at cooking right now, but if you give me a chance, I want to grow my culinary prowess, and I want to be a cook.... If that's what you think, don't hesitate to say it"

Those eyes are not sharp without alarm. I can peek at sexual roots that seem rather carefree.

Yet I'm reading this mind with horrible accuracy.

It is enough to think that a man named Toshiki has some kind of mind reading technique.

"... no, I can't believe I'm cooking, no"

My voice trembled only for a moment. I can't, because I couldn't say the word. I didn't want to say I couldn't, but I thought I had to tell him I couldn't.

Did a man named Toshiki consider such a painful swing in the heart of Lutz, he gently called out, "Slowly is fine".

He's sweet. That's why I thought I'd tell him.

"I'm a demon," he said, his throat clogged in a strange way, but he kept talking. "When I cook, it's dirty, so I can't..."

"Dirty? Right"

But a man named Toshiki in front of him said, "No way."

"If you want something to eat, even if it's dirty, it's not a problem. Dirty to that, but if it's a problem, you just have to be less dirty. Complete boiling and disinfection and select ingredients."

"Huh..."

"The problem solving approach is wrong. Dirty means different things."

Lutz didn't know for a second what he was talking about.

"Look, I'll provide the ingredients. Also provide recipes. If it's cooking practice, I'll do it with you. Instead, you should be good enough to cook on my behalf. The least you can do is cook as much as I do, and what you want is to be able to cook far better than I do. What do you say, can you do it?

"Uh, well, uh"

I can't do it, the moment that word pounds on my mouth.

"Hey, I'm not a regular slave trader."

Toshiki spoke in a solitary manner so as not to speak to anyone.

"If it's true, Lutz has something to remember about manual labor, letters and calculations. First of all, if you can give up, it's not a dream or anything."

"Huh..."

"But I'm going to hear as much as I can about the hope of slavery."

……

"Of course there are limits. After all, I'm a slave trader, and you guys are slaves, so there's always more to prioritizing my interests than just hope, but still, I want to hear what slaves want and talk to you about it."

So a man named Toshiki smiled, fu.

"Even slaves have dreams."

"… why"

Question you can't help but ask.

To Lutz, however, the conduct of the youth in front of him just seemed "unreasonable". Because it just seemed like I had no choice but to hear what the slaves had to say.

"Well, that's all I'm saying, because I want to"

Toshiki shrugged her shoulders as if there was nothing to say about "self-satisfaction".

"I've always liked to see people do what they want and live. Maybe it's the kind of care you want to watch that drives you around."

It was a casual way of talking, but Rutz felt that this guy was really talking.

That's why I had words that really caught on.

Dreams.

How can you tell a slave or something about a dream?

"Why not?" Nature and words spilled. "Why are you trying to make a slave dream come true? Slaves have to give up their dreams. Slaves are obliged to be subordinates. There's something I need to do first before I want to. Isn't Mr. Toshiki's job to sell slaves?"

And the question was returned in the same words.

"Why not?"

"Huh..."

"Why do slaves have to give up their dreams? The first thing you have to do before you want to, that's right, slaves and nobody else. And if what you have to do is give up your dreams. But it's not. In general, it's not equals what you have to do and what you have to give up on your dreams. Let's do it."

"So, but..."

"And the details. To be precise, my job is not to sell slaves."

Looking straight ahead, Rutz felt like he had finally seen the essence of this man named Toshiki.

"My job is as a career consultant. It's my job to make dreams come true."

"So! I would like to cook the dishes with ease first. What do you say!"

High tension I was confused by the low tension of everyone around me. No, it was more confusing to me that everyone around me was more tense.

"I think it's good!

About one exception, Meena. I don't mind that you agree with me without one or two, but I'm worried I won't disagree too much.

"How much is the budget supposed to be? It's going to cost a lot of money for the road. Depending on the amount, I'd disagree."

On the other hand, these places are pretty solid, Hetty.

Amount, but estimates show that iron plates, knives, and ingredients add up to one piece of gold. It's 60 silver coins on an iron plate, 10 silver coins on a knife, and 30 silver coins on ingredients.

"... you plan to cook iron plates"

"Oh, that's better because it spreads the smell and people get together."

By the buckwheat in my head, people in the slums usually buy me that the smell sounds pretty good.

Even the slums don't have money. It's just that they're ready to die tomorrow. There's a verse, and they don't spare any savings. That's why alcohol and drugs are sold even in slums.

It's those momentary slums that make me tread that they also get their hands on cooking with the same feeling of getting their hands on drugs and booze.

"... I wonder if the slums will attack us."

"You want money? Or are you looking to cook? Either way, it's not."

Hetty's concerns are overwhelming. If, for example, I don't have anything in my hand right now and I suddenly open a store in a slum, there's a chance that a slum criminal will come up with a hand for wanting money or something.

But that's where we're already leading the way.

"Spear archery for what, sword archery gig. The slums must know how powerful our slaves are, and they can't fight back."

Unless you're in a prison party, how can someone with a total of thirty or so skills form a prison party?

"... I see. Maybe, but I was expecting this in advance."

Well, I was expecting half of it. When I told him so, he said, "Boulders are the Lord!" and Meena was already impressed. Isn't this guy too much?

"Um."

Here, Lutz, who has remained silent until now, raises his hand.

"What do you cook?

Excellent question. That is the biggest challenge.

"I haven't decided! Stir-fried meat for now!

"And for now... I'll make it, right?... Yep, er..."

"The boulder is the Lord! Flexible!"