How to Survive in the Roanoke Colony-Chapter 199: Exchange (2)

For him, collecting these 'Othello' items was fun in itself.

He loved their mysterious sticky nature and their strange outer shell, lighter than stone yet sturdy.

Opechancanough neatly stored his collected Othellos at home. Until...

"Look, everyone! This cabinet costs only 0.2 Othello!"

"0.2 Othello? You mean I could get five of those with one chip?"

"Of course, Councilman Opechancanough! Why don't you buy one?"

"...Give me one for now."

"We'll deliver it to your home. First, let's get your fingerprint here!"

"..."

After browsing the shopping district once, he entrusted all the Othello he had to the exchange, as if in a trance.

The exchange receptionist was surprised to see a wealthy person depositing more than 10 Othello at once. Feeling even more proud, he straightened his shoulders and entered the shopping district.

"Here, this is worth 0.200 Othello!"

"0.2 Othello... add 0.3 to 0.67... uh..."

"What's wrong? Is your balance insufficient?"

...Somehow offended by those words, Opechancanough frowned and spoke. With all the Othello he had collected so far,

how could he possibly have spent it all here?

"Ah, no, it doesn't seem insufficient. Not at all insufficient. Take it as is."

And then.

"The calculations... don't match?"

"What? Check again! Let's see where it went wrong..."

"Here it is! The amount paid by someone named Opechancanough and the amount spent don't match!"

Naturally, from the perspective of the exchange receptionists who were happily settling accounts at the end of the day, it was alarming to suddenly find money missing.

It wasn't a calculation error either. They had been stuck on this for three hours already, and the result was the same every time they calculated.

The shop owners and clerks belonging to the 'Chesapeake Harbor Shopping Complex Management Committee' immediately convened a meeting, then visited Opechancanough's house.

"Sh-short? That can't be right? If you add 0.2 to 0.3... ah, it is short."

"You spent a total of 17.15 Othello. With 0.15 Othello remaining, you just need one more Othello chip."

"Wait a moment."

Opechancanough quickly checked his warehouse. Unfortunately, there were no furs left, and no Othello chips were rolling around in any corner.

"..."

"..."

In the end, Opechancanough could only sigh and say to the receptionist who had come looking for him:

"Y-you and I both understand the situation, don't we? I won't fail to repay it."

"...Hmm."

"Wait. I'll pay it back soon. I'll contact you when the problem is resolved."

After sending the receptionist back and sitting in his chair, pondering what to do...

Knock, knock.

"Mr. Opechancanough, please open the door!"

Someone else came looking for him.

When he opened the door, it was a different man. Before Opechancanough could ask anything, the man spoke:

"I've come to ask what you want to do with your harvested crops. You'll sell them to England, right? Please tell me what goods you want to import with that money..."

Ah.

That's it.

A brilliant idea occurred to Opechancanough. He grabbed the manager's hand and spoke.

When the man tried to pull away in confusion, Opechancanough gripped his hand even more firmly and pulled him closer.

"Why, why are you doing this? Is there something urgent...?"

"Is it possible for me to receive payment for my crops in something other than goods?"

"What? What do you mean?"

"You know, that..."

"..."

"Othello chips!"

"..."

"..."

"It will be, quite insufficient, though?"

"Then I'll catch furs and gift them to the community! Wouldn't that be enough?"

"Hmm."

"...Please."

"If you insist... I'll ask higher up. It might be possible."

Slam.

The door closed again.

And two months later, Opechancanough proudly went to the exchange and settled his debt.

"...Please don't make this mistake again."

"Of course not."

"Since you were late, we'll charge a bit more. Would an additional 0.01 Othello be acceptable?"

"Well, that much is fine."

They passed it off as if it were nothing significant.

Others occasionally found themselves in debt to the exchange due to calculation errors or forgetfulness.

In such cases, the exchange would accept only a small "late fee" and clear their debts. This was possible because everyone knew that they all had means to pay back.

No one found themselves in a particularly serious situation.

No one particularly regarded this situation as extraordinary.

It was just another day in the community passing by.

And during one of those ordinary days...

"Mom? What's happening... Oh."

One day, Eleanor Dare knocked on the door of her only daughter, Virginia Dare.

As soon as Virginia opened the door, she understood the situation from her mother's expression. She quickly changed from her nightwear to outdoor clothes and washed her hands thoroughly.

The two walked out in modest, inconspicuous attire. Neighbors in Croatoan Island started to greet them but fell silent upon noticing the somber atmosphere.

Eventually, the two reached a cabin.

It didn't take long since the residential area on Croatoan Island wasn't very large. This island had more area occupied by grapes than people.

The cabin, like other houses on Croatoan Island, had neatly whitewashed walls with a light and soft green roof. It looked small but cozy.

Creeeeak.

No knocking was necessary to enter this cabin.

Upon opening the door and entering, watercolors reflecting the homeowner's taste were placed throughout. Most were meticulous sketches of scenery from Croatoan Island and Chesapeake.

The owner of this house was a painter.

Creek. Creek.

Hearing the sound of a rocking chair in the distance, Eleanor and her daughter cautiously approached. There sat an old man, gasping for breath with difficulty.

"...Dad?"

"..."

John White appeared to be struggling to hold himself upright. He barely moved his pupils to look at his daughter and granddaughter, and lifted the corners of his mouth as a greeting.

"Aah... uuugh..."

"Don't strain yourself, just rest. We're just here to help with household chores today."

"..."

With that, John White fell back into a deep sleep, like a corpse.

While Eleanor dusted the house, Virginia held her grandfather's hand, focusing on whether his pulse changed.

Thump. Thump.

A very weak and thin rhythm could be felt from his wrist.

It seemed like a rhythm that could stop at any moment.

As Virginia grew up, Eleanor aged, and John grew old, He remained among them like an eternal boy, young and childlike.

This content is taken from fгeewebnovёl.com.

An apostle of Nemo was dying.