The biggest challenge in working on The Iron-Blooded Alchemist Volume 3 was setting up the plot.

“I think I can set up the Skarl as an indigenous tribe from the western regions.”

In the western part of the Silvania continent, there actually existed tribes similar to the Native Americans in the United States.

Of course, most of them were annexed into the Borus Empire, where I live, and are now part of the western territories of the Empire. However, some of them still maintain their traditions, staying in the far western reaches of the continent, beyond the Empire’s reach.

To be honest, annexation is just a polite term. In reality, just like the Native Americans, their land was forcibly taken, and they were incorporated into the Empire’s populace. As a result, there are still many conflicts between the indigenous people and the Imperial settlers in the western regions.

“The real issue is how to set up the character of King Brandon.”

He’s a major villain taken from the manga that inspired me, and he will play a crucial role in The Iron-Blooded Alchemist that I’m creating.

However, deciding on King Brandon’s status has been quite tricky.

No matter how fearless I may be, creating a fictional Emperor, then setting him up as a homunculus, and making him the villain? That would require having ten lives to spare.

So, I decided to tone it down a bit by making him the Grand General of the Empire. Even with that, I can still execute the vision I have in mind.

The rank of Legion Commander, the highest military position in the Empire, might draw protests from the actual Legion Commanders, and it still felt somewhat lacking.

So, although the Empire doesn’t have a Grand General position, I’ll create that title and bestow it upon King Brandon. It seems fitting.

A Grand General plotting to overthrow the Empire—it sounds plausible and is a satisfying setup.

Moreover, I needed to focus intently because Volume 3 would feature “that scene,” which is of utmost importance.

No matter how I adjusted the settings, some scenes couldn’t be omitted. This particular one was central to the story.

Oh, and speaking of “that scene,” I recently found the perfect model to reference.

“Poppy, come here.”

At my words, the large dog growled, expressing its displeasure.

Or should I even call it a dog?

“Not Poppy! It’s Lashu!”

Ada shouted while hugging the dog, who she had climbed onto.

Despite my objections, my father had Alain fetch this dog at Ada’s request.

Apparently, they had a hard time finding the largest one available, but they eventually located a hunter in the territory who had a puppy that had lost its mother, and they paid to acquire it.

“What breed is that exactly?”

The dog that entered our household was enormous.

Though it still had the appearance of a young puppy, its size was already comparable to that of a large dog, which was quite surprising.

Ada was delighted, comparing its size to Patrasche from The Dog of Flanders.

Once again, I was reminded that this world and Earth are completely different.

Here, dogs are not primarily raised as pets but out of necessity, so there’s little research on breeds or characteristics, making it difficult to identify them.

Despite being a puppy, Poppy easily carried Ada around.

“Poppy is the perfect model.”

I started sketching Poppy’s features intently.

Since it was still a puppy, its round face had a certain cuteness to it, yet its large size made it an ideal model for the dog character I was about to draw.

I planned to introduce “that scene” early in Volume 3, followed by the appearance of the Skarl.

As the story unfolds, the true identities of the enemies will gradually be revealed.

The journey of the brothers toward the Philosopher’s Stone will then truly begin, culminating in the revelation that King Brandon, the Empire’s Grand General, is actually a homunculus.

I could already hear the readers’ excited screams.

This is the Fire X Stir-fried Noodles of this world.

In a world where the best noodles taste like simple banquet noodles, I’m about to introduce the intense flavor of Fire X Stir-fried Noodles.

“Lashu! Let’s go deliver the milk!”

Ada shouted, clinging to Poppy’s neck as she rode on top of him.

Poppy’s expression seemed to say, “Again?”

No wonder, considering they had already gone on two milk delivery “walks” today—once in the morning and once after lunch.

But Ada, showing no signs of fatigue, urged Poppy to pull her custom-made cart once more.

Poppy looked at me with sad eyes, pleading for rescue as if being led to the slaughterhouse.

But...

“Sorry, Poppy. Ada’s energy is beyond my capacity to handle now.”

Only a beast can match a child’s stamina.

Good luck, Poppy!

“It seems opening the merchandise stores simultaneously in both the capital and Somerset territory would be the best course of action.”

Esteban reviewed my plan and pointed out areas for improvement.

As the popularity of our works continued to grow, so did the sales of merchandise. I suggested we open merchandise stores.

In the past, with fewer works and limited understanding of merchandise among the people, we had to proceed cautiously.

But now, we were at a point where it seemed feasible.

“Indeed, the craftsmanship of dwarves, as we’ve always heard, is truly a divine gift.”

The merchandise we had produced so far wasn’t poorly made, but there were many things we couldn’t create due to technological limitations.

Krunn, who recently joined us, resolved those issues.

For example, the figures we plan to release.

Until now, the only kind of dolls we had were stuffed toys made by sewing cotton into leather.

But when I roughly explained figures to Krunn, he immediately performed a miracle by producing a prototype.

“I connected the joints with circular fastenings instead of interlocking parts, so they rotate smoothly. This will also improve durability.”

He quickly created a modern-looking figure frame.

After I painted it, one figure was completed.

Then, the master tailors made clothing to fit the figure’s size, and an incredibly well-made figure was born. We decided to sell this as our new merchandise.

However, one problem arose: we had no suitable place to sell them.

Currently, we were using the Yuren Trading Company’s branches to sell our merchandise.

But both the guild master and I agreed that we needed a dedicated store that specialized in selling merchandise.

With the increasing variety of merchandise, displaying them all became difficult. More importantly, handling customers who came to buy merchandise began interfering with the trading company’s primary business.

“I didn’t expect this level of popularity, so it’s largely my fault.”

Guild master Esteban said with a self-deprecating laugh.

He had seen the potential in merchandise and joined me in the venture.

But even he had initially thought the trading company’s branches could handle it, and now it had grown to the point of being burdensome.

Considering that this world lacked any culture like manga or subculture merchandise, I thought it was impressive that he had even recognized the potential of merchandise.

“Still, it’s a shame. If we only had the store in Somerset, it would definitely stand out more.”

“Somerset’s Goldpool Valley is too remote in the southern outskirts. The population flow is too low.”

That was true. Even if we offered attractive products at a Somerset merchandise store, it wouldn’t be enough to draw in people on its own.

So, reluctantly, we decided to open the main store in the capital and a smaller branch in Somerset.

“If only we could build a landmark like Universal Studios X or Disney X Land, it could attract people even in a remote area.”

But there was still hope.

If I think about Tokyo Disney X Land, which is actually located in Chiba, a rural area outside Tokyo.

The conclusion is that recognition is more important than accessibility.

I may not have enough works yet to build such a theme park.

But someday, when I have more works, more recognition, and more fans, there will come a time when it won’t be a problem to establish the main store here in Somerset.

“Because I like it here.”

It might sound sudden, but in just a few months, I’ve become attached to living here.

The people of the Somerset family, who once felt unfamiliar, now all seem like family.

Especially when I travel around the territory and see the smiling faces of the people who welcome our family.

The workshop staff who follow my lead, even when I’m particularly demanding.

And the loyal retainers who stood by us, supporting the family during tough times.

Thinking about them, I wanted to do something for them, too.

If I only cared about living comfortably or about our family’s prosperity, the current situation would have been more than sufficient.

We’ve already surpassed the territory’s revenue through book and merchandise sales alone.

Even if we lived in luxury, we’d have no problems for the rest of our lives.

But the things I’ve accomplished aren’t solely due to my own efforts.

Thanks to the great legacy left by the fairy tale authors and the countless mangas that inspired me, I’ve had this good fortune.

The best thing I can do is create works that make this world a slightly better place.

There’s a lot I’ve learned and realized since coming here.

I now understand why fairy tale authors of the past—like Andersen—wrote such stories.

Whenever I think of The Little Match Girl, one of his most famous works, the tragic story always stirs my emotions.

Why did he write such stories?

Considering the conditions children faced during his time, it makes me wonder what Andersen was trying to convey through these tragic tales.

I suddenly recalled a story the guild master had told me.

After the publication of The Dog of Flanders, there was a strange tale that the sales of street vendors’ goods had significantly increased.

Whether it was true or not, I couldn’t verify.

But that story made me resolve one thing.

No matter what kind of work I create in the future, I want to make works that have a positive impact on the world.