Edward Linden woke up pretty groggy, and his right shoulder hurt. It felt quite nostalgic, actually. It was nothing compared to what he felt almost every day back when he was an adult, but it still reminded him of home.

In short, it sucked. He would probably dream of his old job and studies for the next week, and in his new situation, he would rather not. Reminiscing his old life would maybe be fun in a decade, but now it was disturbing, and distracting.

Some people would perhaps desperately start trying to return to their own reality, but not him.

Linden could probably return to that cave he woke up in, anytime he wanted, unless he got struck down by maelodor, (the kind that messed with your sense of direction.)

The reason for that, was that he could remember what he was doing when he was getting away from that place. But that wasn’t true in regards to arriving in this new world.

And Edward had enough scientific knowledge to know that traveling dimensions, planets, or wherever he was yeeted, was well outside his area of expertise, and he had no idea what happened.

When you have no control over something, ignore it if you can, roll with it if you must. It’s how he lived his life healthily, and without depression.

………………………

Linden got up. Mr. Dalton and his crew were still in a bit of an unusable state, and looked like a bunch of old dudes who partied too hard and found themselves on an illegal garbage dump.

That couldn’t be said about two explorers. They were already up and working, and when they saw Ed standing up, they walked over to him without sudden movements, and hugged him. “It’ll be fine” He heard.

Weird, but it’s been a while since he got a hug and a word of encouragement. When was the last time? Elementary school? Maybe earlier.

No reason not to hug back. Or tear up a little. Hugs are nice.

(Some could say that’s not very manly, but they would obviously be wrong. If Edward Linden did something, it automatically became the manliest thing anyone could do, or so he believed.)

Linden thought their sudden emotional display a bit weird, but thought that it may be some kind of hunting related tradition.

Unknown to him, while he was unconscious, brothers already made up a story that explained his unusual prowess in enduring maelodor, marksmanship, and seemingly endless endurance.

It was full of speculations, wild conjectures, and generally a figment of imagination.

A heart wrenching tale about a boy who was forced into hard labor in a mine situated in a far off land, who was forced to enlist into some kind of armed force to escape certain demise, and after seeing his companions perish one by one, deserted in search of a better future.

Once they were all done hugging, Mark decided to voice some of his thoughts.

“Let’s continue onwards to Promise, and get you registered. You can stay at our home until you find yourself a place.”

So did Mel.

“Wow, you are a pretty good shot. Did you really did all that without inhibitors?”

That called for some question asking.

“Inhibitors?”

“You know, those things we were eating to lessen the burden.”

Ah. “Well, yes, I didn’t have any.”

“Hey, Mark, isn’t that kind of amazing? Even you couldn’t resist this well.” The green key asked his brother.

“Yes, it is.” Came the tired answer. “Now help me field dress those things.”

During gutting, Linden first noticed differences between Murisee, and this ‘Humalainen’

First, the tail was more fluffy than muscular, kind of like a foxes rear side. Second was the fact that the Humalainen were wide, and they were pretty short. They would look like less ferocious wolverines, if not for long, floppy ears located on the rear end of their skull, longer, puffier tail and duller, shorter claws.

He was also informed to be careful not to damage scent glands while cutting around the rectum. Apparently, they could be easily made into a hangover medicine, and were an ingredient for maelodor inhibitors, so guild payed for them quite well.

Fortunately, they didn’t get damaged from bullets. Linden was curious how he managed to nail down three of those things with two shots, but it immediately became obvious once he looked at corpses. Blunderbusses carried by those coachmen were loaded with a stout dose of buckshot, and it’s spread turned out to be enough to hit two animals at the same time.

In other words, it was just a happy little accident, but it did serve to raise explorers’ opinions of him.

What did get damaged from bullets, were some organs that would normally get eaten.

It was something beyond anyone’s control, but one of the little lead balls passed through a liver and hit the gallbladder of a single Humalainen.

Thankfully it didn’t fall apart too much, but the meat had to be rinsed with water, just in case, and the liver had to be tossed away.

Thankfully the animals were standing in a way that protected their guts from getting hit.

Cleaning carcasses of spilled shit is no one’s hobby.

Around the time field dressing and loading the game on wagons was done, the rest of people started regaining functionality.

The caravan set out for the rest of the journey quite fast, since everyone wanted to get it over with.

During the travel, coachmen and Mr. Dalton were informed of Lindens significant involvement in saving their sorry backsides. The merchant raised a brow, and seemed to come to some kind of conclusion.

They finally arrived at a place different from anything they’ve seen so far.

It was a humongous mountain. Not because it was merely tall, no. It had no visible peak, and it was so wide, that Linden was all but certain peoples mothers were being constantly compared to it.

Caravan climbed some of it, and entered one of its caves.

The tunnel they arrived in, was surprisingly bright. It was a first time Edward saw a light bulb in this new world. Cables were hanging from the ceiling, and wooden support beams suggested the tunnel to be artificially made, or at least widened for ease of transportation.

‘Huh. They have such archaic firearms and electricity at the same time. Assessing the advancement of their civilization might not be as simple as just comparing it to Earths’ history.’ Is what He thought.

“Huh. That is a lot of light bulbs.” Is what he said.

Ed didn’t have to wait long for an answer.

“Why, yes. Electrical appliances proved to be quite useful here, on the frontier. Their problem is supply. Which is exactly what we are solving here.” Said Mr. Dalton. “You might’ve noticed that we weren’t pushing for haste back when we heard the storm was coming, even if all those unpleasant experiences could’ve been avoided that way. It’s because we have quite a lot of glass and other relevant materials here.”

“Did you think of setting up a glass manufacturing facility around here yet? Or investing in an existing one?” Asked Linden. “It’s unlikely for demand to diminish, and even if it does, you’d just have to create it.” “I don’t know how many people actually need stuff you’ll be selling here, but that number will be rising with proper advertising.”

Mr. Dalton answered, and asked his own question. There begun a conversation about economy of small business, and a little exchange about avoiding unnecessary taxes.

………………………..

Dalton gave him a complicated look. The boy was definitely not just some homeless street urchin. He had gaps in practical knowledge, but was well versed in theory, and reeked of intelligence.

Dalton steered their conversation in various directions, something he often did while assessing potential employees and business partners.

Geography was something this kid had little to no idea about. The same with history, or current political situation. But he was quick to catch on, a good listener, and could fairly accurately guess how political affairs affected people and countries, once he heard about them.

It was a bit bizarre. To not know where mountains are, but be aware of tectonic plates theory was…

Who in the spinning whorehouse was in charge of this kids’ education?

His knowledge of trading was decent. He immediately guessed Daltons’ business plans in Town of Promise. The merchant wanted to invest into glass making. Local glass makers had enough skill and equipment to handle stuff like bottles an windows, but any optical instruments were out of the question, as were lightbulbs. Dalton would change that before anyone else could.

Yup, that kid was smart.

But where the boy truly shined, was science.

That kid could’ve easily gotten into any university in the world, as long as the entrance exam was only in mathematics, physics, or chemistry.

Dalton was not stupid. His goal was making connections at the frontier, and he would do just that. Starting with Linden.

Lesser merchant would think this idea ridiculous, but Dalton knew this kid would go far.

Helping Linden out right now would cost him almost nothing, but it could pay off tremendously in a decade or so, once that kid became influential. And He would.

Which is why, before getting into the town, Dalton made sure to thank that kid, and give him the same amount of money an explorer would get for an escort job.

He also gave him a blunderbuss, some powder, lead, and caps. “As a present” Those weapons were bought for a special price, and giving one away didn’t hurt His wallet too much, but it would be immensely helpful in the hands of a beginner explorer.

Dalton wasn’t much of a gambler, yet he would bet his ass, this here was the cheapest connection he would make here.

But certainly not the least valuable.