That Day When Suzuki-kun Wasn't the Mob-B!

Suzuki was absolutely serious about establishing an unshakable foundation in this world. He knew the path he was carving was inherently dangerous, but it was absolutely necessary.

Before he left Blumund, he completed one crucial piece of infrastructure: he utilized his [Etymologist] skill to forge a localized, invisible warehouse bound to his company headquarters. It served the exact same conceptual function as his personal [Absolute Storage].

The greatest flaw of this medieval fantasy world was undeniably its lack of basic preservation technology. By possessing a warehouse that completely halted the flow of time and preserved organic matter perfectly, Suzuki intended to generate profit margins that would make local merchants weep.

In this era, global economics largely revolved around agriculture and livestock. The logistics of those sectors were a nightmare, plagued by humidity, rotting, and bacterial contamination. But not for him. His goods were kept in an isolated spatial vacuum. Time simply stopped. No matter how much inventory he hoarded, not a single apple would bruise and not a single drop of milk would sour.

Taking full advantage of this, Suzuki had aggressively bought out nearly all the available agricultural and livestock surpluses in the Blumund Kingdom before his departure. This massive stockpile was going to be his first major business venture in the Armed Nation of Dwargon.

Could he really make that much money just selling basic food?

Yes. An astronomical amount.

Suzuki wasn’t bluffing. It was entirely possible to dominate a market by selling raw agricultural goods, but the real profit lay in processing. By turning milk into premium cheese, yogurt, and butter before exporting, he could exponentially increase the value of his stock.

However, the primary reason he was so confident about making a killing in Dwargon was due to the Dwarven nation’s unique geographical constraints.

Dwargon was an immensely powerful nation, possessing military and technological might utterly unmatched in the West. The vast majority of its national revenue was generated from its peerless industrial output, dominating fields like textiles, medicine, advanced smithing, architecture, and international coinage.

Yet, despite being an independent superpower, Dwargon possessed a fatal flaw: it did not produce enough food to sustain its massive population. It relied almost entirely on food imports to survive.

This problem was exacerbated by the fact that the entire nation was built inside a colossal underground cavern complex in the Great Canaat Mountains. This mountain range was the largest on the Magic Continent, with peaks dwarfing Earth’s Mount Everest. It was also the ancestral home of countless Dragons, culminating in the legendary Dragon’s Den at the highest peak.

This location provided Dwargon with the greatest natural defense imaginable—the city was practically impregnable. But you couldn’t eat stone.

Because of this, Dwargon acquired almost all its imported food from the Kingdom of Falmuth. Falmuth exploited this dependency ruthlessly, largely because it was the only Western nation capable of maintaining relatively safe trade routes eastward.

Falmuth’s dominance was purely geographical. To the north was a violently turbulent ocean filled with colossal Sea Beasts, and to the south was the Great Jura Forest, an impenetrable wall of lethal monsters. Positioned perfectly in between, Falmuth constructed and maintained the only viable land routes to Dwargon.

They charged extortionate tolls and tariffs for merchants to use these roads. Furthermore, Falmuth merchants frequently bought Dwarven goods at wholesale prices and resold them to the rest of the West at astronomically inflated rates. At its peak, Falmuth was universally considered the richest nation in the West, raking in over five million Dwarven Gold Coins a year purely in road taxes.

But what if a highly efficient, third-party vendor suddenly entered the market to provide Dwargon with high-quality, perfectly preserved food?

In the original timeline, Rimuru and the Jura-Tempest Federation eventually filled this role, completely destroying Falmuth’s monopoly by building a superior, monster-guarded highway network straight through the forest.

Frankly, Suzuki didn’t intend to usurp the entire role of the Jura-Tempest Federation. He technically could have built a competing highway network. It would have been difficult for anyone else, but with the backing of Treyni and the Dryads, the monsters of the forest would have been forced to allow safe passage.

Yet, Suzuki decided against it for two reasons.

First, Treyni was currently too busy. With Veldora missing, there was a massive power vacuum in the Jura Forest, and the Dryads were scrambling to maintain order.

Second, abruptly shattering the Kingdom of Falmuth’s absolute monopoly would trigger a massive, catastrophic trade war. If Suzuki aggressively crashed the market, Falmuth would retaliate, and the tiny Kingdom of Blumund would bear the brunt of their fury.

Suzuki didn’t fear Falmuth, but making unnecessary enemies was inefficient. Furthermore, attempting to directly out-produce Falmuth in sheer agricultural volume was mathematically impossible.

The scale of the two nations was completely mismatched. Blumund boasted a humble population of roughly 1.5 million. The Kingdom of Falmuth had a staggering population exceeding 30 million!

If Blumund was the equivalent of modern-day Singapore or Hong Kong, Falmuth was the size of France or Germany. A tiny city-state simply couldn’t compete in an agricultural war of attrition.

But Suzuki didn’t want to wage a war. He just wanted a slice of the pie. Securing even 10% of the Dwarven food import market was enough to generate obscene, nation-building wealth. While Blumund’s internal production couldn’t compete with Falmuth’s, Suzuki could use his infinite storage to aggressively buy up surpluses from surrounding buffer states like the Kingdom of Ballachia, the Kingdom of Raja, and even the fringes of Ingrassia, consolidating it all in Blumund for export.

It started as a small idea, but Suzuki’s ultimate ambition was solidifying. He wanted to officially turn the Kingdom of Blumund into his personal corporate asset. He envisioned transforming the rural nation into the Tensura world’s equivalent of Singapore or Switzerland—a hyper-wealthy, neutral global financial hub connecting the Western Nations, the eventual Jura-Tempest Federation, and the Armed Nation of Dwargon.

To live a truly comfortable, untouchable life, Suzuki realized he didn’t need to be the strongest combatant in the world. He just needed to be ”Too Big To Fail.”

He wanted to weave his companies so deeply into the global economy that his disappearance would trigger a worldwide economic collapse. Even if he were physically weaker than a Demon Lord, no one would dare lay a finger on him, because killing him would mean the end of global supply chains.

Suzuki knew exactly what needed to be done. And the very first step on that path to global economic domination lay in the Armed Nation of Dwargon!

It definitely has absolutely nothing to do with the legendary Elven Hostess Clubs!

Yes! He was telling the absolute truth!

Suzuki stared ahead with a fierce, intensely determined expression as his reinforced mount galloped steadily toward the towering Canaat Mountains.

”I am coming, elves!”

...Wait, no. It was for business expansion!

Yet, completely unknown to the highly motivated Merchant, a certain bouncy, blue slime was also currently making his way toward the exact same Dwarven nation.

It was only a matter of time before these two remarkably blessed—yet incredibly different—Japanese transmigrators finally crossed paths.

Regardless of the impending clash, Suzuki’s grand journey had officially begun!