How to Survive in the Roanoke Colony-Chapter 114: Conversion (1)

Paulo Ramirez, the spy ambitiously infiltrated into Virginia from Spanish Nueva España.

As a devout Catholic and a mercenary with loyalty to the Spanish Empire...

"W-what do you mean by His arm? What is it, w-what is it...?"

He had been locked up in his house, terrified, for months.

"...My goodness, for three months?"

"I suppose he suffered a lot of abuse during his time as a slave. Perhaps he has emotional scars."

"Poor thing... let's just leave some food and go."

What allowed him to survive was the constant gifts and charity extended by the Virginia government.

After a few months, he was finally able to regain his senses thanks to other liberated slaves who occasionally visited and talked to him.

Apparently, 'His arm' refers to a huge machine used for plowing fields.

'Why on earth did they call it that?'

He also heard that the only person who could drive it was the Indian Emperor of this place.

Anyway.

After finally coming out after almost three months, not long after...

"Ah, you've come out! Here are tools and materials. You can use these to build a house!"

"Build... a house? Whose?"

"Obviously the house that you, Paulo Ramirez, will live in!"

"..."

Thud! Thud! Thud!

Creak. Creak!

The entire area had become a construction site.

So after somehow following others and building a house...

'They're giving out land, and 50 hectares at that? And 50 hectares is... one, two, three... uh...?'

His loyalty to Spain began to waver.

His hands trembled uncontrollably.

Becoming a landowner had been his lifelong goal, and it seemed he would achieve that dream soon.

If he just stayed put.

Yet, there was only one reason he didn't betray Spain.

'No, I can't. If I stay here, I'll go to hell.'

His last pride as a Catholic.

At first, he attended a church at the urging of the settlers, but...

"Nemo descended to earth for us, and He is the model for humanity! Praise our Lord Jesus Christ who sent Him!"

"Ah, ahhh! Lord!"

"Ahhh! Nemo!"

"..."

Shockingly, they were worshipping some angel.

"So, who is this Nemo?"

"Ah... He is the eternal leader of this place..."

Moreover, this self-proclaimed, widely acknowledged angel is the Indian Emperor of this place!

'I, I need to get out of here...'

If he stays here any longer, he's bound for hell. He almost missed what was truly important because he was blinded by land.

Yes. What's truly important is the faith deep in our hearts! Pride as a Christian...

"Where are the others?"

"Oh, they all say they won't come back. But they won't report us..."

"..."

...Which apparently the other spies didn't have.

"You all! Do you want to go to hell? Don't you know you'll go to hell if you're bewitched by a heretical group?"

"..."

"..."

After barely managing to drag them out by their collars and matching numbers again, morale was at rock bottom, and there wasn't much they could do.

The authorities expected this colony's population to be around 5,000.

But the current population here exceeds 50,000.

Ten times.

Just recognizing that overwhelming number crushed his morale.

"Is that... what they call a tractor?"

"Yes. If you put fuel in it, it plows the field by itself."

"...And that?"

"They call it a cultivator, but no one knows why it rotates."

"..."

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Moreover, all sorts of bizarre machines and the strange atmosphere gnawed at his mental strength.

It felt like he had fallen into purgatory.

He had agreed to make contact with his home country about a year later, but honestly, he wondered if it was even possible to escape from this place.

Having been meticulously stripped of hope in every aspect, he was completely devastated before he knew it.

Then one day.

"H-hey! Is there anyone who knows how to play 'Football'?"

"Why are you asking suddenly?"

"Apparently they're holding some kind of tournament?"

Finally, an opportunity came.

That's it.

Paulo may not know much else, but he is skilled at using his body. That's how he survived in various remote areas as a seasoned mercenary.

They don't encourage physical activities for no reason. In 80% of cases, it's for military purposes.

So after somehow standing out there, he could somehow come face to face with the military aspects of this place.

That way, he could extract detailed information about how coastal batteries are managed, how many guns there are, and so on... or even better, if he could get even a small military authority here?

Wouldn't that be a great success?

So Paulo went to the football match.

Crack!

"R-red card!"

"Well done! It's advantageous to use a weapon once, get a red card, and neutralize an opponent player!"

"Y-you too are out!"

In his first match, he was hit in the head by a player from the team coached by Raleigh.

It seemed the Spanish spy's infiltration into Virginia was facing difficulties again.

==

...The introduction of sports was a huge failure.

People are very cunning. When we made a rule that using weapons results in a red card, someone brought a wooden hammer, smashed the head of the opposing team's ace, and got themselves ejected too.

It was like 21st-century professional sports, with fierce debates about who committed a foul and who should be ejected.

"You are Paulo? Are you alright?"

"Ugh, urkk! Kyaaaak! Kueuagagagak!"

"...What's wrong with him?"

"I don't know? It seems he's having his first conversation with Nemo."

"But I've never seen such an intense reaction before..."

Anyway, there was an incident where one of the injured people I visited for comfort went wild like a madman, but it was concluded without major issues.

Whew...

For now, it seems to have been handled appropriately.

Still, the settlements begin to show signs of vitality right away.

Settlements grouped in units of thousands of people are gradually enjoying football and other activities, and the sound of house building is everywhere.

There's no shortage of timber. After all, we're surrounded by primeval forests.

We are steadily making tractors to clear those primeval forests.

Despite building houses, building ships, using wood as fuel, and running tractors on fuel, the surrounding forests tenaciously maintained their place.

With swamps everywhere and forests everywhere, it felt like we were growing islands.

Our Chesapeake settlements were about 10 islands, each with thousands of people living on them.

Meanwhile, we're expanding those islands through constant drainage, logging, and clearing.

Anyway... internal problems are being sorted out decently.