How to Survive in the Roanoke Colony-Chapter 25: The Malicious Investor

"You must know that there's been a drought for several years, right?"

No. I didn't know.

I thought this area was naturally arid. Besides, our farm has clean, clear water flowing endlessly, so I never paid attention.

But I solemnly nodded as if I had known all along. The Oitotan chief lowered his posture even more and continued explaining.

"Farming was manageable enough. It wasn't so severe that if the corn harvest failed, the pea harvest would fail too. But it was enough of a drought for wild fruits and the animals that feed on them to disappear."

Native American society already had low agricultural productivity, so they hadn't fully transitioned to an agricultural society and still combined it with hunting and gathering. With such limited surplus production, a drought would have been much more devastating.

"Be-because of that, food became scarce. Although an unknown epidemic reduced the number of mouths to feed, it still wasn't enough."

Unknown... epidemic?

I think I know the cause.

I was about to turn toward Roger but stopped myself.

"I see. You must have suffered greatly."

"Huh, huhuhu...!"

What's this? Why is he crying?

"Yes. It was very difficult. All tribe members worked hard to secure enough food to last until this year, but from next year... it looks bleak. We'll have to forcibly reduce the number of mouths to feed or face disaster."

"Oh my."

"Moreover, we have additional dependents now... making it even harder to feed everyone."

He's talking about those 70 people.

What's this? Somehow it sounds like he's making excuses.

"That must have been difficult for you. But now we'll take those 70 compatriots with us, so you'll have one less burden."

"...huhuhuhu!"

...Wasn't that the answer he wanted? What's going on here?

"Anyway... we were starving, so we had no choice."

"What choice did you make...?"

"The Powhatan Confederation is several times stronger and wealthier than us. So..."

"...So?"

"We threatened them to either go to war with us or give us food."

"...???"

Wait... this doesn't make sense?

They're several times stronger? Then why pick a fight?

As I looked around in confusion, Roger caught my eye again. He nodded to me meaningfully.

...Oh, don't tell me.

"It was reckless of you to do that just because you had Englishmen and muskets."

"Ahuhuhu...!"

Hey, you crazy fool.

You're not the protagonist of some historical fantasy. Did you think something like "Future Japanese military falls into Joseon during the Imjin War!" had happened?

I mean, there were the Tlaxcaltecs who succeeded in a similar way, destroying the Aztecs and happily ruling alongside the white people. But they were partly just lucky.

Unfortunately, you're not them.

Honestly... I doubt you could defeat an army of thousands with just flintlock muskets from this era.

Was he just thinking like a toxic crypto investor? Like, "I have nothing to lose, so let me borrow against my last rent money and living expenses to gamble on crypto"?

"It, it could have worked...! To end up like this...! The spirits have abandoned me...!"

...Looking at how he still refuses to take responsibility, I guess I was right. And at a particularly malicious level at that.

Anyway, now I understand why he was crying in front of me.

"Well then, I hope you've learned your lesson. Goodbye. Your ancestors will protect you."

That doesn't mean I need to play along.

"Wait, wait, please wait!"

"...What is it?"

"Great chief, please help us! If we continue like this, our tribe will be finished in the war!"

"No."

I refused firmly.

Fighting the Spanish was because we were invaded, and even then, there were only about 200 of them.

But this is a completely different conflict that has nothing to do with us. And... thousands of warriors?

Absolutely not. This isn't a fight I can turn around with an excavator, mowing down dozens at a time like in a Dynasty Warriors game.

Even if it were a winnable fight, I wouldn't participate because of the casualties, let alone when victory is uncertain.

There's absolutely no reason for us to accept this proposal.

As I stood up, others gradually rose as well.

"Eleanor, let's leave this place quickly. It seems this place will soon become a battlefield."

"Yes, Nemo. As soon as we gather our compatriots here, we'll depart immediately!"

"Ple-please... all our tribe members will die..."

We'll die too if we participate.

"We, we've already told the Powhatan Confederation that we're allied with the people from across the sea! If we're destroyed, you'll be next, Great Chief!"

"Is that true, Roger?"

"...Yes."

"Hmm... let's still leave. After fighting these people, won't the Powhatans or whatever be weakened anyway?"

"I agree."

"No, no! If you leave like this!"

We walked around the village, looking for survivors from the Roanoke colony.

"Please don't go!"

They had lived here for quite some time, and since some had taken wives and had children, it took time to persuade them, but not enough to make them give up on their homeland.

"Please help us! Don't abandon the unfortunate ones—I heard that Jesus person said something like that too!"

But some people were surprised when I, not a European, appeared next to John White, and were even reluctant when told I was the leader of the settlement. Some firmly resisted, saying they would rather die than be separated from their new families. We left those people behind.

"Amen! Amen! Actually, I also revere Jesus! Roger will testify that I always peeked during worship!"

Thus, we were able to return to the Croatan settlement with 67 survivors, except for three or four who voluntarily chose to stay.

"Please, if you help us, I swear by the spirits and ancestors that I will offer everything..."

"...You swear by spirits when you claim to revere Jesus?"

"Uh... what? Is that not allowed?"

But Oitotan followed us.

...How did he even get on the ship?

Anyway, and then...

"Ahuhuhuhu!"

"..."

"..."

"..."

Three days.

For three days I tried my best to ignore him, but Oitotan continued wailing outside the settlement.

Still, his persistence is impressive. If this was an attempt at noise harassment, it failed. The first day, his nightly crying made it difficult to sleep, but now I've completely adapted and can sleep soundly.

That said, irritating things are still irritating, and problematic things are still problematic.

You'd think after starving and crying for three straight days he would leave, but people keep helping him out like feeding pigeons, so he's managed to hang on.

But now... a decision must be made.

I sighed and gave a signal to the people around me. White, Eleanor, and Manteo all nodded.

Roger Pratt, sensing something, cautiously spoke up.

"Couldn't we... help in some small way? If we give them guns and teach them how to shoot..."

"What would make us trust that person?"

"He's not someone who would turn the gun on us."

...Really?

Isn't this the type of guy who asks his family to cosign loans and then loses their investment? Isn't that turning the gun on his parents?

No, wait. This guy has already essentially leveraged his tribe members' lives. There's zero room for sympathy from the start.

...But an "angel" can't say that.

I replaced it with something that sounded good and profound.

"It's not that I don't trust people, I don't trust guns. Guns are tools for killing, after all."

"...Ah!"

"Of course...!"

Right. Seems like they got something from that.

Honestly, I don't even know what I just said.

Anyway, after shutting down the objection, the wailing sounds drift in again. Hmm...

I really couldn't stand it anymore, so I abruptly stood up and left the church/meeting hall. As others followed me out, we saw Oitotan crying with his face to the ground.

"...Listen. Don't you think this looks shameful? How can a great elder of a tribe be crying like a child here?"

"But, but, when our tribe is facing extinction, how can you say that so easily?"

That's because it's your fault, you idiot.

...I was about to say that, but feeling Eleanor's sparkling eyes on my back, I took a deep breath. I barely managed to swallow the curses that had risen to my throat.

Alright.

"Go back. What nerve do you have to ask us to fight and die for you when you're not even asking us to share food because you're hungry?"

"Th-that, Great Chief..."

"If you really want protection from me as the Great Chief! Come and settle in our territory that we've purchased from the surrounding tribes!"

At my shout, Oitotan stared at me with wide eyes.

"If you come to our territory, I'll give you seeds and land. Just... don't ask for ridiculous things like fighting for you. Understand?"

"Ah... that..."

"Drag him away."

At my command, nearby villagers grabbed Oitotan by the arms and dragged him away. Still dazed, Oitotan was soon dragged to the road.

"...White? Didn't you say we lacked manpower to cultivate wheat? Will this be enough now?"

"It, it should be enough. But what should we do about Chief Oitotan..."

"Take him to the port and lock him in the ship's cabin."

"Is that really okay?"

"He's a stowaway to begin with, isn't he? It doesn't matter. Later, if he comes to genuinely request protection, accept him."

Looking at the village, it seemed to have about 500 people, which should be enough for them to come on their own.

Good. I'm not going to worry about it anymore. I just ignored it and went home to play games.

So stressful.

Ah, that crazy teamfight-obsessed idiot. I hope he's finally learned his lesson.

Please live your life properly.

==

"Ch-Chief! Are you alright?"

"Chief! What did the people from across the sea tell you?"

"..."

"...Chief?"

About 400 years before League of Legends was developed.

The brain of Oitotan, ancestor of teamfight addicts, began to work furiously.

"...I learned a lesson."

"What do you mean?"

If you're going to bet your life, you must bet your soul on a sure possibility.

Even if you lose four dragons, even if the inhibitor is destroyed, if you can win just one decisive teamfight, you can turn everything around...!

"Have you heard rumors about the wealthiest Great Chief?"

"...Yes, I have heard something."

"I heard there is a mysterious person who rules over Pamlico Sound and this area. Though they don't show themselves at the great gatherings, they're said to share sweet grapes."

"I... have met that person!"

"What?"

"Then...!"

"The Great Chief spoke to me! They said if we want protection, we should enter their territory and live as obedient subjects!"

"...!"

"...!!"

"Let's go! To their territory! That's where we'll find our salvation!"

"Ooooh!"

And so, part of the Chesapeake tribe began a great migration under Chief Oitotan's leadership. Since it was still a massive number of about 600 people, the story couldn't help but spread to other tribes.

"Why are they moving?"

"They say it's by the Great Chief's command? If you want to live, come into their territory, they said."

"...?!?!"

Everyone began to stir at this bewildering news.

From those fearing the Powhatan Confederation's threats to those lacking food due to drought.

Soon the procession of 100 people became 200, then 300, and quickly surpassed 500.

Like dominos falling, the procession finally... reached the Chesapeake region.

"Go-Governor! The immigrants have arrived!"

"Oh... so Oitotan has finally come. So, how many came? We'll distribute potatoes and wheat to each person and teach them how to use farming tools..."

"It looks like about 1,000 people have come? They keep mentioning something about a Great Chief, what's that about?"

"...?!?!"

White finally began to realize something had gone wrong.

The first month, they taught Oitotan and his tribe members how to farm potatoes.

The next month, they distributed corn seeds to the rest of the people.

The month after that, they taught the newly arrived people how to help in others' fields.

...Strange.

I don't understand why there's no end to this. The only tribe that requested protection was... Oitotan's.

Trembling in confusion, White finally undertook a census the following month.

One... two... three...

...

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...The population exceeded 3,400.

How did this area become a giant plantation?

...Huh, what?

While the angel-acknowledged lord of Chesapeake Bay, White, was bewildered, several months flew by.

"A ship, a ship is coming! A ship is here!"

Finally, in September 1591.

"Oh, it's all farmland, the colony is a huge success!"

Sir Raleigh... arrived.

Along with hundreds of livestock.