Exiled Young Girl’s Territory Development Record: The Result of the Villainous Young Lady Who Was Exiled Before the Scenario Began and Did Whatever She Wanted for the People.

Patrick was fuming, but since it was already late, he returned to the inn soon after.

The next day, we set out early to find a workshop that would buy our furs. We asked around and were directed to a street lined with workshops specializing in fur processing. We promptly knocked on the door of one such workshop.

“Excuse me!”

After knocking, we opened the door to find several craftsmen focused on their work inside.

“Huh? Who’s that?”

“Sorry to intrude. We’d like to sell some furs…”

“Eh? We don’t do any buying here. The workshop three doors down handles that.”

“I see. Thank you. We’ll be on our way.”

We then headed to the workshop three doors down. It seemed to be a relatively large workshop and appeared to handle both the sale and processing of raw furs.

“Excuse me. We’d like to sell some furs.”

“Sure. What kind of furs do you have?”

“Wild Boar and Forest Deer.”

“Oh! Monster furs, huh? That’s good stuff! Let me see… huh? A child?”

The shopkeeper, noticing my presence behind Marie, looked wary and asked hesitantly.

“…Are you perhaps part of the Scarletford Baron’s entourage?”

“Yes, that’s right…”

“I’m sorry, but we can’t do business with the Scarletford family. We’re a member of the Commerce Guild, and we’re prohibited from trading with them.”

“What do you mean!?”

Marie asked with barely concealed anger, but the shopkeeper waved his hand dismissively, indicating for us to leave.

“I’m asking what you mean!”

“Like I said, the Guild has forbidden it. Unless you can guarantee that the Baron himself will cover any losses we might incur for ignoring the Guild’s directives?”

“That’s impossible!”

“Exactly. So, just accept it. Even with the Baron’s influence, this is Southberry’s territory.”

“…Are there any shops around here not affiliated with the Commerce Guild?”

“Not that I’ve heard of.”

“I see. Thank you.”

With that, we left the shop.

After visiting several more shops, we regrettably couldn’t find anyone willing to buy the furs. Along the way, we learned that it seemed the Tarclay Trading Company was working behind the scenes to sabotage our attempts at selling the furs.

That’s infuriating! They act as they please!

Although I was extremely frustrated, causing a scene would be unwise. My biological father, who clearly has no affection for me, might even have me executed.

Given that we were unable to sell the furs, we decided to head to a blacksmith that handled agricultural tools next.

There was a chance that they might overlook some things if we were purchasing something.

With that in mind, we arrived at the street lined with blacksmiths, only to encounter…

“Where are your wife and daughter!? Give them back!”

“Huh?”

“There’s something you need to do first!”

“You said you’d pay me back!”

“Hah! You can’t possibly repay that amount!”

A debt dispute, perhaps?

A group of four thug-like men and one young man, who appeared to be a craftsman, were engaged in a heated argument. The thugs were demanding repayment from the craftsman.

“And abducting his wife and daughter in the process!?”

What!? Abduction!? That’s something the guards should handle!

“Hah? The one at fault here is you for not repaying the money!”

“Besides, that debt is from Bolta—”

Thud!

As soon as Bolta’s name was mentioned, one of the thugs delivered a hard punch to the craftsman’s stomach, causing him to bent forward.

“Ugh… Pay it back…”

“So troublesome. Let’s just deal with him, shall we? He’s not going to be able to pay anyway.”

“Yeah. And the woman should be sold soon enough.”

How despicable!

The thugs then drew their swords—

“No!”

I immediately cast a spell to bind the thugs’ souls.

“Gah!?”

“What’s this!?”

“I can’t move!”

The thugs were bewildered, unable to move a single muscle.

“Hey! Murder and human trafficking are punishable by execution in this country!”

“Huh?”

“A kid?”

“What’s with this brat!”

“Patrick, help that man. Ignore these thugs.”

“Understood!”

Patrick rushed to the craftsman.

“Are you okay?”

“W-Who are you?”

“I’m Patrick from the Scarletford Baron’s militia. I’m here on My Lady’s orders to assist you.”

“B-Baron…”

The craftsman muttered weakly and then seemed to collapse, apparently having fainted.

“Patrick, take him with you. Let’s get him some help.”

“Got it!”

“Hey! Wait!”

The thugs called out, but we ignored them and took the craftsman away.