How to Survive in the Roanoke Colony

The most precious liquid in the world is blood.

It sustains life within life, moves life, and literally makes one living.

That fishy, sticky liquid symbolizes life itself. Shedding blood means exposing life to the outside, taking a step closer to death.

On the other hand, blood was often used as a sacrifice for great things because of its preciousness.

Among these, human blood was considered not just precious but sacred, treated like a jewel among stones.

In the Bible and the Quran, Abraham, the father of faith, was willing to offer his young son Isaac for God. That proved his devotion.

According to Christian belief, the most exalted being in the world also sent his son, who was both perfect God and perfect human, to shed his blood. All this to save humanity.

Blood was that precious and valuable.

But sometimes it's considered more worthless than dirty water.

Many people were trembling. The "priest" opened his mouth to calm them down.

Stay calm. Everyone, remember the Word. Their oppression cannot last long. But the lives of the righteous will continue forever, so if you engrave this in your hearts...

Bang.

A body collapsed with the gunshot.

The master stood on the priest's body, who was gasping from the gunshot wound, and said:

This is near Santa Lucia, so soldiers will arrive soon. If you stay still, you might live. If any of you move wrongly, it's treason.

Do you understand?

I've already reported your devil worship to the authorities.

Do you know any devil worshippers who impersonate "priests" or "bishops"?

A thrill of joy settled in the master's eyes. Along with it was the unique madness of those who had come all the way to remote places like Florida, desperately trying to fulfill their desires and dominate others.

The master spoke again.

You just need to tell the truth to the soldiers.

Then you can return under my protection.

You have nothing to fear.

The priest squirmed and opened his mouth. He seemed to want to say something.

He said that's a lie.

Bang.

With another bullet lodged in his head, the priest fell silent. Some people screamed, others cowered.

The gun-wielding master and his cousins whispered among themselves. Smiles played on their lips.

Should we have some fun before the authorities arrive? Who would complain if we killed a few slaves? Brother, let's not. If we provoke them too much... What could those things possibly do? Rather, they need an example to be like docile sheep...

They deliberately whispered loud enough for everyone to hear. They filled their base satisfaction by watching a child wet himself in fear, by seeing someone shudder at the terrible sensation of their eyes roaming over their body.

It seemed quite pleasing to them that there were people trembling at their feet, people begging for their lives.

Precious blood was flowing into the mud beneath the masters' feet. They stood there, trampling the most precious thing in the world.

They were stepping on someone's life blood.

The slaves, horrified by this sight, frantically knelt down and cried out. They had no choice but to speak submissively before the master who had just killed their "priest."

Devil worship? We were just trying to study the gospel among ourselves. I don't know. I don't know anyone except the priest who just collapsed. I don't know anything about priests or bishops. I just attended a prayer meeting...

Bang. Bang. Bang.

After several warning shots, screams, cowering, trembling, and fear dominated the space. Everyone curled up in terror at the sound of bullets being fired.

The master fired his gun wildly, as if intoxicated.

He seemed drunk on the fact that with each twitch of his finger, someone's life could be decided. He fired at the ceiling and walls a few times, then his hand slipped carelessly.

Bang.

Someone accidentally, insignificantly, was shot and collapsed.

As the scent of blood spread around again, the master realized.

Perhaps... it really wouldn't matter if he killed a few of these things right now.

A murderous intent flickered in his eyes. They were the eyes of a killer drunk on violence. No, they were the eyes of a child breaking toys. He didn't see the "things" in front of him as people.

Everyone thought about the approaching Spanish troops.

Considering that this place wasn't far from Santa Lucia and that Spanish soldiers were coming to deal with the slaves' "rebellion," resistance meant certain death.

They chose uncertain survival over certain death. They squeezed their eyes shut, hoping only that bullets wouldn't pierce their bodies.

And then...

Thud.

...Huh?

The master exhaled his final breath and collapsed.

With the back of his head split in half.

His cousins turned around in disbelief, and they saw a slave holding an axe that had been sharply ground, his body trembling.

It was the one they had sent out to chop wood earlier.

He was also the brother of that "priest."

His blood-covered hands.

At that moment, the cousins realized they had crossed a line. Far beyond it.

As they reloaded their guns and turned around, the slaves who had been acting like docile sheep until moments ago rushed at them like madmen.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Silence.

==

My knowledge of economics?

Don't you need to study mathematics for economics? Mathematics was what I hated most during my school days.

I can't even properly remember how to do calculus now.

It's been a long time since I completed my mandatory education. Since then, my math skills seem to have steadily regressed to before middle school level.

Economics for me? That's nonsense. I can't do such things.

"Large-scale factories... Yes, they're practically non-existent. There are a few sizeable whiskey distilleries, but..."

"Why should I work under someone else when I have my own land? Now that I can finally live freely."

But it seems like I have to.

Cold sweat streams down. Countless examples of developing country economic structures flood my mind without me realizing it.

Well, they don't have to be called developing countries. Isn't this structure seen anywhere with abundant resources and small populations, like Northern Europe or the Middle East?

But this is America.

This is America, far larger than Europe. America, where hundreds of thousands to millions of Europeans will flow in and settle down in the future. America, where tens to hundreds of thousands of natives still live.

Our community, which will absorb that land and population.

It cannot be compared to countries with small populations and abundant resources.

Sigh, what should I do?

Why is my community running this way?

...Well, I do know the reason.

Distributing land to all new settlers? That makes sense. That's how it was done in the original history too.

But there's one big difference between original history and us.

There was no Agricultural Knight Order in the original history.

So they just distributed undeveloped land and sent people out to pioneer on their own. Isn't that what the early American pioneer farmers were?

But we do everything from start to finish. Pioneering, sowing, harvesting, exporting—everything.

In other words... everyone in our community is practically a landed aristocrat. They wouldn't want to work under others.