I Got a Gallery in the Wild - Chapter 51

Shoes hold tremendous importance as they represent a major pillar of ’clothing’ in basic human needs.

Especially because humans are bipedal animals, footwear is an absolute essential.

Walking barefoot means getting pricked by sharp objects or slipping awkwardly.

Since one could end up in perilous situations, its significance cannot be overstated.

Therefore, early shoes had to be durable and safe above all else.

Otherwise, there was no reason to wear them.

Given that they support bipedal movement and endure the harshest abuse, the requirements to fulfill their role were strict.

Bought soccer cleats heh

(Photo of soccer cleats with 2 stripes drawn)

Saved up my allowance and bought soccer cleats heh How are they?

└ That’s a fake though? Why are there only 2 stripes?

└ Right. There should be 3 stripes.

└ Ah. Fuck just noticed. Why are there 2 stripes?

└ Lmao0000

└ Proudly showing off fake knockoffs lmao

└ How much did you buy them for?

└ 300,000 Eura;;;

└ Oof lol

However, as time passed and technology advanced, footwear also came to function as a fashion item.

Not only were there cases of abandoning performance for design, but people also began wearing shoes created for performance purely for style.

The emergence of sports was the catalyst.

Since the general public valued convenience over raw performance, they didn’t care much about the technical specs of athletic shoes.

At most, maybe slip-resistance?

Driven by public demand, the sports-centered apparel industry flourished as well.

Do Beastfolk wear shoes?

Do they walk barefoot by any chance?

└ Suspiciously...: We wear shoes too. Do you think Beastfolk are savages or something;;

└ Aren’t you savages?

└ Suspiciously...: You must be the savage, seeing how rude you are. Want your head smashed?

└ Sry;;;

└ Lmao

└ Lmao

└ Beastfolk wear shoes too. It’s not like they don’t have houses.

└ Then how do they size shoes? Looking at their feet, the sizes vary like crazy

└ 100% custom-made. Look at rabbit Beastfolk. Their foot length alone is damn long

In particular, the presence of Beastfolk significantly impacted the development of footwear.

There were combat boots worn by soldiers, and safety boots for adventurers braving rough terrains across the world.

Footwear branched into endless categories depending on who wore them and for what occupation.

"So you’re telling me to craft this?"

"If you don’t wanna, don’t."

"Whoa. Look at this Dwarf. Who said I didn’t want to?"

A short stature. In contrast, two muscular arms. Broad shoulders. And a thick brown beard, his trademark.

The brown-bearded Dwarf grabbed the shoulder of the Dwarf who was turning away.

Having his shoulder grabbed, the other Dwarf turned around once more.

Slightly tipsy eyes and a nose red as a strawberry.

He was a Dwarf anyone could tell was a drunkard.

His reddish beard matched his flush, alcohol-warmed face.

This Dwarf’s name was Gareth.

A drunkard Dwarf commonly seen in Mountain, the land of Dwarves.

"Have you lost your mind?"

"I’ve got my mind alright. But what’s in it for me if I craft this?"

Gareth’s friend, Wagner, posed a perfectly reasonable question.

They had shared joys and sorrows together for many years, usually fulfilling almost any request.

However, the item Gareth requested from Wagner raised doubts even before acceptance.

"Showing up out of nowhere asking for high-performance shoes is fine. But looking at this, it’s obviously shoes for a human, isn’t it?"

Wagner asked while fluttering the piece of paper in his hand.

It was the paper Gareth had handed over, claiming it contained the specs for this commission.

At this, Gareth glanced at the paper and nodded.

"That’s right."

"Where on earth did you get a commission like this?"

"From the Gallery."

"That damned Gallery."

At Gareth’s reply, Wagner scowled.

Wagner knew about the Gallery too, but had never logged in once in his life.

Because he felt no reason to. People busy living real life had no time to access the Gallery.

Entertainment was not an issue either—for a Dwarf, invention was entertainment itself.

In that sense, Gareth was more than enough to be called an oddball: a Dwarf obsessed with the Gallery instead of inventing.Enjoying the story? Read on at nоvelping.com.

Even so, he had innate talent, so making a living was never a problem.

"What in the world did they promise to give you for taking this commission?"

"Ah. It’s a bit awkward to say."

"What’s so awkward?"

"It’s related to booze. Hic."

"Booze?"

Related to booze. At those words, Wagner’s eyes went wide with interest.

Dwarves and booze. An inseparable relationship.

Beyond personal taste, it was described as a racial trait; every household was famous for equipping booze-dedicated refrigerators or even breweries.

To take it a step further, they went as far as inventing locomotives and airships solely for smooth distribution, which said it all.

Mountain, the realm of Dwarves, was a place where mechanical civilization evolved entirely around booze.

"Yeah. Booze. You know that steeped liquor I gave you last time, right?"

"Of course I know! That bright red stuff. It was fucking delicious. Slurp."

When Gareth brought up the steeped liquor, Wagner unconsciously swallowed his saliva.

He still remembered it vividly. The time Gareth got his hands on a red herb from somewhere, steeped liquor with it, and brought it over.

Normally, drinking alcohol brings on intoxication and drowsiness, but that steeped liquor was the exact opposite.

The moment he drank it, power surged through his entire body, and his mind felt crystal clear.

And how magnificent was the taste! The bittersweet taste of the herb harmonized with the alcohol, making it immensely smooth.

Just imagining it made saliva pool in his mouth—he could declare it was absolute perfection.

"Turns out that human needs shoes this time? He’s stranded in a dangerous place as it is, so he needs high-performance shoes."

"Did he say he’d give booze if we craft it?"

"Not booze, he said he’d give the herb. If you want, I’ll give it to you."

"Ohhh! I’ll craft it right away!"

Dwarves who viewed a Mature Mandrake merely as a steeping ingredient for booze.

If Grylls had heard this conversation, he would have been appalled, but brushed it off as long as the item turned out well.

But if others saw this scene? They would have foamed at the mouth, screaming how dare they treat a Mature Mandrake as mere booze-steeping material.

However, the most important thing in a Dwarf’s life was booze. Even if it looked humble to others, that was their happiness.

"By the way, what’s the name of that herb? It was bright red and looked medicinal."

"They call it a Mature Mandrake, but I don’t really know. Just consider it a Mandrake."

"Hmm. Mandrake steeped liquor is tasty too, but I guess this is even better?"

"Probably? Heard you can craft one supreme-grade Elixir with just one of those."

"Really? Then isn’t that insanely expensive?"

Wagner harbored doubts. Elixirs were incredibly expensive items.

To Dwarves, booze was their Elixir, but an Elixir was still an Elixir.

Although he wasn’t particularly interested so it didn’t fully hit home, doubts were inevitable.

"Hic! Super expensive. But think about it."

"About what?"

"It’s steeped liquor made from supreme-grade Elixir ingredients. Can you resist this? Drinking this is far more valuable than selling it to drink average beer."

"Oh. I was short-sighted. You really are a genius."

"Don’t mention it. Hic!"

One might say the two were drumming and dancing to their own beat, but that was just how Dwarves were.

A race that loved alcohol so much it was practically one with their bodies.

A race whose life expectancy was higher than humans, yet possessed a similar average lifespan due to liver disease.

A race where finding a non-drinker specimen was utterly impossible.

That was the Dwarves.

Ordering them to quit drinking was identical to a death sentence.

"By the way... this is tougher than I thought?"

Wagner contemplated while looking at the paper Gareth had given him.

Gareth seemed to agree on that point as he nodded.

"That’s why I came to you. I know iron, but I suck at leather crafting."

"That’s true... But shoes built on durability with waterproofing added? Anti-slip too—he basically slapped every performance feature imaginable onto this, didn’t he?"

Just because they were Dwarves didn’t mean they were all-rounders in every field. Each had their own specialty.

In Gareth’s case, it was metallurgy; for Wagner, leather crafting.

"We’ll have to start with high-grade materials. You said it was a stranded human?"

"Yeah."

"Then durability must be top-notch too. If we do it like this..."

Wagner began drawing a rough blueprint using a pen.

Being a master Dwarf leather craftsman, even his rough sketch felt sophisticated.

"This will inevitably make them heavy. Tell him he’ll have to accommodate that."

"Got it. He should understand that much."

"Where on earth did that stranded human drop to be giving away Mature Mandrakes?"

"He said he dropped into the Forest of the Four Seasons, but I don’t really know."

"Tsk tsk. Of all places."

Wagner had heard of the Forest of the Four Seasons as well.

A forest that was a literal maze, where once you enter, you can never escape.New chapters come out on nov​elping.com first.

Crafting shoes wouldn’t dramatically raise his survival rate.

However, raising the probability even a tiny bit would be enough.

"Got the estimate ready? Hic! So how long will it take?"

"Since I have all the proper materials, a week should..."

"Hey. Look at this."

Gareth cut Wagner off and headed somewhere.

Wagner questioned his actions, but soon widened his eyes at the object Gareth brought back.

"T-That is...!"

A uniquely shaped glass bottle akin to something seen in the Central Plains. Thin at the waist and wide at the top.

And inside it, a plant resembling a human face had its mouth agape.

To top it off, red liquid filled the entire container.

It was the steeped liquor Gareth had crafted using a Mature Mandrake.

"Hic! If you cut down the time, you can drink all of this."

"K-Khmm. Then three days..."

"Plus crab snacks tomorrow. He said he’d give me some."

At those words, Wagner assumed a serious expression and raised his index finger.

"One day."

What a Dwarf needed was not more money.

Booze crafted from rare ingredients. That was everything.

"Good. Then let’s drink this after finishing the work. If you half-ass it, consider the deal off, so keep that in mind."

"What do you take me for? Just wait a bit. I’ll craft a damn phenomenal pair of shoes."

"Yeah. I trust you."

Wagner entered the workshop briefly to craft the shoes.

Gareth did not return home. It was fine to stay behind as a supervisor and drinking buddy.

’Since it’s the Forest of the Four Seasons, there must be herbs even better than Mature Mandrake, right?’

He stared at the Mature Mandrake steeped liquor.

A liquor that made strength surge through one’s entire body with just a single glass.

Maybe they could find ingredients even better than this.

What if they turned those ingredients into booze? Just imagining it made saliva pool in his mouth.

’Even if it’s not booze, it doesn’t matter. Snacks are more than enough.’

The Mature Mandrake was great, but he was also looking forward to the snacks.

Yesterday he caught a huge fish, and today he caught crabs, didn’t he?

Mountain was a land locked by mountains, so there was no opportunity to border the sea.

Naturally, seafood prices were bound to be exorbitant, making obtaining them from the Gallery auction house the best option.

However, even that wasn’t great due to the characteristic murderous commission fees.

’Shall I see what he’s doing now?’

Recently he had grown fond of interacting with Grylls.

Hadn’t he been rewarded with a Mature Mandrake just for a piece of random goodwill?

Even without the Mature Mandrake, it was fun.

Honestly nowadays Demons make better booze. Agree?

"This bastard?"

However, he could never tolerate rage bait. Gareth immediately opened the post.

Upon entering the post, numerous users had already gathered and were fiercely debating back and forth.

In particular, many users were losing their minds, and one could guess that most of them were Dwarves.

Telling a Dwarf that he’s short or whatever was tolerable. It was a racial trait, so it couldn’t be helped.

However, anything related to booze—especially brewed alcohol—was intolerable.

It served as a trigger button of sorts. A topic that surfaced on the Gallery whenever people were bored.

└ Frankly speaking, the Demon Race does make it tastier. Magic for cold and frozen storage was made by Demons first too~

└ Passing Dwarf) The ones who applied that magic to machinery were Dwarves. Know your facts before talking.

└ Yeah~ even so, without Demons you wouldn’t even be able to make a refrigerator~

└ Dwarf booze is honestly just bitter. Demon booze is sweet and tasty lol

└ Don’t you guys lack even the joy of enjoying a cold beer while watching sports? Lmao

"You motherfuckers!"

Slam!

Unable to contain his fury, Gareth slammed his hand onto the table.

It was just another peaceful day in the Gallery.

"Why is this guy throwing a fit again?"

Grylls, having devoured three crabs in an instant alongside his animal friends.

He was exploring the Gallery while resting.

While browsing, he clicked into a thread with an unusually high comment count, only to find a petty flame war unfolding.

A debate about how booze made by Demons was tastier than booze made by Dwarves.

’Is this similar to saying Chinese kimchi is tastier than my mom’s homemade kimchi?’

If it was something like that, he could understand.