After half an hour of negotiations between Watanabe and Rabanowicz, which was the first time in his life that Watanabe had a chance at negotiating his wages, the negotiations came to a halt. After agreeing that Watanabe would receive equal lodgings and food with Rabanowicz, Watanabe realized that he had no idea how money worked in the new land that he found himself in.

Watanabe was used to the simple world of modern money and commerce. There was the yen which had no smaller denominations than one yen and all was alright with the world. There were standardized banknotes that facilitated easy exchange, which helped the world be more alright. Watanabe also had a basic idea of how much basic necessities cost in Japan and if need be, he could check the price of an item using the globally interconnected web.

Watanabe had set realistic expectations and didn’t expect anything fancy like banknotes or debit cards to exist in this medieval (?) fantasy setting. He, like any reasonable person, expected that there would be gold coins, for he had never read about a fantasy world without gold coins. He also expected that by now there would be a piece of narration stating something akin to “1 gold is roughly equal to 3 Zimbabwean dollars” so that the readers could have the pleasure of knowing how rich our hero was.

Before he could ask some questions so that he could determine the exact value of gold coins, or whatever shiny metals constituted money here, the army had already broken camp and resumed their march towards the capital. The soldiers marched in an admittedly short column, a company of 300 men didn’t lend itself to a spectacle of a march, with Hans, his batman and the standard-bearer of the company at the front. There was also a small guard made out of a dozen cavalrymen following Hans from behind along with Rabanowicz and her retinue consisting of one person (that one person being Watanabe, our gallant hero).

“Say, doctor, how much is this coin worth?” asked Watanabe as he took out one of the two copper coins he had rightfully acquisitioned from Sherifeld. He didn’t want to spend the time marching in vain, so he had decided to wring even more exposition from the supposed sponge of wisdom that was Rabanowicz.

“Well, I can’t espy a miniscule object like that.” said Rabanowicz as she moved her head forwards to get close to the coin, which was slightly smaller than the button on Watanabe’s suit. “There is a reason why I walk this earth as bespectacled as I am, monsieur.”

“Oh, I thought you wore it for fashion.” replied Watanabe. “Those really complete the ‘shut-on book worm’ look you are going for.”

“Monsieur, I’ll have you know that most of my work involves people, hence I am no shut-on, and while I do enjoy delving into a myriad of books, reading is not the reason I am beglassed. I have no need or desire to go for the look of a book-worm.” further replied Rabanowicz. “Also, I’d like to meet the crazed fool who can afford to wear spectacles as a statement of fashion. These spectacles alone could feed an entire family for an entire season.”

According to the U.S. Department of Agriculture, a family of four can be fed at a minimum of $146 a week. If a season, or a period of 3 months, is taken to have 12 weeks then the cost of bespectacling Rabanowicz is $1.752 or 439 Big Macs at McDonalds in 2022.

Huh, that didn’t help our readers outside of the US understand how much stuff is worth in this setting. Let’s hope that our hero helps us find a better figure to help us find a framework to understand the economic woes of the setting Watanabe has found himself in.

“Then doctor, if your glasses are so expensive, why isn’t the rest of your getup as impressive?” asked Watanabe as he observed the plain clothes of his new employer. “At least one day of not feeding a family could afford you a few frills here and there. Another day of not feeding you a family could afford you a wig that is not so greasy and lackluster.”

“By the Divine, you are looking with the eyes of a man that is looking in no way other than the way of the vain. I guess the book I showed you earlier was right about otherworlders being most vain.” replied Rabanowicz. “Observe for a second, what are we doing right now monsieur?”

“Walking and talking?” said Watanabe.

“To use a more apt term, we are travelling. Tell me, what use are frills while travelling? Furthermore, what use are frills to a scholar such as myself?” rhetorically asked Rabanowicz.

“They could be useful if they provide a bonus to intelligence?” replied Watanabe. “Frills look elegant, charming yet intellectual. They provide a buff to charisma and intelligence, right?”

“Charm, sure. Intelligence? I don’t think frills are usually tied to intelligence.” said Rabanowicz as she shrugged and noticed that Watanabe was still holding the small copper coin in his hand. “Could you hand that coin over to me for a brief moment?” she said while pointing at the general direction of Watanabe’s hand. Watanabe complied, and handed over the coin without thinking much about it.

Rabanowicz took the coin, and started rubbing her thumb over the surface of the coin without looking at it. “This is a coin worth one seed.” she said after a few seconds of intense coin-rubbing.

“And… How did you understand that if you don’t even take one look at it?” asked Watanabe.

“What one cannot see, one must feel.” replied Rabanowicz. “I have memorized the general feel of most coins issued in this realm, and it is possible to ‘read’ the numeral value inscribed in these coins by feeling the shape of the inscription.”

“That… is pretty impressive actually.” said Watanabe. “Your impressive coin-rubbing skills aside, may I ask how much this one ‘seed’ is worth?”

“Ten of these would make one leaf, ten leaves would make one cabbage, of currency not to be confused with actual cabbages, in this here realm of the Brassicans.” explained Rabanowicz. “I’d estimate that one seed would be equivalent to what a laborer would receive from a day of work. The rank-and-file soldiers of this company six seeds a day.” she added to try to help the otherworlder understand how money worked.

Yet, this had only confused Watanabe (and the author along with the readers) even more. The 2020 minimum hourly wage for workers in Japan was ¥902. According to Japanese Labor Law (which most employers ignore) one can work only 8 hours a day, making a day of labor equal ¥7.216 and one ‘seed’ equal that. A ‘cabbage’ is equal to ¥1.443.200 according to this equation. These numbers are all ignoring the fact that the economy of Japan and Lahanezy are completely different, that Rabanowicz might have these figures wrong and that most likely nobody reading this actually uses the yen making this equation completely useless for the readers.

Nor could Watanabe make use of this equation, for he hadn’t memorized what the minimum wage was at the time he departed from Japan. He didn’t know how much a private of the JSDF received in terms of wages either (which would let him convert currencies based on the wages of a Lahanezite soldier). He was stuck as clueless and helpless as the readers.

“Most importantly for you, a mug of the cheapest beer would cost half a seed.” further added Rabanowicz.

This too didn’t help at all. How much is a mug in liters? What brand does the beer that is produced here correlate to? I can’t even really remember the prices of beer clearly, thought Watanabe. Why can’t the author just send me something that’ll help me find a reference point?

Watanabe looked for any item that could help him set up an exchange rate of Lahanezite cabbages to Japanese yen.

Then, after a minute of further idle travel, Watanabe finally saw something that’d help him escape this predicament.

“How much did that cost?” said Watanabe as he pointed at a small bottle that Rabanowicz had begun idly fiddling with her thumbs.

“Oh, when did I take this out?” replied Rabanowicz as she stared blankly at the small bottle of ink she had unconsciously taken out of her bag. “This? It’s a cheap bottle of ink I got for one seed.”

Yes, that amount of small, cheap ink is something which I have seen before on Earth, victoriously thought Watanabe as he had a sudden flashback.

That day, yes that day had been busy for Watanabe.

That day the company he worked for had gone through massive financial trouble and had laid off about one tenth of its staff.

As the anxiety of losing one’s own job wafted throughout the office the employees who were left were now left to do the same work with ten percent less people.

It was hell on Earth, to be precise. A wave of phone calls, faxes (yes, his office still used those) and worried employees flowed throughout the maze of cubicles in a never-ending torrent of drudgery only slowed down by the binds of red tape.

Like many others in the office Watanabe too had to make sure that the red tape flowed freely. He was rushing to the nearest printer in hopes of acquiring important documents (which the manager wouldn’t accept digitally) for matters that were supposedly important.

Why the upper-ups needed those documents so badly wasn’t a thing that mattered to Watanabe, the only thing that mattered was that he handed whatever they were in time.

He thankfully found the printer was mostly free, except for a frustrated Takahashi who was muttering profanities (omitted from this text by yours truly) that would have gotten him fired if heard by the boss.

“Damn this hunk of junk! I hope whoever engineered this atrocious machine reincarnates as a fungus on a rotting durian!” muttered Takahashi as he furiously clicked various buttons on the machine in a futile attempt to get it to work.

“Uhh… Mr. Takahashi, is the printer broken again?” asked Watanabe as he greeted his senior.

“Yes! Every time I try to print, it makes a strange beeping noise, something pops up on the screen, and it refuses to print anything!” replied Takahashi as he slapped the printer out of frustration.

“Mr. Takahashi, sorry if I may be overstepping my boundaries as your junior here, but may I be so rude as to point out the fact that the beeping is due to a lack of black ink, and the message that is appearing on the screen is telling you of that fact?” said Watanabe, hiding his amusement.

“‘The printer is out of black ink please…’ Wait, you might be right. It does say so. Huh.” said Takahashi as he finally read the notification on the printer’s screen. “Maybe it should make it clear when the ink runs out!”

There is a whole beeping noise and a message on screen, what else can the poor printer do, thought Watanabe. “Let me just ask Satō to fill the ink as he always does.”

“Didn’t Satō just get fired?” replied Takahashi as he related what he had heard from the rumor mill “I heard he got fired today because they thought that he wasn’t doing enough work in the office.”

“That explains why there is no ink. Who is in charge of the ink then?” wondered Watanabe. “I guess it should be Suzuki, I have seen her fill the tank with ink when Satō was absent.”

“No, Suzuki got fired too.” replied Takahashi again as the rumor mill churned further “Apparently she wasn’t pulling enough hours in work.”

“Then who is left?” asked Watanabe.

“I think I know a person just for the job who is still in the company.” replied Takahashi.

“That is?”

Takahashi took out a 100-yen coin from his pocket and handed it to Watanabe. “That’d be you, Watanabe. There is a 100-yen store just across the street that should have some printer ink.”

Watanabe had no choice but to comply to the orders of one senior to him, and he quickly dashed to the variety store as fast as his little legs could carry him. Quickly acquiring the ink, he dashed back as quickly as he had dashed forward.

“Quest complete, got some ink Mr. Takahashi.” said Watanabe as he sprinted back towards the printer. “Now, how the hell do we get this ink inserted?”

“…Good question, Watanabe. Very good question.” replied Takahashi as he and Watanabe began checking every corner of the printer to find a place suitable for the purposes of ink-filling. Yet, no matter how many buttons Watanabe caressed gently or how much Takahashi slapped the printer, no place came out that’d let them make use of the bottle Watanabe had quested and acquired.

“Only if that Satō had been here…” murmured Takahashi who had begun losing hope of ever finding a Garden of Eden (a place to fill the ink) that’d lead him to salvation (printing important documents).

“Mr. Takahashi, do you think we can summon him if we make an offering or something?” quipped Watanabe. “Maybe his lost soul is still trapped in this here printer and we can call upon him to help.”

“Know what, it wouldn’t hurt to try.” replied Takahashi as he clasped his hands together in prayer. Watanabe too clasped his hands, as he was obliged to help a senior no matter how unreasonable their request was.

“O’ Satō whom rests entombed in this here Brother MFC-L2730DN printer, come forth from beyond the world of spirits and help your coworkers in the material realm in their time of greatest need!” chanted Takahashi and Watanabe jointly as their coworkers stared at them in confusion.

Suddenly, to the surprise of Watanabe, they heard a voice come from behind them. “Guys, did the ink run out or something?”

“Mr. Takahashi, I- I think I hear his voice!” said a very surprised Watanabe.

“Me too, Watanabe. It is as if he has never left us! O’ venerable Satō, please grant us with your hallowed ink!” begged Takahashi as he addressed the printer.

“Mr. Takahashi. I am not dead yet, nor have I gotten fired.” said the heavenly voice bellowing from behind the pair.

“Watanabe, I have heard rumors that some spirits can be a bit reluctant to accept their death. I we might need to break Satō the news.” said Takahashi in reply to the voice.

“Mr. Takahashi. I am behind you. Right now. If I am dead, I hope I have not sinned badly enough to be relegated to haunting the office printer!” replied the voice which seemed to have gotten closer to Takahashi.

“No, I clearly heard that Satō got fired, he shouldn’t be here! See-” said Takahashi as he turned around and bumped into Satō, who was not amused. “Oh, you are here. And I just bumped into you, so you are still alive. Though to be honest you don’t look alive right now.”

Indeed, Satō looked like he had actually gone through hell and back. His hair was uncombed, his suit was not buttoned up to company standards and he had forgotten to wear a tie.

“I thought I was definitely getting fired too, I heard constant rumors about how ‘That jerk Satō is definitely getting the boot!’ and whatnot. I couldn’t get to sleep until 4 AM and slept through my alarm well until 12 AM out of worry.” said Satō as he sighed deeply. “Turns out it’s one of the other four other Satōes in the office and not me that’s getting fired.”

“Satō is fired, long live Satō who replaces our printer ink!” said Takahashi. “Think you can help us out?”

“I guess, since I am still barely alive and working here.” replied Satō. “First off, Watanabe, that is the wrong brand of ink. That cheap, little ink refilling bottle is for the wrong brand and wrong type of printer. I got the proper cartridge right here, since I guessed that I might be needed just for this exact thing.”

Satō then proceeded to masterfully recartridge the printer like a maestro, with the printer and cartridge being his instrument. With those he played a masterpiece of printermongering that’d be remembered for all time, cautiously and delicately placing the cartridge into the machine.

The printer was ready to print like it had never printed before, would be what would be written about this affair afterwards if Satō’s work hadn’t been interrupted by the sudden arrival of the boss himself.

“Satō, was it?! I have heard that you were absent from work, and now you come here in this disgraceful getup and shame my entire company!” said the boss as he barged into the room. “I don’t care whether the law says I can or not, you are to get out of this building immediately! Consider yourself fired!” Saying this, the boss then left the room that was left as quiet as a morgue as Satō also quickly retreated from the premises without saying a word to Takahashi and Watanabe.

“What do we do now?” asked Takahashi.

“What we do is follow the road that Satō has left for us.” replied Watanabe. “He might not be with us anymore, but his legacy shall live on and on. Look, he has already showed us the way into the compartment where we have to put in the cartridge, all we have to do is now give one last push and complete his life’s work.”

Yes, Satō might not have been there, but hope still lived on.

Watanabe picked up the cartridge, and pushed it into the slot it was supposed to go into. After a few seconds, a satisfying click was heard as the cartridge found its home.

“It’s done… It may have cost us a dear coworker, but we can now print these papers.” muttered Watanabe as he took a step back to admire his and Satō’s work.

“Satō has lost his job so that we can continue ours. Let’s do our best from now on to honor his legacy.” replied Takahashi as he began printing the documents he needed.

“Monsieur? Hey, monsieur?”

“Hm? Oh right, I was just thinking about how that small bottle of ink reminded me of another small bottle of ink.” said Watanabe as he reeled back from a flashback scene.

“Monsieur, you won’t get anywhere if you spend half a minute thinking about such trifles as this small bottle.” replied Rabanowicz. “I am afraid you might blank out forever if I showed you the main bottle of ink I carry.”

Anyways, I now have a way to convert the currency of this world into currency on Earth. I should have probably made a matter as important as finding an exchange rate for currency one of the Rules for Being Sent to Another World now that I think about it, thought Watanabe. Now I know, if the bottle of ink previously in Rabanowicz’s hand and the bottle of ink that I bought is equal in value, that one seed of currency is exactly equal to 100-yen!

Thus, our hero flawlessly (?) concluded his quest to find an exchange value of “otherworld currency” to “not otherworld currency”.