Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
"Oh-ho. Well, everyone has their tastes, so I won't blame you for falling for a layabout, but it will be hard work for you."
"Aye. I am well aware."
When Holo and the old man with his missing tooth smiled at each other, Lawrence could do nothing but sigh.
"Well, most of the mixing girls are like that. That goes without saying, though."
"Well, what can I say. The more of a handful they are, the more fun it is."
The old man made a vexed smile and then called on the next girl in line behind them.
"And so I shall work admirably."
"Sure."
Lawrence responded with a sigh, and Holo gave a delightfully bright smile.
Working as a mixing girl seemed to suit Holo's personality well. Plenty of different kinds of wheat came from all over to the port, and just looking at it was enjoyable enough for her, so it was even more so when she was mixing and learning new things. Wheat husks stuck to her fluffy tail, Holo cheerfully wrote about her work as she spoke to Lawrence right up until she fell asleep.
Then, on the night of the second day, she also started to talk about the other mixing girls she worked with. There was, of all people, a traveling dancer who had also worked in Nyohhira, and they were surprised to see each other. There still were no guests in Nyohhira at this time of year, so she was earning a little pocket change in the meanwhile.
Of course, most of the women who worked as mixing girls were locals, and most of them were either poor or widows. Though it was a given, one could not make a whole lot of money mixing wheat.
Men could not take on this job in order to guarantee work for women who had nowhere else to make money, and it was also so the women did not end up on the wrong path and in ruin.
That being said, just as the old man at reception had mentioned, Holo said there were plenty who had ended up as mixing girls after finding themselves in ruin. Their romantic partners were good-for-nothings who had everything taken away from them by either alcohol or gambling.
"'Tis much like me." Holo had pretended to cry and then flapped her tail about happily. She was in the best mood whenever she got to tease Lawrence like that.
It was the third day, when he saw her off as she energetically made her way to work at the port.
Holo's joke wasn't entirely wrong, Lawrence thought to himself at the herring egg exchange.
"What is the meaning of this? They're closing the exchange?!"
Merchants yelled and the building shook. It was only times like this that he was not given any food or drink and simply stared hard at the board showing the prices of herring eggs.
Lawrence had come to the exchange because just after he had written a letter to a friendly company in the room, a member of the Debau Company came to give him the news.
He had been told that there was a problem with the herring egg exchange.
He rushed over after hearing that and found the whole place in confusion with talk over the exchange closing and everyone bellowing in rage at one another.
"God forbids fortune-telling. And gambling is nothing more than fortune-telling."
Standing there in the exchange, where great sums of money and greed flew back and forth, were several people who seemed completely out of place.
They were priests, clad in clerical robes.
"What's happening here is the exchange of herring eggs—not gambling!"
Someone yelled and a whole group of merchants surrounded the priests and glowered at them. Yet—no, because of that, the five or so priests did not recoil, keeping their dignified stances, and then spoke.
"How peculiar. You are conducting trade over herring eggs that do not yet exist here. That is no different from reading omens of the future."
The one who spoke with clear-cut logic was a young man who seemed to be the very picture of seriousness.

Output:
The ones around him, supporting him, were middle-aged priests.
"I have also heard that one of you here has never taken part in an actual deal with herring eggs—is that correct?"
When he said that, Lawrence could feel the merchants swallowing their words regretfully.
No one in this building had ever seen herring eggs before. They had no interest in the real goods and had come from so far away only because the price fluctuated so violently, making it the perfect article to speculate on.
They must have thought somewhere in those heads of theirs that they were doing something strange, so they understood that it looked even weirder from the outside.
"But this system is so old and important because it supports the lives of the fishermen who live in the northern islands!" a clever one yelled, and everyone around him agreed.
"And it's normal for merchants to buy and sell products that don't exist yet! We always forward-buy wheat, grapes, and other fruit! If you're going to criticize us for never touching herring eggs in real life, then what do you think of mines?! Merchants who pay for zoning for mines will never actually pick up a pickax and go there themselves! Why do only we deserve to be called gamblers?!"
A piercing applause rippled through the room.
Despite the mass of enraged merchants who surrounded them, the expressions on the priests' faces did not budge an inch. There was a rigidness that showed so much adherence to faith that just looking at them was refreshing.
"It is a question of fairness."
The young man's quiet voice had a strange force that made all the merchants recoil.
His manner reminded Lawrence so much of Col, who had debated with theologists so many times in the Nyohhira bathhouse.
"Some among you will earn an enormous fortune here in this exchange. But all those who catch the herring, process it, and transport it will never gain a matching amount of money without ever shedding a single drop of sweat. Then I cannot say anything but that there is something wrong with what is happening here."
Many of the merchants widened their eyes, spurred on by the impulse to jeer, but pulled their lips tightly shut, their faces red and their blue veins bulging from their temples.
Lawrence understood this logically.
The herring egg exchange was simply nothing more than gambling for the rich.
As the merchants and the priests continued their silent staring contest, a calm voice interjected.
"But it serves its uses to the town."
It was a skinny merchant with a beard that was half-white and half-black.
He seemed to be upper-middle class, but his demeanor exuded a calm that had a strange power to it.
"Because of the herring egg exchange, many merchants gather here in town, stay here, and pay whatever it takes to stay. And because of the herring egg exchange happening here, the fishermen of the north prioritize distributing their herring. If the herring egg exchange moved elsewhere, all the work surrounding herring would move there. They say that the very town of Atiph itself was an operation of herring egg exchanges at its foundation. This tradition supports the town."
Someone yelled, "Exactly!" and then came the cries of agreement and the eruption of applause.
Even if they had come to right the wrongs of this place, they worked for the church in Atiph, maintaining buildings with the townspeople's donations, making furniture, and hiring people. And in every town, either openly or secretly, the Church had a hand in trade. There was no way that a priest could harm the energy of a town. It was because of that cunningness that the Church had branches all over the world, more than any massive firm.
The merchant who spoke calmly, as well as the others who heard him speak, were sure of that fact. Along that train of thought, perhaps the priests were going to stir things up by presenting the rules and principles of faith and then trying to take taxes or something from the exchange.


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
The ones around him, supporting him, were middle-aged priests.
"I have also heard that one of you here has never taken part in an actual deal with herring eggs—is that correct?"
When he said that, Lawrence could feel the merchants swallowing their words regretfully.
No one in this building had ever seen herring eggs before. They had no interest in the real goods and had come from so far away only because the price fluctuated so violently, making it the perfect article to speculate on.
They must have thought somewhere in those heads of theirs that they were doing something strange, so they understood that it looked even weirder from the outside.
"But this system is so old and important because it supports the lives of the fishermen who live in the northern islands!" a clever one yelled, and everyone around him agreed.
"And it's normal for merchants to buy and sell products that don't exist yet! We always forward-buy wheat, grapes, and other fruit! If you're going to criticize us for never touching herring eggs in real life, then what do you think of mines?! Merchants who pay for zoning for mines will never actually pick up a pickax and go there themselves! Why do only we deserve to be called gamblers?!"
A piercing applause rippled through the room.
Despite the mass of enraged merchants who surrounded them, the expressions on the priests' faces did not budge an inch. There was a rigidness that showed so much adherence to faith that just looking at them was refreshing.
"It is a question of fairness."
The young man's quiet voice had a strange force that made all the merchants recoil.
His manner reminded Lawrence so much of Col, who had debated with theologists so many times in the Nyohhira bathhouse.
"Some among you will earn an enormous fortune here in this exchange. But all those who catch the herring, process it, and transport it will never gain a matching amount of money without ever shedding a single drop of sweat. Then I cannot say anything but that there is something wrong with what is happening here."
Many of the merchants widened their eyes, spurred on by the impulse to jeer, but pulled their lips tightly shut, their faces red and their blue veins bulging from their temples.
Lawrence understood this logically.
The herring egg exchange was simply nothing more than gambling for the rich.
As the merchants and the priests continued their silent staring contest, a calm voice interjected.
"But it serves its uses to the town."
It was a skinny merchant with a beard that was half-white and half-black.
He seemed to be upper-middle class, but his demeanor exuded a calm that had a strange power to it.
"Because of the herring egg exchange, many merchants gather here in town, stay here, and pay whatever it takes to stay. And because of the herring egg exchange happening here, the fishermen of the north prioritize distributing their herring. If the herring egg exchange moved elsewhere, all the work surrounding herring would move there. They say that the very town of Atiph itself was an operation of herring egg exchanges at its foundation. This tradition supports the town."
Someone yelled, "Exactly!" and then came the cries of agreement and the eruption of applause.
Even if they had come to right the wrongs of this place, they worked for the church in Atiph, maintaining buildings with the townspeople's donations, making furniture, and hiring people. And in every town, either openly or secretly, the Church had a hand in trade. There was no way that a priest could harm the energy of a town. It was because of that cunningness that the Church had branches all over the world, more than any massive firm.
The merchant who spoke calmly, as well as the others who heard him speak, were sure of that fact. Along that train of thought, perhaps the priests were going to stir things up by presenting the rules and principles of faith and then trying to take taxes or something from the exchange.

Output:
He had always been astonished by the priests' business sense when he had been a traveling merchant.
He thought it would be the same thing this time, but the priest said something unbelievable.
"In order to conform with the spirit of God, we at the ecclesiastical chapter have decided to close this exchange to keep the town from becoming a bed of vice."
The whole room fell quiet, like water had been dumped on it, and nobody bellowed in anger this time.
"We have recognized everything happening in this exchange as corrupt fortune-telling and gambling and moneylending that is considered sacrilegious under God."
The merchants' mouths hung open.
Were these priests for real? Were they really planning on unrooting this money tree and tossing it from the town? The Church, who was already dirtied with money? What for?
As everyone expressed their voiceless confusion, the previous merchant opened his mouth. Even his voice had gotten stiffer, perhaps because of the shock.
"...Many in town will oppose the closing of the herring egg exchange. Do you understand how much in earnings the town will lose because of this?"
The young priest, his expression so serious that it was almost terrifying, spat, "The majority of the townsfolk are not the kind to gamble gold and silver with a straight face like you. They sweat, work reliably, and earn their coppers. This town is being supported by their honest labor. And many of the townsfolk see you as corrupt merchants."
The merchants got the message that he was being serious.
No one spoke, so the young priest continued.
"And is there anything more important in this world than correct faith?"
To think a place so steeped in greed as this would end up having to hear a sermon.
The merchants did not bother hiding their looks of disgust.
But no one openly opposed the priest.
That was because they were merchants, and they were especially sensitive to the trends of the times.
"This town had also forgotten God's teachings until not too long ago. But we have taken back the correct faith. We will repent. God will forgive even your sins."
The trend of society was the Church and the reform of faith.
The townsfolk also agreed with that. That was why the feasts were all shut down.
But even if this place was closed, a place to exchange herring eggs was still absolutely necessary. It would be a hassle to move it, but it did not mean they would no longer be able to trade forever.
When the young priest saw the merchants flip the switches in their heads and start thinking about the next thing, he spoke.
"Therefore, in accordance with God's teachings, the ecclesiastical chapter has decided to confiscate all the dirty money that has been gambled with from this nest of vice."
"What?!"
Everyone looked up, and there were a handful who stood from their chairs.
No matter what they were told, even if their gambling place was shut down, there was one thing that merchants, even the ones who were well-behaved when their scales were balanced, would not tolerate.
And that was the forceful seizure of their gold and silver.
That was the only thing they would never stand for. That was the one territory where no one should tread.
Here, especially, there were many who put great sums of money on the line. They were placing their fates on money that was greater than the sum of their parts.
It was when the atmosphere was fully charged and in danger of erupting that something astonishing happened.
"But God always forgives you. If you are to repent at the church, then you will be granted a pardon for your sins as well as the return of your purified money."
It was an old trick of the Church to offer a chance to repent after announcing a severe punishment. By flashing goodwill after a hefty price, they bought favors from others. They said they would return the money they took, yet there was no doubt that they would take part as prayer charges or something of the sort. But still, it was absolutely better than losing everything.


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
He had always been astonished by the priests' business sense when he had been a traveling merchant.
He thought it would be the same thing this time, but the priest said something unbelievable.
"In order to conform with the spirit of God, we at the ecclesiastical chapter have decided to close this exchange to keep the town from becoming a bed of vice."
The whole room fell quiet, like water had been dumped on it, and nobody bellowed in anger this time.
"We have recognized everything happening in this exchange as corrupt fortune-telling and gambling and moneylending that is considered sacrilegious under God."
The merchants' mouths hung open.
Were these priests for real? Were they really planning on unrooting this money tree and tossing it from the town? The Church, who was already dirtied with money? What for?
As everyone expressed their voiceless confusion, the previous merchant opened his mouth. Even his voice had gotten stiffer, perhaps because of the shock.
"...Many in town will oppose the closing of the herring egg exchange. Do you understand how much in earnings the town will lose because of this?"
The young priest, his expression so serious that it was almost terrifying, spat, "The majority of the townsfolk are not the kind to gamble gold and silver with a straight face like you. They sweat, work reliably, and earn their coppers. This town is being supported by their honest labor. And many of the townsfolk see you as corrupt merchants."
The merchants got the message that he was being serious.
No one spoke, so the young priest continued.
"And is there anything more important in this world than correct faith?"
To think a place so steeped in greed as this would end up having to hear a sermon.
The merchants did not bother hiding their looks of disgust.
But no one openly opposed the priest.
That was because they were merchants, and they were especially sensitive to the trends of the times.
"This town had also forgotten God's teachings until not too long ago. But we have taken back the correct faith. We will repent. God will forgive even your sins."
The trend of society was the Church and the reform of faith.
The townsfolk also agreed with that. That was why the feasts were all shut down.
But even if this place was closed, a place to exchange herring eggs was still absolutely necessary. It would be a hassle to move it, but it did not mean they would no longer be able to trade forever.
When the young priest saw the merchants flip the switches in their heads and start thinking about the next thing, he spoke.
"Therefore, in accordance with God's teachings, the ecclesiastical chapter has decided to confiscate all the dirty money that has been gambled with from this nest of vice."
"What?!"
Everyone looked up, and there were a handful who stood from their chairs.
No matter what they were told, even if their gambling place was shut down, there was one thing that merchants, even the ones who were well-behaved when their scales were balanced, would not tolerate.
And that was the forceful seizure of their gold and silver.
That was the only thing they would never stand for. That was the one territory where no one should tread.
Here, especially, there were many who put great sums of money on the line. They were placing their fates on money that was greater than the sum of their parts.
It was when the atmosphere was fully charged and in danger of erupting that something astonishing happened.
"But God always forgives you. If you are to repent at the church, then you will be granted a pardon for your sins as well as the return of your purified money."
It was an old trick of the Church to offer a chance to repent after announcing a severe punishment. By flashing goodwill after a hefty price, they bought favors from others. They said they would return the money they took, yet there was no doubt that they would take part as prayer charges or something of the sort. But still, it was absolutely better than losing everything.

Output:
"The townspeople see your corrupt gambling as an act of turning away from God. Do you still plan on continuing your trade, even when the townsfolk of such a faithful village look at you with such contempt?"
Now, as the search for correct faith was gaining momentum, merchants who used lavish amounts of money in fishy gambling such as this herring egg exchange had awful reputations.
The Church listened to the people's reports and saw this as a good opportunity.
They could penalize the merchants, and they could also show the townsfolk how they worked.
It seemed like the outcome was already decided.
"...When will you give our money back?" someone asked.
The young priest gave a kind smile, one he would show in morning prayer.
It was, somehow, reminiscent of Col.
"In just two days from now, we will hold a mass in celebration of the arrival of a painting of the Twilight Cardinal, who lit the fires of correct faith in this town and in this world, and of Saint Myuri, who supports him. Come to this event."
Most of the merchants seemed to accept that was what they had to do, but Lawrence was among some who looked upset.
And he knew well why the merchants shared that expression with him.
"Confess your sins to the church and pray, and God will offer protection for your trade."
The young priest smiled with benevolence and spoke not with any irony or sarcasm but as though he was truly praying for the merchants' souls.
But when Lawrence imagined that, he broke out in an unpleasant sweat. He was not of a heretical faith that worshipped toads or anything like that. He was fine with the idea of bowing his head at the Church to get his money back. Faithful or not, he was a former merchant who had done this many times before.
But the problem was that he had many acquaintances in this town.
The majority of the people with clouded looks were likely local merchants. Nobody would be happy to be seen as an idiot by their trading partners.
Also, Holo had also been invited to the unveiling of the painting. When he imagined himself staggering forth for a confession in order to get the money back from a failed transaction that he had kept secret from her, he felt dizzy. He had no idea how much she was going to taunt him and how annoyed she would be with him.
Not only that, looking down at his foolish self would be none other than a painting of his daughter, Myuri, and the boy who may as well be his son, Col!
Lawrence did not listen to any of the details afterward and staggered out of the herring egg exchange.
He knew he had to do something about it, but he pretty much already had his answer. The money he had gambled was not enough to rock their foundation, but he could not have just thrown away several weeks' worth of hard work for his own pride given how hard Holo was working.
More importantly, just after he had decided he would give up on the gambling money and not go to the confession, he had no confidence in himself to hide it all from her. She had an unusually sharp intuition when it came to these things.
So instead of having her sniff it out and expose him, he would rather tell her himself.
That was all he could think of.
But...Lawrence groaned in a murmur.
Unlike gambling with dice, the herring egg exchange had a limit on its losses. If it went well, then he would strike it rich, but if it went badly, then the losses would not be too terrible.
He had no idea there would be a pitfall like this one...He almost wanted to curse God himself, but he was a little late in remembering that these sorts of things came with trade.
Lawrence stood frozen at the port, looking up to the sky, and sighed.
He wanted to drink until he blacked out.
Holo came home that day, wheat husks clinging to her hair and tail. Lawrence plucked the husks off her tail as she cheerfully told him about what had happened.


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
"The townspeople see your corrupt gambling as an act of turning away from God. Do you still plan on continuing your trade, even when the townsfolk of such a faithful village look at you with such contempt?"
Now, as the search for correct faith was gaining momentum, merchants who used lavish amounts of money in fishy gambling such as this herring egg exchange had awful reputations.
The Church listened to the people's reports and saw this as a good opportunity.
They could penalize the merchants, and they could also show the townsfolk how they worked.
It seemed like the outcome was already decided.
"...When will you give our money back?" someone asked.
The young priest gave a kind smile, one he would show in morning prayer.
It was, somehow, reminiscent of Col.
"In just two days from now, we will hold a mass in celebration of the arrival of a painting of the Twilight Cardinal, who lit the fires of correct faith in this town and in this world, and of Saint Myuri, who supports him. Come to this event."
Most of the merchants seemed to accept that was what they had to do, but Lawrence was among some who looked upset.
And he knew well why the merchants shared that expression with him.
"Confess your sins to the church and pray, and God will offer protection for your trade."
The young priest smiled with benevolence and spoke not with any irony or sarcasm but as though he was truly praying for the merchants' souls.
But when Lawrence imagined that, he broke out in an unpleasant sweat. He was not of a heretical faith that worshipped toads or anything like that. He was fine with the idea of bowing his head at the Church to get his money back. Faithful or not, he was a former merchant who had done this many times before.
But the problem was that he had many acquaintances in this town.
The majority of the people with clouded looks were likely local merchants. Nobody would be happy to be seen as an idiot by their trading partners.
Also, Holo had also been invited to the unveiling of the painting. When he imagined himself staggering forth for a confession in order to get the money back from a failed transaction that he had kept secret from her, he felt dizzy. He had no idea how much she was going to taunt him and how annoyed she would be with him.
Not only that, looking down at his foolish self would be none other than a painting of his daughter, Myuri, and the boy who may as well be his son, Col!
Lawrence did not listen to any of the details afterward and staggered out of the herring egg exchange.
He knew he had to do something about it, but he pretty much already had his answer. The money he had gambled was not enough to rock their foundation, but he could not have just thrown away several weeks' worth of hard work for his own pride given how hard Holo was working.
More importantly, just after he had decided he would give up on the gambling money and not go to the confession, he had no confidence in himself to hide it all from her. She had an unusually sharp intuition when it came to these things.
So instead of having her sniff it out and expose him, he would rather tell her himself.
That was all he could think of.
But...Lawrence groaned in a murmur.
Unlike gambling with dice, the herring egg exchange had a limit on its losses. If it went well, then he would strike it rich, but if it went badly, then the losses would not be too terrible.
He had no idea there would be a pitfall like this one...He almost wanted to curse God himself, but he was a little late in remembering that these sorts of things came with trade.
Lawrence stood frozen at the port, looking up to the sky, and sighed.
He wanted to drink until he blacked out.
Holo came home that day, wheat husks clinging to her hair and tail. Lawrence plucked the husks off her tail as she cheerfully told him about what had happened.

Output:
Unable to bear the pressure, Lawrence finally confessed when Holo turned her back to him, asking him to massage her shoulders.
But unlike times before, almost all the money he gambled away would come back to him, and there would be no enormous damages to their business in the future. The biggest loss would probably be how she would tease him when they placed orders.
And above all, he had made the bet for Holo's sake.
He did not have to explain it in detail for Holo to understand that right away.
That was why she did not raise her brows, or bare her fangs, or call him a fool.
Holo only sat cross-legged on the bed, staring at Lawrence with a quiet gaze as he sat searching his conscience on the floor.
Lawrence could only hang his head.
It was practically the same as training a dog.
"Honestly...I feel like I am scolding Myuri right now."
When Holo spoke with a sigh, Lawrence finally lifted his head.
"I always say how much she is like you."
Both he and Holo always fought over who the mischievous Myuri most resembled, and he now renewed his understand of his own faults.
"I'm ashamed."
Holo briefly glanced at Lawrence before giving another deep sigh.
She then slid off the bed and stood before him.
"You are the same as that restless, idiotic pup. Sniff-sniff, something smells good, better jump at it!"
Unable to deny it, Lawrence turned away in shame.
Holo then crept closer, so he had no choice but to look at her.
As her red eyes peered at him, he thoughtlessly marveled at how beautiful they were.
He would never want his daughter to see him like this.
Holo stood up and scratched her head. Her annoyed demeanor was not directed toward him but was entirely self-deprecating.
"Honestly, I cannot believe I fell for something like this."
Holo tilted her head and gave one last big sigh.
Lawrence hung his head again, and she said, "But dogs have their own way of being useful."
"Huh?"
He lifted his head, and she had extended a hand to him.
She was telling him to stand.
He gripped her hand and, with a puzzled look, stood.
"My work friends have been sighing over losing their jobs."
"Work friends?"
When he asked, Holo's ears flitted about, displeased.
"The mixing girls."
"Oh, right...And?"
It might have had something to do with the herring egg exchange.
Holo folded her arms across her chest and said with an earnest look, "Some of us, like the dancing girl and me, have come to this town by chance, but most of them are poor girls from town. They are all good-natured and honest workers."
"Right, okay."
Holo did not often compliment others, so Lawrence was rather surprised.
"And...it seems we all have similar taste in males."
When she said that, she looked away in disgust.
Now that she mentioned it, the old man who managed the girls' work had said something similar. Most of the women had found themselves working as mixing girls because they had fallen in love with scoundrels.
"Anyway, I cannot ignore them. I was just thinking about talking to you about the place you mentioned."
"...The...herring egg exchange?"
"Aye. The girls receive a good bit of work from them. They will find themselves in trouble if it was to shut down. It was chaos when we received the news."
He looked at her to confirm, and she sighed and scratched the base of her ear.
"The cause is that whole commotion little Col and that fool Myuri started, no? If the girls lose their means of livelihood because of them, then I will be forced to give up the name of the wisewolf."
Col had left on a journey to bring back correct faith into society, and Myuri left right behind him. Myuri looked like she was admirably supporting Col in the Church's painting, but Lawrence doubted she would be okay with such a minor role, so he figured that she had a big responsibility for it, too.
In that case, it was their role as her parents to get rid of as many adverse effects as they could.
That was honest Holo's way of thinking.
"But I do not know much about the human world. That sort is your territory."


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
Unable to bear the pressure, Lawrence finally confessed when Holo turned her back to him, asking him to massage her shoulders.
But unlike times before, almost all the money he gambled away would come back to him, and there would be no enormous damages to their business in the future. The biggest loss would probably be how she would tease him when they placed orders.
And above all, he had made the bet for Holo's sake.
He did not have to explain it in detail for Holo to understand that right away.
That was why she did not raise her brows, or bare her fangs, or call him a fool.
Holo only sat cross-legged on the bed, staring at Lawrence with a quiet gaze as he sat searching his conscience on the floor.
Lawrence could only hang his head.
It was practically the same as training a dog.
"Honestly...I feel like I am scolding Myuri right now."
When Holo spoke with a sigh, Lawrence finally lifted his head.
"I always say how much she is like you."
Both he and Holo always fought over who the mischievous Myuri most resembled, and he now renewed his understand of his own faults.
"I'm ashamed."
Holo briefly glanced at Lawrence before giving another deep sigh.
She then slid off the bed and stood before him.
"You are the same as that restless, idiotic pup. Sniff-sniff, something smells good, better jump at it!"
Unable to deny it, Lawrence turned away in shame.
Holo then crept closer, so he had no choice but to look at her.
As her red eyes peered at him, he thoughtlessly marveled at how beautiful they were.
He would never want his daughter to see him like this.
Holo stood up and scratched her head. Her annoyed demeanor was not directed toward him but was entirely self-deprecating.
"Honestly, I cannot believe I fell for something like this."
Holo tilted her head and gave one last big sigh.
Lawrence hung his head again, and she said, "But dogs have their own way of being useful."
"Huh?"
He lifted his head, and she had extended a hand to him.
She was telling him to stand.
He gripped her hand and, with a puzzled look, stood.
"My work friends have been sighing over losing their jobs."
"Work friends?"
When he asked, Holo's ears flitted about, displeased.
"The mixing girls."
"Oh, right...And?"
It might have had something to do with the herring egg exchange.
Holo folded her arms across her chest and said with an earnest look, "Some of us, like the dancing girl and me, have come to this town by chance, but most of them are poor girls from town. They are all good-natured and honest workers."
"Right, okay."
Holo did not often compliment others, so Lawrence was rather surprised.
"And...it seems we all have similar taste in males."
When she said that, she looked away in disgust.
Now that she mentioned it, the old man who managed the girls' work had said something similar. Most of the women had found themselves working as mixing girls because they had fallen in love with scoundrels.
"Anyway, I cannot ignore them. I was just thinking about talking to you about the place you mentioned."
"...The...herring egg exchange?"
"Aye. The girls receive a good bit of work from them. They will find themselves in trouble if it was to shut down. It was chaos when we received the news."
He looked at her to confirm, and she sighed and scratched the base of her ear.
"The cause is that whole commotion little Col and that fool Myuri started, no? If the girls lose their means of livelihood because of them, then I will be forced to give up the name of the wisewolf."
Col had left on a journey to bring back correct faith into society, and Myuri left right behind him. Myuri looked like she was admirably supporting Col in the Church's painting, but Lawrence doubted she would be okay with such a minor role, so he figured that she had a big responsibility for it, too.
In that case, it was their role as her parents to get rid of as many adverse effects as they could.
That was honest Holo's way of thinking.
"But I do not know much about the human world. That sort is your territory."

Output:
"Can you tell me more?"
What Holo told him about were the stories of those who worked at the very bottom, something not a lot of people saw.
Those at the exchange likely had no intentions of ever learning how they were related to the mixing girls, and without a doubt, the people of the Church were the same. And so that meant they were also among the privileged, unable to see who was standing under them.
"What do you think? Could you be of help?"
When he looked at Holo, who had ended up connecting with people she had worked with for only such a short time and felt pain for, Lawrence's heart hurt as well.
But he placed his hands on her slim shoulders.
He might now be a clumsy bathhouse owner, but he was still a notorious merchant who had once even captivated a wolf who was called the wisewolf.
"I can."
Holo's face immediately beamed. There originally used to be a dark light in Holo's eyes, when she had spent her days without any thanks, forgotten in a village wheat field, thinking only of her home.
Lawrence had taken her hand and brought her on a big journey in order to bring light into her beautiful red eyes.
He remembered how young he had been over a decade ago and said, "I'm a merchant. I'll earn my losses back."
He would also recover from getting involved in a stupid deal that only annoyed Holo.
Holo smiled, exasperated at his enthusiasm.
"You are the male I fell for. I should be embarrassed if you fell and got up for free."
Exactly.
And as long as he had what Holo had told him, it was entirely possible that they could deal with it.
"Well, then."
"Yeah," Lawrence said. "The one stupid thing I have to avoid is repentance in front of that picture of Myuri."
Holo burst out in laughter, raised a single eyebrow in annoyance, and then patted Lawrence on the back.
The first part of their groundwork would be laid down at none other than the herring egg exchange.
Lawrence wanted the Church to withdraw their decision, but it might turn out to be that most merchants would not like the thought of stirring up trouble with the Church. It was sensible to think that it was fine to let sleeping dogs lie as long as they got their betting money back.
On top of that, it had been a while since Lawrence had negotiated with a merchant, so with out-of-character nervousness, he made his way to the exchange.
"Are you in charge of this exchange?"
There were only a few merchants in the now-empty exchange, and among them was the man who had written down Lawrence's bet in the book.
"I have an idea regarding the Church's high-handedness."
The man's eyes widened when Lawrence spoke, and he grinned.
"It's nice to see someone with a backbone. Everyone else just shrugged and walked away...But in that case, the boss's over there. We're not an association or anything, so no one's really taking control, but...if he says anything, most merchants will listen."
The man was pointing to an aging merchant, the one who had dealt with the priests in a calm manner.
"He's a former big shot of the Ruvik Alliance. He's retired now, but he ran several long-distance transport ships at the height of his career, and people called him Governor-General."
The Ruvik Alliance was the world's largest trade association, and a dozen or so trading cities were a part of it.
While Lawrence was surprised that someone so important was in a place like this, the man now sat alone at a table, listlessly sipping his drink. He was almost like a pouting child who had his toy taken away.
Lawrence felt an affinity for his state.
He was surely a merchant deep at his core, someone who could not separate himself from the charm of trade even after retirement.
"Pardon me. May I?"
Lawrence approached the table and spoke out to him, and the man looked at him with quiet eyes.
"Do you have an idea to deal with this situation?"
He had good ears, and he did not look down on Lawrence.
He was happy to hear the genuine merchantlike response, one that asked him to speak so long as he proved useful.


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
"Can you tell me more?"
What Holo told him about were the stories of those who worked at the very bottom, something not a lot of people saw.
Those at the exchange likely had no intentions of ever learning how they were related to the mixing girls, and without a doubt, the people of the Church were the same. And so that meant they were also among the privileged, unable to see who was standing under them.
"What do you think? Could you be of help?"
When he looked at Holo, who had ended up connecting with people she had worked with for only such a short time and felt pain for, Lawrence's heart hurt as well.
But he placed his hands on her slim shoulders.
He might now be a clumsy bathhouse owner, but he was still a notorious merchant who had once even captivated a wolf who was called the wisewolf.
"I can."
Holo's face immediately beamed. There originally used to be a dark light in Holo's eyes, when she had spent her days without any thanks, forgotten in a village wheat field, thinking only of her home.
Lawrence had taken her hand and brought her on a big journey in order to bring light into her beautiful red eyes.
He remembered how young he had been over a decade ago and said, "I'm a merchant. I'll earn my losses back."
He would also recover from getting involved in a stupid deal that only annoyed Holo.
Holo smiled, exasperated at his enthusiasm.
"You are the male I fell for. I should be embarrassed if you fell and got up for free."
Exactly.
And as long as he had what Holo had told him, it was entirely possible that they could deal with it.
"Well, then."
"Yeah," Lawrence said. "The one stupid thing I have to avoid is repentance in front of that picture of Myuri."
Holo burst out in laughter, raised a single eyebrow in annoyance, and then patted Lawrence on the back.
The first part of their groundwork would be laid down at none other than the herring egg exchange.
Lawrence wanted the Church to withdraw their decision, but it might turn out to be that most merchants would not like the thought of stirring up trouble with the Church. It was sensible to think that it was fine to let sleeping dogs lie as long as they got their betting money back.
On top of that, it had been a while since Lawrence had negotiated with a merchant, so with out-of-character nervousness, he made his way to the exchange.
"Are you in charge of this exchange?"
There were only a few merchants in the now-empty exchange, and among them was the man who had written down Lawrence's bet in the book.
"I have an idea regarding the Church's high-handedness."
The man's eyes widened when Lawrence spoke, and he grinned.
"It's nice to see someone with a backbone. Everyone else just shrugged and walked away...But in that case, the boss's over there. We're not an association or anything, so no one's really taking control, but...if he says anything, most merchants will listen."
The man was pointing to an aging merchant, the one who had dealt with the priests in a calm manner.
"He's a former big shot of the Ruvik Alliance. He's retired now, but he ran several long-distance transport ships at the height of his career, and people called him Governor-General."
The Ruvik Alliance was the world's largest trade association, and a dozen or so trading cities were a part of it.
While Lawrence was surprised that someone so important was in a place like this, the man now sat alone at a table, listlessly sipping his drink. He was almost like a pouting child who had his toy taken away.
Lawrence felt an affinity for his state.
He was surely a merchant deep at his core, someone who could not separate himself from the charm of trade even after retirement.
"Pardon me. May I?"
Lawrence approached the table and spoke out to him, and the man looked at him with quiet eyes.
"Do you have an idea to deal with this situation?"
He had good ears, and he did not look down on Lawrence.
He was happy to hear the genuine merchantlike response, one that asked him to speak so long as he proved useful.

Output:
A former executive of a massive company would unsurprisingly suggest bribery right at the start.
"But the Church is right in the middle of enacting reform, so they cut me off. That young man seems to think of himself as the Twilight Archbishop."
He had no idea how badly this man had been burned by the greedy Church, but it was inconvenient enough that the miracle potion of money did not work when it needed to.
"They even turned down the idea of paying a tax. It seems like they really marched in here only because they thought it was a problem of faith. They're closing down this fun playground."
The governor-general sighed and cracked his neck.
"We have no choice but to bow our heads like we've been told and take our betting money elsewhere."
"But once you show submission, the next time something happens, you will be hit even harder and weakened even more. They might cut in even wherever you end up running to."
There was a church no matter what town anyone went to in the world, and whether it was a relationship between people or between organizations, once one side started to show a habit for losing, the other would just drag them along. That was why the beginning was so critical.
"I've already tried all the old tricks now—do you have any ideas?"
The man's light-blue eyes turned to him.
Lawrence readily greeted his gaze straight on and said, "Of course. At the end of the day, the people of the Church also live in a decorous world."
"Hmm?"
"There are others we should be working with."
There were some places that someone who had once been called Governor-General never saw, all because of his high point of view.
As Lawrence laid out the proposal that he and Holo had worked out, the great, aging merchant's face immediately tensed, and when Lawrence was finished, he smacked himself on the forehead.
"They say the darkest area is right under the lighthouse! In all my forty years of trade, I've brought together the cargo handlers. But, right...there was still a gap between the company warehouse and the ship."
Even Lawrence, who was of a much lower standing than him, did not know about such piecework systems.
That was because they had spent all their days out of the presence of women, so of course they would not know of territory belonging only to them.
"After getting the mixing girls together and on our side, I would like to go negotiate with the Church along with a few other suggestions. We should have a fair chance of success, but does everyone else here agree?"
If all that came back to him was his betting money, Lawrence would not particularly care for the longevity of the exchange, but when he thought about saving the mixing girls Holo worked with, then his only option was to keep the exchange running.
"Wait. Let me do some quick math in my head...Right, it would be cheaper than paying taxes to the Church. The best thing is that we won't be bowing down to them. This is an excellent exchange, and not one begging for forgiveness. An exchange means talk of profit and loss, and talk of profit and loss means everyone will probably easily accept it, and I'll keep that lot from going on and on. They won't get to close down our playground!"
The governor-general stood and gallantly extended his hand like a man of the sea.
"I won't stop making money until the day I die. Are you the same?"
Lawrence grasped his hand and said, "My wife always tells me to give it a rest."
The governor-general grinned like a pirate, though his expression returned to a prim one just a moment later.
"But I think I want something to just give it a little more oomph. Whatever excuses we may have, it doesn't look like a fancy place of prayer in here."
Perhaps because of the strange excitement that came with betting exorbitant amounts of money, there were odd decorations all over the exchange.


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
A former executive of a massive company would unsurprisingly suggest bribery right at the start.
"But the Church is right in the middle of enacting reform, so they cut me off. That young man seems to think of himself as the Twilight Archbishop."
He had no idea how badly this man had been burned by the greedy Church, but it was inconvenient enough that the miracle potion of money did not work when it needed to.
"They even turned down the idea of paying a tax. It seems like they really marched in here only because they thought it was a problem of faith. They're closing down this fun playground."
The governor-general sighed and cracked his neck.
"We have no choice but to bow our heads like we've been told and take our betting money elsewhere."
"But once you show submission, the next time something happens, you will be hit even harder and weakened even more. They might cut in even wherever you end up running to."
There was a church no matter what town anyone went to in the world, and whether it was a relationship between people or between organizations, once one side started to show a habit for losing, the other would just drag them along. That was why the beginning was so critical.
"I've already tried all the old tricks now—do you have any ideas?"
The man's light-blue eyes turned to him.
Lawrence readily greeted his gaze straight on and said, "Of course. At the end of the day, the people of the Church also live in a decorous world."
"Hmm?"
"There are others we should be working with."
There were some places that someone who had once been called Governor-General never saw, all because of his high point of view.
As Lawrence laid out the proposal that he and Holo had worked out, the great, aging merchant's face immediately tensed, and when Lawrence was finished, he smacked himself on the forehead.
"They say the darkest area is right under the lighthouse! In all my forty years of trade, I've brought together the cargo handlers. But, right...there was still a gap between the company warehouse and the ship."
Even Lawrence, who was of a much lower standing than him, did not know about such piecework systems.
That was because they had spent all their days out of the presence of women, so of course they would not know of territory belonging only to them.
"After getting the mixing girls together and on our side, I would like to go negotiate with the Church along with a few other suggestions. We should have a fair chance of success, but does everyone else here agree?"
If all that came back to him was his betting money, Lawrence would not particularly care for the longevity of the exchange, but when he thought about saving the mixing girls Holo worked with, then his only option was to keep the exchange running.
"Wait. Let me do some quick math in my head...Right, it would be cheaper than paying taxes to the Church. The best thing is that we won't be bowing down to them. This is an excellent exchange, and not one begging for forgiveness. An exchange means talk of profit and loss, and talk of profit and loss means everyone will probably easily accept it, and I'll keep that lot from going on and on. They won't get to close down our playground!"
The governor-general stood and gallantly extended his hand like a man of the sea.
"I won't stop making money until the day I die. Are you the same?"
Lawrence grasped his hand and said, "My wife always tells me to give it a rest."
The governor-general grinned like a pirate, though his expression returned to a prim one just a moment later.
"But I think I want something to just give it a little more oomph. Whatever excuses we may have, it doesn't look like a fancy place of prayer in here."
Perhaps because of the strange excitement that came with betting exorbitant amounts of money, there were odd decorations all over the exchange.

Output:
And on the opposite wall was a black-and-white painting of a massive herring carrying eggs butting heads with a massive sardine. It looked like there was water splashing all around them, but on a closer look, it was obvious that it was silver coins. To put it modestly, it looked like a place to pray for victory in battle for a tribe.
But when Lawrence looked around at all of it, he had an idea.
It is all for the sake of the exchange.
"We might have to alter some things. For example..."
Merchants would not get up for free if they fell.
Once he was done filling in the various details with the governor-general, they called a meeting with all the forever-gambling merchants.
Lawrence immediately headed to the warehouses in the harbor, and they had a talk with the mixing girls who Holo had brought together. There was no way, of course, that they would turn down the idea. With an energy that put the cargo handlers to shame, they agreed.
But it would be dangerous if they proceeded without any recourses, so Lawrence devised another plan and made it the secret ingredient.
He would need Holo's cooperation and the connections he had fostered at the bathhouse.
The following day, the merchants all made a line and headed for the church of Atiph.
The townspeople were busy getting ready for the special mass that would be happening the following day outside the church doors.
"Is the Father in?"
Leading the pack was the most dignified of all of them, the governor-general.
His beard and hair had been stiffened with egg whites, and he had changed into clothes of the highest quality, starched so much that touching them might cause them to crack. It would not be odd if he went straight to attend the royal court.
And it was the way he acted, too.
The worker the governor-general spoke to was shocked, almost dropping the gold plating with which he was decorating the church doors. "Inside," was all he said and removed his hat, perhaps mistaking him for a noble.
But his eyes widened even more when he saw who followed after the swarm of merchants.
The inside of the church was also in the midst of preparations, with scaffolding built up here and there, artisans doing their work on it. They made their way straight through the busy scene, walking boldly into the nave.
Beneath the high ceiling, which seemed like it might suck them up into the air, right in the middle of a red carpet laid out on the aisle, stood the high-ranking priests, seemingly talking about where they would hang their new painting.
"Oh, it's you..."
The one who turned around was the young priest who had been teased as the Twilight Archbishop.
He looked around at all the merchants, and his gaze turned into a stern one.
"If this is about yesterday, then everything is already settled. And we will not be misled by anything but the blessings of—"
He likely thought they had all come to bribe him again. As the young priest was about to ramble on, the governor-general raised a hand to stop him.
"No. We have been touched by your faith, Father, and we have opened our eyes. And so we have also decided that we would like to follow the scripture and act in accordance with God's will."
"...Which means?"
There came a clearing of the throat.
"Yes, God said that we must share what we have. And so we have decided that we will serve free meals at the exchange to all the more unfortunate who have a hand in the herring trade."
The young priest raised his eyebrows and turned to look at the senior priests beside him.
"That is an admirable way of thinking, but..."
"Indeed, of course, I cannot ask you something so selfish as to keep the exchange open in this town for that alone. We will follow the holy decision that both you and the chapter have come to."
But all the merchants had come silently to this meeting, so there was no way it could be nothing.
After the priests whispered to one another, the young priest spoke as their representative.
"Then why have you come?"


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
And on the opposite wall was a black-and-white painting of a massive herring carrying eggs butting heads with a massive sardine. It looked like there was water splashing all around them, but on a closer look, it was obvious that it was silver coins. To put it modestly, it looked like a place to pray for victory in battle for a tribe.
But when Lawrence looked around at all of it, he had an idea.
It is all for the sake of the exchange.
"We might have to alter some things. For example..."
Merchants would not get up for free if they fell.
Once he was done filling in the various details with the governor-general, they called a meeting with all the forever-gambling merchants.
Lawrence immediately headed to the warehouses in the harbor, and they had a talk with the mixing girls who Holo had brought together. There was no way, of course, that they would turn down the idea. With an energy that put the cargo handlers to shame, they agreed.
But it would be dangerous if they proceeded without any recourses, so Lawrence devised another plan and made it the secret ingredient.
He would need Holo's cooperation and the connections he had fostered at the bathhouse.
The following day, the merchants all made a line and headed for the church of Atiph.
The townspeople were busy getting ready for the special mass that would be happening the following day outside the church doors.
"Is the Father in?"
Leading the pack was the most dignified of all of them, the governor-general.
His beard and hair had been stiffened with egg whites, and he had changed into clothes of the highest quality, starched so much that touching them might cause them to crack. It would not be odd if he went straight to attend the royal court.
And it was the way he acted, too.
The worker the governor-general spoke to was shocked, almost dropping the gold plating with which he was decorating the church doors. "Inside," was all he said and removed his hat, perhaps mistaking him for a noble.
But his eyes widened even more when he saw who followed after the swarm of merchants.
The inside of the church was also in the midst of preparations, with scaffolding built up here and there, artisans doing their work on it. They made their way straight through the busy scene, walking boldly into the nave.
Beneath the high ceiling, which seemed like it might suck them up into the air, right in the middle of a red carpet laid out on the aisle, stood the high-ranking priests, seemingly talking about where they would hang their new painting.
"Oh, it's you..."
The one who turned around was the young priest who had been teased as the Twilight Archbishop.
He looked around at all the merchants, and his gaze turned into a stern one.
"If this is about yesterday, then everything is already settled. And we will not be misled by anything but the blessings of—"
He likely thought they had all come to bribe him again. As the young priest was about to ramble on, the governor-general raised a hand to stop him.
"No. We have been touched by your faith, Father, and we have opened our eyes. And so we have also decided that we would like to follow the scripture and act in accordance with God's will."
"...Which means?"
There came a clearing of the throat.
"Yes, God said that we must share what we have. And so we have decided that we will serve free meals at the exchange to all the more unfortunate who have a hand in the herring trade."
The young priest raised his eyebrows and turned to look at the senior priests beside him.
"That is an admirable way of thinking, but..."
"Indeed, of course, I cannot ask you something so selfish as to keep the exchange open in this town for that alone. We will follow the holy decision that both you and the chapter have come to."
But all the merchants had come silently to this meeting, so there was no way it could be nothing.
After the priests whispered to one another, the young priest spoke as their representative.
"Then why have you come?"

Output:
"What?"
"These are the ones who have words for you."
The merchants then stepped to either side, creating a path all the way to the entrance to the nave.
The priests looked down the path with quizzical expressions.
There stood the mixing girls in their short sleeves and with husks of wheat clinging to their arms.
"Father, do you ever wonder how the wheat from far away that ends up as your wafers gets to this town and goes into the oven?"
"Wheat...What?"
The priests, with their pale skin hardly ever touched by the sun and their thin, delicate fingers, as well as the well-dressed, intellectual young priest, of course, were all flustered. They had likely been learning Church law ever since they were children, so they had rarely ever come into contact with wider society.
"The grains are cut, stuffed into bags, carried by cart, packed into ships, and taken on a long, long road. But there are the unseen who fill in the gaps of that series of processes. Those are these girls. If these girls did not come diligently to mix the wheat every morning and night once it is stuffed into bags and put away in the warehouses, it would soon grow moldy, and disease would creep into the bread we eat every day."
When the governor-general gave his message, the mixing girls all elegantly bowed. Such polite etiquette shone brilliantly against the worn-out clothing they wore.
"Father." The governor-general stepped forward and kneeled before the priests.
His act, resembling a noble confessing his faith, looked like it belonged in a play at a festival.
"We certainly are greedy merchants. That is something I cannot deny. But these women are different. They support the livelihood of the people of this town from places unseen, and I believe they are the very ones who should be bathed in the light of God."
"Er...um...?"
The priest gave a confused nod and turned to look at the women.
They were all grasping the Church crests before their chests. Their gazes were trained downward and they looked so devout, their actions stirring up sympathy to anyone watching.
"B-but, but so? I understand who they are, but how are they related to you? You...deal with herring eggs, right? Do they not mix wheat?"
When the priest asked, the eyes of the great merchant who was the governor-general glinted.
"Wheat is a seasonal item, which means there are times of the year in which they are not mixing wheat. Once they've delivered the wheat for winter sowing, do you know what they will be mixing instead?"
"Huh? N-no..."
The governor-general then said, "Herring eggs."
That was the reason why Holo asked for Lawrence's help after catching wind of the problem from the other girls. At the herring egg exchange, there were merchants who watched the bets until the very end, separate from the merchants who took part in it. It was because of these merchants, who collected the herring eggs, that the fishermen brought the herring to this town. And much like wheat, herring eggs could not simply sit in barrels and be okay.
Many merchants did not know that, and of course there was no way for the clergy to know that, since they had never eaten herring eggs before, which was why they so easily said they were going to close the exchange.
"There are two kinds of exchanges when it comes to herring eggs. That is simply because there are two kinds of herring eggs that are being dealt with."
"O-oh?"
"First, the dried eggs. Sunny days are necessary to dry them, and the girls work hard every day to do just that as well as mixing and managing them—and that is why they never spoil."
"O-oh..."


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
"What?"
"These are the ones who have words for you."
The merchants then stepped to either side, creating a path all the way to the entrance to the nave.
The priests looked down the path with quizzical expressions.
There stood the mixing girls in their short sleeves and with husks of wheat clinging to their arms.
"Father, do you ever wonder how the wheat from far away that ends up as your wafers gets to this town and goes into the oven?"
"Wheat...What?"
The priests, with their pale skin hardly ever touched by the sun and their thin, delicate fingers, as well as the well-dressed, intellectual young priest, of course, were all flustered. They had likely been learning Church law ever since they were children, so they had rarely ever come into contact with wider society.
"The grains are cut, stuffed into bags, carried by cart, packed into ships, and taken on a long, long road. But there are the unseen who fill in the gaps of that series of processes. Those are these girls. If these girls did not come diligently to mix the wheat every morning and night once it is stuffed into bags and put away in the warehouses, it would soon grow moldy, and disease would creep into the bread we eat every day."
When the governor-general gave his message, the mixing girls all elegantly bowed. Such polite etiquette shone brilliantly against the worn-out clothing they wore.
"Father." The governor-general stepped forward and kneeled before the priests.
His act, resembling a noble confessing his faith, looked like it belonged in a play at a festival.
"We certainly are greedy merchants. That is something I cannot deny. But these women are different. They support the livelihood of the people of this town from places unseen, and I believe they are the very ones who should be bathed in the light of God."
"Er...um...?"
The priest gave a confused nod and turned to look at the women.
They were all grasping the Church crests before their chests. Their gazes were trained downward and they looked so devout, their actions stirring up sympathy to anyone watching.
"B-but, but so? I understand who they are, but how are they related to you? You...deal with herring eggs, right? Do they not mix wheat?"
When the priest asked, the eyes of the great merchant who was the governor-general glinted.
"Wheat is a seasonal item, which means there are times of the year in which they are not mixing wheat. Once they've delivered the wheat for winter sowing, do you know what they will be mixing instead?"
"Huh? N-no..."
The governor-general then said, "Herring eggs."
That was the reason why Holo asked for Lawrence's help after catching wind of the problem from the other girls. At the herring egg exchange, there were merchants who watched the bets until the very end, separate from the merchants who took part in it. It was because of these merchants, who collected the herring eggs, that the fishermen brought the herring to this town. And much like wheat, herring eggs could not simply sit in barrels and be okay.
Many merchants did not know that, and of course there was no way for the clergy to know that, since they had never eaten herring eggs before, which was why they so easily said they were going to close the exchange.
"There are two kinds of exchanges when it comes to herring eggs. That is simply because there are two kinds of herring eggs that are being dealt with."
"O-oh?"
"First, the dried eggs. Sunny days are necessary to dry them, and the girls work hard every day to do just that as well as mixing and managing them—and that is why they never spoil."
"O-oh..."

Output:
The priest had nothing to interject against the governor-general's fluid speech.
Then Lawrence, just as he had done in their meeting beforehand, made a slight signal with his hand.
One of the mixing girls who received his signal promptly dropped to her knees.
"If you pity us, then please lend us your hand so that the herring may find their way here to this town in the future..."
After her emotional plea, the rest of the girls kneeled on the spot, and they all chanted in chorus.
""Please have mercy on us...""
With the unfortunate girls pleading before them, the priests, who had turned the exchange into a scapegoat for the sake of asceticism and fairness, were at a loss for words. Without the exchange, all the transactions surrounding herring would also vanish from the town. Namely, it would be taking away the women's livelihood.
But when Lawrence estimated that the hardheaded young priest would say, What is evil is evil, Lawrence leaned over and whispered to him.
"Father, a lake looks like it has clear water because all the dirt has thickly accumulated at the bottom."
"Wh—?"
"They say that clear water will not breed fish."
The governor-general whispered into his other ear.
"Again, we vow to offer meals to the poor...day workers like the mixing girls, for example; to redo the inside; and to turn the exchange into a place where we will never forget our faith. Of course"—the governor-general puffed out his chest—"we have heard your scolding, Father, and have awoken to our faiths. Proof of your skill as a priest will live on in the exchange for generations to come."
One could not save up money in heaven, but one could save up one's virtues. So even if they did not take a monetary bribe, a different sort of potion should be able to work on the priests—that was the plan that Lawrence had come up with.
But the priest's mouth was pursed tightly shut and his face tense, wondering if there was something wrong about this. Perhaps he was being tricked by the merchants' eloquence.
Just to make doubly sure, the governor-general pulled out a single piece of paper from his breast pocket and showed it to the priest.
"This is what we are planning on changing the inside to look like, by the way. We are hoping to have the figure standing here be you, Father."
The priest's eyes widened, and he almost unconsciously turned to look behind him.
What he was looking at were men, ropes wrapped around their bodies and suspended from the ceiling, trying to hang up a painting.
There was a sketch of a painting on the paper that the governor-general produced.
It was a very stereotypical religious image, like the painting of Col and Myuri that the church was planning on putting up.
There was a mountain of herring in the background, with the merchants and the mixing girls piously on their knees, praying. It was none other than the young priest who was leading the men and women on a path to heaven.
The governor-general calling the young priest the Twilight Archbishop was the correct indication.
Lawrence knew that well, since he had cared for Col since he was a child.
This young man was clearly trying to copy Col.
"What do you think, Father?"
The young priest snapped back to reality.
"Oh, uh...um..."
The young priest, now floundering, looked to the older priests for their judgment, but they had been taken up by other merchants discussing this and that. No one outclassed greedy merchants when it came to sweet-talking priests.
"Father?"
The governor-general asked a second time, and the young priest's eyes darted from him to Lawrence and to the mixing girls.
And finally, he painfully closed his eyes.
"...I...understand...I will retract my orders. The exchange will remain open..."
When he said that, the mixing girls rejoiced more than anyone else; they stood and cheered.
The priest still seemed somewhat perplexed, but he could not take it back now.
And it was clear that his gaze was glued to the draft of the picture.
"B-by the way..."
"Yes?"


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
The priest had nothing to interject against the governor-general's fluid speech.
Then Lawrence, just as he had done in their meeting beforehand, made a slight signal with his hand.
One of the mixing girls who received his signal promptly dropped to her knees.
"If you pity us, then please lend us your hand so that the herring may find their way here to this town in the future..."
After her emotional plea, the rest of the girls kneeled on the spot, and they all chanted in chorus.
""Please have mercy on us...""
With the unfortunate girls pleading before them, the priests, who had turned the exchange into a scapegoat for the sake of asceticism and fairness, were at a loss for words. Without the exchange, all the transactions surrounding herring would also vanish from the town. Namely, it would be taking away the women's livelihood.
But when Lawrence estimated that the hardheaded young priest would say, What is evil is evil, Lawrence leaned over and whispered to him.
"Father, a lake looks like it has clear water because all the dirt has thickly accumulated at the bottom."
"Wh—?"
"They say that clear water will not breed fish."
The governor-general whispered into his other ear.
"Again, we vow to offer meals to the poor...day workers like the mixing girls, for example; to redo the inside; and to turn the exchange into a place where we will never forget our faith. Of course"—the governor-general puffed out his chest—"we have heard your scolding, Father, and have awoken to our faiths. Proof of your skill as a priest will live on in the exchange for generations to come."
One could not save up money in heaven, but one could save up one's virtues. So even if they did not take a monetary bribe, a different sort of potion should be able to work on the priests—that was the plan that Lawrence had come up with.
But the priest's mouth was pursed tightly shut and his face tense, wondering if there was something wrong about this. Perhaps he was being tricked by the merchants' eloquence.
Just to make doubly sure, the governor-general pulled out a single piece of paper from his breast pocket and showed it to the priest.
"This is what we are planning on changing the inside to look like, by the way. We are hoping to have the figure standing here be you, Father."
The priest's eyes widened, and he almost unconsciously turned to look behind him.
What he was looking at were men, ropes wrapped around their bodies and suspended from the ceiling, trying to hang up a painting.
There was a sketch of a painting on the paper that the governor-general produced.
It was a very stereotypical religious image, like the painting of Col and Myuri that the church was planning on putting up.
There was a mountain of herring in the background, with the merchants and the mixing girls piously on their knees, praying. It was none other than the young priest who was leading the men and women on a path to heaven.
The governor-general calling the young priest the Twilight Archbishop was the correct indication.
Lawrence knew that well, since he had cared for Col since he was a child.
This young man was clearly trying to copy Col.
"What do you think, Father?"
The young priest snapped back to reality.
"Oh, uh...um..."
The young priest, now floundering, looked to the older priests for their judgment, but they had been taken up by other merchants discussing this and that. No one outclassed greedy merchants when it came to sweet-talking priests.
"Father?"
The governor-general asked a second time, and the young priest's eyes darted from him to Lawrence and to the mixing girls.
And finally, he painfully closed his eyes.
"...I...understand...I will retract my orders. The exchange will remain open..."
When he said that, the mixing girls rejoiced more than anyone else; they stood and cheered.
The priest still seemed somewhat perplexed, but he could not take it back now.
And it was clear that his gaze was glued to the draft of the picture.
"B-by the way..."
"Yes?"

Output:
"Will it obviously be me?"
It was hard to live a life entirely devoid of desire.
That was why Lawrence and merchants like him existed in this world.
"Of course."
When the governor-general said that, he pulled the young priest into a detailed chat about the picture. It looked exactly like a snake catching a mouse, but Lawrence decided not to let that bother him.
It seemed like things had reached a settlement, so he gave a tired sigh of relief and made his way toward the entrance of the nave.
Both young and old, all the mixing girls held one another's hands in joy.
Then the dancing girl, having noticed Lawrence, slipped to the front with an alluring carriage and embraced Lawrence in a fully theatrical manner.
"Oh, master!"
When the familiar dancing girl hugged him, Lawrence smiled wryly.
Of course, since the dancing girl danced in Nyohhira, she knew plenty about Spice and Wolf.
She quickly let go and pulled him toward his real owner.
"Why do you look so embarrassed?"
Holo stood before him and said exactly what she had promised she would say.
The mixing girls around them seemed to be enjoying it.
"The money I bet is coming back. Of course I'm embarrassed."
When Lawrence said that, Holo lifted the hem of her skirt and kicked Lawrence's legs.
It was a stock interaction between a strong-willed wife and a weak-willed husband that one often saw in street performances.
Lawrence smiled bitterly in response to the chuckling mixing girls, then took Holo and the dancing girl from the nave and to the aisle.
"But you really helped us out. Letting you write the outline for the whole show created something fantastic."
Even though she had blended in completely with the other mixing girls not too long ago, her rustic clothes seemed just like a costume. She was a top-tier dancer, which likely meant she was also a fantastic actress. High-class guests gathered at Nyohhira, so competition was fierce.
"It's nothing. I've had to entertain plenty of the stiff type like that in Nyohhira. Line delivery and favorable actions are my forte."
Unlike Holo, the dancing girl gave a sensual smile.
The dancing girl had taken on the governor-general's lines, his behavior, as well as directing how the mixing girls should act, especially since they did not know how to pray at a church.
Just as wheat passed through the hands of many on its way from the fields to the table, this turnabout drama was also the result of the help of many.
"And you will introduce me to that bearded merchant, right? He seems to have quite the assets."
"Yes, of course."
And the dancing girl asked for a price herself. It was a transaction of a good merchant.
"I need to have him buy me ermine fur before I start work in the winter."
When she said that, her profile looked like that of a hunter.
As Lawrence wore a taut smile, there was a tug on his sleeve.
"Dear."
Holo, who was wearing a triangular headkerchief and had her sleeves rolled up to work as a mixing girl, looked exactly like a local working woman. The image of her like this was so fresh, he found himself falling for her a little again.
"I am a bit peckish."
The dancing girl got the message, gave a small smile, and then returned to the nave in order to rejoin the other mixing girls.
Lawrence gave a small sigh, took Holo's hand, and left the church as everyone was hurriedly working for the event tomorrow.
"Honestly, I swear, perhaps we have cleaned up a bit of Myuri and little Col's mess now," Holo said, stretching out both her arms as though her shoulders were stiff, perhaps because she had been acting as a pure and faithful mixing girl.
"I didn't end up losing the money I bet, so things are all settled," Lawrence responded, squinting at the bright morning townscape before him.
"You never change...is what I would say, but 'twas what helped us this time."
"I guess," Lawrence responded and smiled.
An odd silence then fell between them.


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
"Will it obviously be me?"
It was hard to live a life entirely devoid of desire.
That was why Lawrence and merchants like him existed in this world.
"Of course."
When the governor-general said that, he pulled the young priest into a detailed chat about the picture. It looked exactly like a snake catching a mouse, but Lawrence decided not to let that bother him.
It seemed like things had reached a settlement, so he gave a tired sigh of relief and made his way toward the entrance of the nave.
Both young and old, all the mixing girls held one another's hands in joy.
Then the dancing girl, having noticed Lawrence, slipped to the front with an alluring carriage and embraced Lawrence in a fully theatrical manner.
"Oh, master!"
When the familiar dancing girl hugged him, Lawrence smiled wryly.
Of course, since the dancing girl danced in Nyohhira, she knew plenty about Spice and Wolf.
She quickly let go and pulled him toward his real owner.
"Why do you look so embarrassed?"
Holo stood before him and said exactly what she had promised she would say.
The mixing girls around them seemed to be enjoying it.
"The money I bet is coming back. Of course I'm embarrassed."
When Lawrence said that, Holo lifted the hem of her skirt and kicked Lawrence's legs.
It was a stock interaction between a strong-willed wife and a weak-willed husband that one often saw in street performances.
Lawrence smiled bitterly in response to the chuckling mixing girls, then took Holo and the dancing girl from the nave and to the aisle.
"But you really helped us out. Letting you write the outline for the whole show created something fantastic."
Even though she had blended in completely with the other mixing girls not too long ago, her rustic clothes seemed just like a costume. She was a top-tier dancer, which likely meant she was also a fantastic actress. High-class guests gathered at Nyohhira, so competition was fierce.
"It's nothing. I've had to entertain plenty of the stiff type like that in Nyohhira. Line delivery and favorable actions are my forte."
Unlike Holo, the dancing girl gave a sensual smile.
The dancing girl had taken on the governor-general's lines, his behavior, as well as directing how the mixing girls should act, especially since they did not know how to pray at a church.
Just as wheat passed through the hands of many on its way from the fields to the table, this turnabout drama was also the result of the help of many.
"And you will introduce me to that bearded merchant, right? He seems to have quite the assets."
"Yes, of course."
And the dancing girl asked for a price herself. It was a transaction of a good merchant.
"I need to have him buy me ermine fur before I start work in the winter."
When she said that, her profile looked like that of a hunter.
As Lawrence wore a taut smile, there was a tug on his sleeve.
"Dear."
Holo, who was wearing a triangular headkerchief and had her sleeves rolled up to work as a mixing girl, looked exactly like a local working woman. The image of her like this was so fresh, he found himself falling for her a little again.
"I am a bit peckish."
The dancing girl got the message, gave a small smile, and then returned to the nave in order to rejoin the other mixing girls.
Lawrence gave a small sigh, took Holo's hand, and left the church as everyone was hurriedly working for the event tomorrow.
"Honestly, I swear, perhaps we have cleaned up a bit of Myuri and little Col's mess now," Holo said, stretching out both her arms as though her shoulders were stiff, perhaps because she had been acting as a pure and faithful mixing girl.
"I didn't end up losing the money I bet, so things are all settled," Lawrence responded, squinting at the bright morning townscape before him.
"You never change...is what I would say, but 'twas what helped us this time."
"I guess," Lawrence responded and smiled.
An odd silence then fell between them.

Output:
But he found it cute when she was like this, so he pretended not to notice.
"Then should we grab a drink somewhere and head back to the room?" he proposed deliberately, and Holo's head snapped up, as though she was returning to reality, and she gave a vague response of acknowledgment.
Lawrence stared at her and could not help but grin; Holo immediately widened her eyes.
"You are truly wicked!"
"Ha-ha, I don't want to hear that from you."
Lawrence laughed, and Holo violently smacked him on the arm.
She then grabbed his wrist and said, "And? What is it?"
She might get honestly angry with him if he teased her too much.
He obediently replied.
"They're going to use you as a reference in the picture they're painting for the exchange."
Holo's eyes widened, and her ears piqued, almost lifting up her headkerchief.
"I want you to praise my brainpower, since I was the one who suggested remodeling the exchange on a quick decision."
He could not order a painting with his own money, but he could with others'.
There were plenty of massively rich people at that exchange who Lawrence barely held a candle to.
"And they said they'll put me at the front of the praying merchants."
When he said that, Holo stared at him blankly and almost missed a step on the stone staircase.
Lawrence hurriedly held her up before wrapping his arm around her back, tightening his arm as he spoke.
"They say that paintings painted with stucco will last for a hundred years. No matter how much time passes, if you come here in the future, you—"
Lawrence decided not to say the rest.
When Holo next came alone to this town to see the painting, Lawrence would not be alive.
There was no need to say that.
Instead, he said this:
"So, well, if there are any requests you want to make, now's your chance."
"...Sniff...O-oh?"
When Holo lifted her head, her eyes brimming with tears either from joy that they would both live on forever in a painting or perhaps because she thought about parting with Lawrence, he grinned at her.
"Like if you want your boobs to be bigger than Myuri's picture."
Holo, astonished, changed her expression in an instant like a magician and grabbed at Lawrence's beard.
"You fool!"
Holo yelled out loud in front of the church as people came and went. Many immediately turned to stare at them, but when they saw a girl obviously dressed as a mixing girl arguing with an unpolished-looking merchant, it was a common sight for them. It was just a regular lovers' quarrel—everyone returned to their work and their business.
Lawrence waited until they all looked away before turning back to the huffy Holo.
"I'm going to have them paint me a little younger, actually," he responded, rubbing his beard after Holo had tugged on it.
Holo twisted a brow in annoyance, moved her mouth reproachfully as though she was calling him an idiot, but she said nothing in the end.
She instead gave a tired sigh and took Lawrence's hand.
"You will be like that until you die, I see."
It was unclear if she was complimenting him or not, so Lawrence had no choice but to answer so:
"You're telling me that?"
"Hmph. I am like a stone that has traveled down a long river; I can get no rounder or smoother than I already am. There is nothing to fix here."
"But you've found yourself in plenty of trouble clinging to food for that."
"Pardon? You have no right to say that to me. You have gone to gambling again and hid it from me!"
"But it all turned out okay in the end, didn't it? What's so bad about that?"
"You fool, 'tis only because I was working as a mixing girl. Without me, you—"
Just as Holo was about to argue vehemently, Lawrence leaned over her and lifted her up on her side as though she was his new bride.
"Oh, right. Without you, I'd be dead in a ditch somewhere right about now, and I'd never want to travel alone ever again."
Holo's red eyes widened and stared at Lawrence.
And then, slowly, her expression softened.
"Fool."
They were right in front of the church.


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
But he found it cute when she was like this, so he pretended not to notice.
"Then should we grab a drink somewhere and head back to the room?" he proposed deliberately, and Holo's head snapped up, as though she was returning to reality, and she gave a vague response of acknowledgment.
Lawrence stared at her and could not help but grin; Holo immediately widened her eyes.
"You are truly wicked!"
"Ha-ha, I don't want to hear that from you."
Lawrence laughed, and Holo violently smacked him on the arm.
She then grabbed his wrist and said, "And? What is it?"
She might get honestly angry with him if he teased her too much.
He obediently replied.
"They're going to use you as a reference in the picture they're painting for the exchange."
Holo's eyes widened, and her ears piqued, almost lifting up her headkerchief.
"I want you to praise my brainpower, since I was the one who suggested remodeling the exchange on a quick decision."
He could not order a painting with his own money, but he could with others'.
There were plenty of massively rich people at that exchange who Lawrence barely held a candle to.
"And they said they'll put me at the front of the praying merchants."
When he said that, Holo stared at him blankly and almost missed a step on the stone staircase.
Lawrence hurriedly held her up before wrapping his arm around her back, tightening his arm as he spoke.
"They say that paintings painted with stucco will last for a hundred years. No matter how much time passes, if you come here in the future, you—"
Lawrence decided not to say the rest.
When Holo next came alone to this town to see the painting, Lawrence would not be alive.
There was no need to say that.
Instead, he said this:
"So, well, if there are any requests you want to make, now's your chance."
"...Sniff...O-oh?"
When Holo lifted her head, her eyes brimming with tears either from joy that they would both live on forever in a painting or perhaps because she thought about parting with Lawrence, he grinned at her.
"Like if you want your boobs to be bigger than Myuri's picture."
Holo, astonished, changed her expression in an instant like a magician and grabbed at Lawrence's beard.
"You fool!"
Holo yelled out loud in front of the church as people came and went. Many immediately turned to stare at them, but when they saw a girl obviously dressed as a mixing girl arguing with an unpolished-looking merchant, it was a common sight for them. It was just a regular lovers' quarrel—everyone returned to their work and their business.
Lawrence waited until they all looked away before turning back to the huffy Holo.
"I'm going to have them paint me a little younger, actually," he responded, rubbing his beard after Holo had tugged on it.
Holo twisted a brow in annoyance, moved her mouth reproachfully as though she was calling him an idiot, but she said nothing in the end.
She instead gave a tired sigh and took Lawrence's hand.
"You will be like that until you die, I see."
It was unclear if she was complimenting him or not, so Lawrence had no choice but to answer so:
"You're telling me that?"
"Hmph. I am like a stone that has traveled down a long river; I can get no rounder or smoother than I already am. There is nothing to fix here."
"But you've found yourself in plenty of trouble clinging to food for that."
"Pardon? You have no right to say that to me. You have gone to gambling again and hid it from me!"
"But it all turned out okay in the end, didn't it? What's so bad about that?"
"You fool, 'tis only because I was working as a mixing girl. Without me, you—"
Just as Holo was about to argue vehemently, Lawrence leaned over her and lifted her up on her side as though she was his new bride.
"Oh, right. Without you, I'd be dead in a ditch somewhere right about now, and I'd never want to travel alone ever again."
Holo's red eyes widened and stared at Lawrence.
And then, slowly, her expression softened.
"Fool."
They were right in front of the church.

Output:
"Oh, 'tis noon. I would like meat for lunch."
Holo immediately returned to her normal self and said that.
"...What happened to my innocent bride?"
When Lawrence asked, Holo shrugged and motioned for him to put her down.
Even though he had lifted her up, fully acting like they were just married, Lawrence was disappointed at Holo's cold response, but he still put her down without much choice.
She cracked her neck, as though her shoulders were stiff, and then smiled at him dauntlessly.
"I was just hoping for a feast that rivals a wedding celebration."
The nightmares he had of budgeting when they exchanged their vows came back to haunt him.
He thought about how he was human, and she was a wolf.
It was clear who was in charge here.
"Two silvers, max."
When Lawrence said that, Holo leaped to cling to his arm like a frivolous girl.
"No need to be so stingy. Your bets always go well in the end, do they not? Oh, is that why you brought up sardines before?"
Holo the Wisewolf was so sharp when it came to things like that.
"...Three silvers."
"Five."
She did not show any hint of willingness to compromise.
But her tail was flicking back and forth happily.
Lawrence looked up to the sun and sighed.
"Fine, five."
"Mmm!"
Holo responded with gusto and stretched.
"'Tis why you are my favorite, dearest."
She then kissed him on the cheek. It was pleasant, but that cost him five silver.
All he could do was laugh it off as a bad bargain.
"I'm drinking, too. That's five for both."
"I'm sorry? You may drink with your payment."
"Come on..."
As they conversed, Lawrence and Holo disappeared into the crowd. No matter how they were jostled about by the throng of people or how they hurled insults at each other, they still held on tightly to each other's hands.
Their long-awaited journey had just begun.
That was an episode in a port town, under a clear sky and cool winds but with still a hint of summer left.
***
This is a story of when two beautiful wolves still lived deep in the steam-filled mountains of Nyohhira...
It was early spring, where the daytime was rather warm but the nighttime was still very cool.
All the bathhouses in the northern hot spring village of Nyohhira were relaxing—all their winter guests had gone home.
But there was one bathhouse that stood rather deep in the mountains that had its lights on quite late into the night.
There were many people squeezed in the great hall of Spice and Wolf. There were rather well-dressed merchants, as well as aging men who looked like monks at first glance. There was even a slew of beast-like mercenaries, scars decorating their cheeks—even in a place like Nyohhira, where all sorts of travelers gathered, it was still a diverse roster of people. What these people, hailing from different standings and walks of life, had in common was that they were easily relaxing together. They had spent the day soaking in the baths until the sun went down and were now sipping on wine to cool themselves off.
However, what they were enjoying was not only the alcohol.
They had gathered in that bathhouse that day in order to pass on their words of congratulations.
"If I may be so bold."
All the guests lazing about in the great hall turned to look at the owner of the bathhouse, Lawrence. He had made his way up in the world as a traveling merchant, and this would be the start of his tenth year since opening the bathhouse. His demeanor had entirely transformed into that of a bathhouse master.
Following Lawrence into the center of the hall was Luward, who was like a beast with his close-cropped hair.
Luward was the leader of a valiant mercenary company that everyone in the northlands knew; he unwrapped a scarlet cloth that sat on his hands, and something small sat delicately in the middle.
He was the type to stand by his own opinion, even if he came face-to-face with God, but he knelt before Lawrence, who stood in front of the hearth, and held out both hands.
"...I am humbled."