Ernest spent almost a week recovering from his fever in his bedroom. Occasionally, his mother, Anna, would bring him his breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

Although it was three meals per day, it was not satisfying for his tastebud as the taste of the food in this era was bland.

Painfully bland.

It was simply how food was in this world.

Thin vegetable soup.

Dark bread that felt more like hardened dough than actual bread.

Occasionally dried fish if they were lucky enough to afford some from the market.

Very little seasoning.

Very little oil.

And almost no meat.

As someone who grew up in the 21st century surrounded by modern food culture, it honestly felt depressing.

Even simple street food back on Earth would probably shock people in this world.

Ernest sat near the small wooden table inside his room while slowly chewing a piece of bread. The texture alone almost made him sigh.

"This thing could probably be used as a weapon," he muttered quietly.

Still, he forced himself to eat.

No matter how terrible the food tasted, this body needed nutrition badly.

Over the past week, he had slowly regained some strength. He could now walk around the house without collapsing, though his body still felt noticeably weaker than what he remembered from his previous life.

Not surprising.

The original Ernest suffered from malnutrition for years.

Even now, when Ernest lifted his shirt slightly, he could still clearly see his ribs.

"This kid was seriously starving..."

He quietly lowered his shirt again.

During the past week, he mostly stayed inside his room recovering while organizing the inherited memories inside his head.

And honestly, the more he learned about this world, the more shocked he became.

The Kingdom of Belfast was massive.

At least massive by medieval standards.

It had multiple major cities, noble territories, farming villages, riverside ports, and trade routes connected to neighboring kingdoms.

But technologically?

It was horribly behind.

Blacksmithing remained the backbone of manufacturing.

Most labor was manual and slaves exist.

Agriculture was the main source of income for exports.

Transportation depended entirely on horses and wooden carts.

Even simple concepts like standardized machine production did not exist.

To Ernest, it looked like a world stuck before the Industrial Revolution.’

And because of that, his engineering brain never stopped working.

Every time he saw something inefficient, ideas immediately formed in his head, he couldn’t just stop it.

As for his father, well, his father won’t even visit him. He recalled in the memories of the original Ernest that the father was always in a bad mood, not because he was cruel.

At least, not entirely.

The inherited memories made that much clear to Ernest.

His father, Victor Teucher, used to be different years ago.

Before the smallpox.

Before the deaths.

Back then, according to the fragmented memories, the house used to be louder.

There were more children.

More laughter.

Even if they were poor, the family still had moments where they smiled together.

Then the sickness came.

One after another, Ernest’s siblings died.

The original Ernest remembered coughing.

Fever.

The smell of medicine herbs.

His mother crying quietly at night.

And his father?

His father slowly changed afterward.

He became quieter.

More irritable.

More distant.

It was not uncommon for him to come home from the forge exhausted, eat dinner in silence, then immediately sleep afterward.

The original Ernest rarely even spoke to him.

At first, Ernest thought Victor simply hated his family.

But after inheriting the memories, he realized it was more complicated than that.

The man was broken.

Poverty already crushed people slowly by itself.

Losing multiple children on top of that?

It probably destroyed whatever remained of his spirit.

Ernest quietly leaned back against the chair while staring at the wooden ceiling.

Honestly, he could not even fully blame the man.

This world was brutal, there were no modern medicines.

A simple disease could wipe out entire families.

Back on Earth, smallpox had long been eradicated through modern medicine and vaccination programs. Here, however, it remained a death sentence for commoners and nobles alike.

As he was alone in his thoughts, his mother, Anna, stepped in.

"Ernest, I will go to the market, do you want to come?"

Hearing that invitation, Ernest’s eyes lit up. Finally, he’ll be able to get out of this bedroom and finally see what’s outside of their home. Because he couldn’t just rely on the memories.

"Yes please!" Ernest replied giddily.

"Okay, you look so enthusiastic, I have already prepared a bath for you so you should clean yourself first," Anna continued with a small smile.

Ernest immediately nodded.

Honestly, he wanted a bath badly.

This body constantly felt sticky no matter how much he rested. Weeks of sickness combined with the lack of proper hygiene in this world made him feel uncomfortable almost all the time.

"Where’s the bathroom?" he asked instinctively before stopping himself.

Right.

The original Ernest should already know that.

Anna gave him a slightly strange look but still answered.

"It’s outside near the back."

Ernest awkwardly scratched his cheek.

"Ah... right."

Anna simply shook her head lightly.

"That fever really messed with your head."

A few minutes later, Ernest stepped outside the house for the first time since waking up in this world.

Cold air immediately brushed against his skin.

His eyes wandered around carefully.

The house sat among a crowded row of small homes packed tightly together. Most were made of wood and stone with roofs that looked worn down by years of rain and weather.

Narrow dirt pathways connected the homes.

People walked around carrying baskets, buckets, and firewood manually.

No plumbing, no drainage systems, no electricity poles.

Anna pointed toward a small wooden structure behind the house.

"The bathwater is inside."

Ernest nodded and walked toward it.

The "bathroom" turned out to be little more than a cramped wooden enclosure.

At the center sat a large wooden barrel filled with water and beside it was a smaller bucket with a wooden dipper resting inside.

That was it.

Ernest stared silently for several seconds.

"...You’re kidding me."

Back on Earth, bathing meant hot showers, shampoo, soap, body wash, toothpaste, and clean towels.

Here? 𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖

It was literally just pouring water over yourself.

No soap.

No shampoo.

Nothing to actually remove odor or grime properly.

As a modern person, the entire setup almost physically hurt him.

Still, he sighed and began removing his rough clothes.

He grabbed the wooden dipper and scooped some water from the barrel.

Then poured it over his head.

"Jesus Christ!"

Ernest nearly jumped.

The water was freezing.

He quickly rubbed his wet hair while trying not to shiver.

No heating system.

Of course.

Why would there be?

Everything here was manual labor.

Heating water probably required firewood, which cost money and effort.

His family likely reserved heated water only for illness or winter emergencies.

So cold baths were normal.

Ernest sighed before continuing.

Again and again, he scooped water over himself using the dipper.

The water washed away sweat and dirt to some extent, but without soap, he still did not feel truly clean.

As an engineer, his brain automatically started analyzing the entire process.

Primitive hygiene systems.

Extremely inefficient.

Water wasted manually.

No pressurized flow systems.

No filtration.

No sewage disposal.

Honestly, from a public health perspective, this world was horrifying.

It was no wonder diseases spread so easily.

Without proper sanitation, bacteria and parasites would thrive everywhere.

And yet people here probably viewed it as normal because they had never experienced anything better.

Ernest rubbed his face tiredly.

Even something as basic as soap manufacturing could become valuable in this world.

Wait, that’s it! Soap.

His eyes blinked.

Actually, soap production was not impossible as historically, soap existed long before industrialization. It is just animal fat, lye, and ash. Of course, there is a better version where it’s also scented and refined, but even crude soap would already be revolutionary for common people here.

Ernest suddenly stopped pouring water over himself.

He scooped another dipper of freezing water over himself and exhaled sharply.

"Okay... calm down," he muttered.

He was getting ahead of himself again.

That had become a habit ever since he reincarnated here.

Every time he saw a problem, his brain immediately tried solving it.

The issue was that solutions required resources.

Soap production needed materials.

Animal fat, lye, ash, and equipment for boiling. Or more importantly, knowledge of where to acquire everything.

Right now, he barely even understood the city properly, so this trip to the market would give him insights on where to acquire materials.

And not just for soap.

The market would tell him everything about this world’s economy.

What goods were common.

What goods were expensive.

What materials were rare.

How advanced their metalworking was.

Even observing people alone would already provide useful information.

Ernest quickly finished his bath afterward before changing into cleaner clothes.

Well, "cleaner" by this world’s standards.

The rough linen shirt scratched slightly against his skin while the pants felt stiff and uncomfortable compared to modern fabrics.

When Ernest stepped out of the bath enclosure, Anna was already waiting outside with a woven basket hanging from her arm.

"There you are," she said.

Ernest nodded.

"I’m ready."

Anna looked at him carefully for a moment before smiling faintly.

"You look healthier now."

"That cold water nearly killed me again."

"Hm?"

"Nothing."

Anna shook her head lightly again, probably already used to his strange comments.

The two soon began walking toward the market district together.

As they left the narrow housing area, Ernest observed everything around him with open curiosity.

Honestly, seeing this world through his own eyes felt surreal.

Because despite the poverty and primitive conditions, the city itself was alive.

Workers carried sacks manually across the streets.

Blacksmith hammers echoed faintly from nearby workshops.

Smoke drifted upward from chimneys and furnaces.

Merchants pushed wooden carts while advertising vegetables, fish, and bread loudly.

Ernest’s engineering instincts automatically analyzed everything.

The roads were terrible, mostly compacted dirt mixed with scattered stone.

During heavy rain, these streets would probably turn into mud traps.

Drainage systems were almost nonexistent too. He could already see dirty water gathering near certain parts of the road.

From a civil engineering perspective, this city was a disaster waiting to happen. But what can you expect from a medieval city? There is an even a memory where that this is just the commoner’s district and the noble district would be more refined than this area according to the original Ernest’s memories.

Still, even if this was only the commoner district, it was already busy enough to overwhelm him.

Moments later, they arrived at the market.

The market stretched across multiple streets packed tightly with stalls and people. Rows upon rows of wooden stands filled both sides of the road while cloth canopies provided shade overhead.

There are stalls for meats, stalls for vegetables, fish, clothes, tools, pottery, candles, ropes, herbs, and even livestock.

The entire place was overflowing with noise.

Merchants shouted prices at passing customers while others aggressively advertised their products.

"Fresh fish! Caught this morning!"

"Three copper for the onions!"

"Fine wool cloth from the east!"

"Move aside! Move aside!"

A cart loaded with sacks rolled through the crowded street pulled by a tired horse while people immediately stepped away to avoid getting hit.

Honestly, Ernest almost felt sensory overload.

Not because the market was advanced.

But because it was alive in such a raw and primitive way.

There were no neon signs.

No supermarkets.

No organized storefronts.

Everything depended on direct human interaction.

You want to buy something?

You negotiate face to face.

You carry it home yourself.

You preserve it yourself.

Human labor remained the foundation of everything.

And Ernest could not stop analyzing it.

The butcher stalls immediately caught his attention first.

Large chunks of meat hung from iron hooks while butchers sliced apart carcasses using oversized cleavers.

Pork.

Chicken.

Goat.

And probably beef.

Flies buzzed openly around the meat.

No refrigeration whatsoever, or sanitary wrapping.

Back on Earth, health inspectors would probably shut this entire section down instantly.

Still, despite the primitive conditions, customers crowded around the stalls.

Meat clearly remained valuable here.

Ernest glanced toward the prices written on rough wooden boards.

His eyes widened slightly.

Expensive.

Very expensive.

No wonder his family barely ate meat.

For commoners, vegetables and bread were probably the only affordable daily food.

Protein itself was practically a luxury.

That honestly explained why this body ended up malnourished despite technically eating three meals a day.

Nearby, another section sold fish displayed on crushed ice.

Ice.

Again, Ernest noticed that.

Interesting.

So they had methods for preserving ice even without modern refrigeration.

Probably ice harvesting during winter stored underground.

Primitive cold storage.

His engineering brain immediately filed the observation away.

As they continued walking, Ernest noticed another area dedicated to tools and wares.

That immediately pulled most of his attention. Axes, hammers, nails, knives, farming equipment, buckets. Metal hinges.

He picked up one of the iron nails from a stall and inspected it carefully.

Uneven.

The shape varied slightly.

No standardized dimensions.

Which meant mass manufacturing had not been developed yet.

Every piece was manually forged one by one.

That dramatically increased labor cost and production time.

The merchant noticed Ernest staring.

"Interested, boy?"

Ernest quickly placed the nail back down.

"Just looking."

The merchant chuckled.

"Then look quickly unless you’re buying."

Anna immediately tugged him lightly by the shoulder.

"Don’t bother the merchants."

"Sorry."

This market alone confirmed something extremely important.

This world lacked industrial precision.

Which meant even simple machine-assisted production could completely dominate existing industries here. Even he could make a fortune here but of course, that won’t be easy as his family is poor so no capital.

"Ernest, I’m going to buy our food now, so stay next to me and don’t wander," Anna said.

"Yes mother," Ernest acknowledged and joined her mother for the reason why they are at the market in the first place.