Chapter 487 A Bright Future
Horace reluctantly paid the salary in "silver pounds".
When the workers received those few flimsy banknotes from the accountant, everyone stared in astonishment.
"Three, thirty... silver pounds?!"
"I'm not seeing things, am I...?"
"Elsie, did you miscalculate the accounts?"
A textile worker in his early thirties stared wide-eyed at the accountant handing him his money, as if it were all a dream and he was afraid that if he raised his voice, he would wake himself up.
But if he didn't ask some questions clearly, he worried that the fierce-looking guards would rush into the dormitory and take back the salary he had "stolen" from the boss.
"Don't worry, it's correct! I've counted everyone's money carefully!" The young man named Elsie stood up straight with a confident smile on his face, stuffing the counted banknotes into the textile worker's hand.
His straight back wasn't because he was proud of his boss, but simply because he had also received his wages, which gave him confidence.
The entire workshop was filled with an incredulous sound.
The textile workers could hardly believe that the stingy fellow had changed his ways and suddenly become so generous!
That's thirty silver pounds!
In Thunder City, where copper coins are declining, the actual purchasing power of this huge sum of money is no less than that of 5,000 Imperial copper coins!
This is practically a disguised pay raise for everyone!
And it's gone up a lot!
In the past, that guy would have settled their wages with copper coins, and he would have "gifted" the money bag to them with an extremely reluctant expression, as if he had done a great good deed and been taken advantage of.
Everyone exchanged excited expressions, discussing how to spend the money, and the whole workshop was as lively as a festival.
Horace's textile factory was usually the stingiest in the entire Thunder City industrial district, but today their Mr. Horace seemed to be ahead of all the factories once again, becoming the first philanthropist in the district to pay wages in full with "silver pounds".
At this point, some of the older employees remembered the "good deeds" this gentleman had done—such as the three-story employee dormitory that stood out in the new industrial park.
They suddenly realized that this sharp-tongued guy wasn't so bad after all.
"Perhaps...we misunderstood him." The textile worker, as if waking from a dream, looked at the banknotes in his hand and murmured this sentence softly.
After distributing the money, Elsie remained silent for a moment, a helpless expression on her face.
"To be fair, this wasn't Mr. Horace's fault to begin with. The main reason the salaries couldn't be paid was because of the King."
Everyone was stunned for a moment upon hearing this.
"The country, the king?"
"What does this have to do with the king?!"
Elsie summarized the story Horace had made up on the spot and told it to her workers in more logical terms.
"Of course there are. Merchants from the Kingdom of Ryan owe our factory a large sum of money, and Mr. Horace can't do anything about it. Do you know who's behind those merchant guilds? They're people that even our Grand Duke wouldn't dare to offend easily."
"As for our Mr. Horace, he is actually a devout follower of Saint Cecil. I always hear him talking about Saint Cecil above. How could such a devout and good person intend to harm us?"
That's not wrong.
Horace was just stingy, so stingy that he wouldn't even throw away his old coat. He had no selfish thoughts whatsoever, let alone the idea of harming others without benefiting himself.
However, the accountant clearly didn't explain things clearly. Although the King stood behind the Kingdom of Ryan's Chamber of Commerce, it didn't mean that the King was doing business with them.
However, this explanation is too difficult to understand; those who take their time even counting money prefer the simpler and more straightforward version.
King Ryan was fighting with Grand Duke Campbell, who was in a weaker position. So the king confiscated the wages that were originally going to be paid to Campbell's weavers as a warning to the duke.
The drowsy king now wears another mask of greed, and Horace's reputation has unexpectedly reversed.
Even if it's just in his textile factory.
In fact, Campbells are very simple-minded, especially those who work in factories; their minds are like blank sheets of paper.
Even if someone tells them that the sky is green and the sun is actually cold, they will believe it without question as long as that person can feed them.
In contrast to this simplicity, they didn't ask for much either; what was placed before the kings' crowns was merely a speck of dust.
The nobles craved stability, and that was a deep-seated desire within them.
All they want is a house to shelter them from the wind and rain, a loving partner to share their lives with, and one or two promising children, and then they can meet their basic needs for survival.
If you had a little extra money, you could buy your wife some new clothes, send your child to school or let them work as an apprentice in a shop, and finally have some beer to add some fun to life... that would be heavenly.
If none of these exist, having some hope for the future is still acceptable.
Earl Derek always felt they wanted a lot, but in reality, their ambitions were the smallest in this thriving duchy.
In fact, a single, casual glance from a lizardman envoy from the continent of Gana solved all their problems.
Abstractly speaking, that is indeed the case.
The remedy for their suffering was not "silver pounds" or sovereignty, but rather the conscience that Mr. Sack Windsor and Mr. Horace might possess.
The discussion continued throughout the noon break until the foremen herded them back to their workstations like cattle.
However, everyone cooperated very well this time.
It wasn't just cooperation, it was also full of enthusiasm!
The clatter of the loom had never sounded so resounding; the unwavering determination of the group even changed the expression of Horace, who happened to be passing by the workshop.
Saint Sis above—
It turns out these guys were just slacking off the whole time!
That's so mean!
...
After traversing countless mountains and rivers, the liquidity injected into the market by the Andean Bank finally reached the hands of the workers in the new industrial zone.
As Prince Colin put it, once gold coins were withdrawn from circulation, the silver standard was re-established, and injected into the market, the Campbells would soon be able to afford their own "goods" again after the repricing of assets.
This is something many colonized lands have experienced; they essentially created a sovereign currency that did not claim sovereignty.
Of course, there were things Colin didn't say.
Some pain doesn't disappear out of thin air; it simply shifts from one market to another, such as their "suzerain state."
The exchange rate between gold and silver coins, which was 1:110 at that afternoon tea, was drastically increased to 1:150 by the Andean Bank.
Moreover, this is the exchange rate between silver and pounds.
Those silver coins bearing all sorts of royal crests simply lost their market and were directly anchored to those various copper coins.
The ratio is also astonishingly 1:150, or even more exaggerated.
Smart people have already seen the problem.
If you take a so-called "inferior" Ryan silver coin from the Kingdom of Ryan and bring it to the neighboring Duchy of Campbell, you can immediately exchange it for one hundred and fifty inferior copper coins.
Of course, it would be fine to come from other parts of the empire, but the Kingdom of Ryan, with its overland trade routes, is faster here and it's easier to gather funds.
Although these copper coins might not buy much in Thunder City, a cunning merchant could easily carry these 150 copper coins back to the Kingdom of Ryan and immediately exchange them for 1.5 silver coins minted by the Kingdom of Ryan, or simply exchange them for gold coins!
A 15% profit margin is already quite substantial, but a 50% profit margin is enough to drive countless businessmen crazy!
They were even willing to transport the inferior brass and silver between the two countries without carrying any goods, fulfilling the dreams of the citizens of Thunder City.
Bad money is still money.
Moreover, strictly speaking, the king's bottom line is higher than that of an earl, and far higher than that of the countless barons and knights.
No matter how crudely made the silver coins were, they were still silver coins bearing the royal coat of arms, and were far more genuine than those randomly issued copper coins.
Therefore, when a large number of merchants poured into the Duchy of Campbell with silver coins from the Kingdom of Ryan to exchange for copper coins, the Duchy of Campbell was actually robbing the empire's silver, especially directly looting the silver of the neighboring Kingdom of Ryan!
Meanwhile, the various copper coins within the Duchy of Campbell were being imported into the Kingdom of Ryan via trade routes, and the inflation associated with those coins was being transferred into the wallets of the common people of Ryan.
The nobles of the Kingdom of Ryan will be surprised to find that their silver coins have inexplicably become extremely valuable, and their gold coins are even more expensive, just as the citizens of Thunder City have long enjoyed.
However, in contrast, apart from the "farm tools" in the fields, all the citizens from Twilight City to the capital of Ryan will quietly fall back into poverty.
This is already an act of war!
However, apart from the Demon King, no one had ever seen this thing before, so neither side in the battle realized that they had entered a state of war, nor did they realize who they were fighting.
The citizens of Thunder City, at least, got a taste of the benefits brought by the development of productivity, thanks to Archduke Edward.
The citizens of the Kingdom of Ryan didn't get any benefits at all; they just got a strange beating along with their drowsy old king.
Their copper coins would depreciate at an incredible rate. At least the Duchy of Campbell had "Edward's Bread" as a safety net, but they didn't have that.
Their king could only sigh that there was still too much grass in the pasture, as if the last fire hadn't been enough to burn it all off...
As for the empire?
The empire is too big to be felt yet.
Regardless of what the distant King Ryan is like, the weavers at Horace's Textile Mill can drink to their hearts' content today.
After receiving their wages, they kept enough for their living expenses, and a portion of the remaining money went to the taverns in the new industrial area that same day.
In the "Rusty Axe Tavern".
As the Horace textile mill workers poured in in twos and threes, the bartender behind the counter was energetically wiping glasses, while the burly waitresses moved swiftly, the sound of glasses slamming on the table like the hammer blows of a dwarf blacksmith.
Thump—!
"Hey, isn't this Horace's crew? What a rare treat!" The blacksmith at the next table slammed his glass on the table, called out to the familiar faces in the distance, and said with a laugh, "So, has that tightwad in your factory finally started spitting out coins?"
"Don't call him a miser!"
A textile worker, beaming with pride, slammed a brand-new silver pound on the bar. Though it was only worth one pound, it was enough to dazzle the eyes of everyone.
“Our beloved Mr. Horace didn’t give us a coin, he gave us this thing!”
"Holy crap..."
The blacksmith was completely stunned, almost unable to believe his eyes, his jaw agape for a long time.
The bartender behind the counter did the same; he even stopped wiping the glasses and used a cloth to wipe his glasses.
That's strange.
These poor bastards actually used silver pounds to spend money!
The bartender, who had refused to accept the banknotes a few days ago, was now hesitant about whether they were real or fake.
He pulled out a small money detector from under the counter, pretended to shine it on for a long time, and then hurriedly made change.
“That’s right…it’s the real deal! Cough, what would you three like to drink?” He didn’t really know how to tell the real from the fake, but he still subconsciously accepted this most valuable currency in Thunder City.
The textile worker didn't even look at the menu. He rolled up his sleeves, sat down, and started shouting in a show of ostentation.
"Bring out your best beer! You can give me my change after we've had our fill!"
The most expensive beer in the pub in the new industrial area is brewed from barley and served in barrels that are as tall as a person.
Even in Thunder City, where prices are soaring, you can still buy a cup for 10 Imperial Copper Coins—the kind of cup you can bury your face in!
If the bill were paid with the hardest silver pound in Thunder City, these three guys could not only drink until they vomited, but also take a pocketful of copper coins home!
As long as they drink without ordering food.
Seeing this, the other workers in the tavern all cast envious glances, wishing they were sitting there drinking to their hearts' content.
Those guys who had previously stood up for these "poor people" were speechless after seeing this scene, and could only lament that they were still too young.
The corner of the bar.
The drunkard who had previously boasted that he would wait until the Andean Bank went bankrupt and then make a fortune with the "rare silver pound" was now sighing and lamenting that his luck had run out.
Fortunately, he was just unlucky.
If he really bets correctly, it means that the Duchy of Campbell has ultimately failed, squandering its hard-won national destiny.
The drunkards sitting here will continue to produce things they can never afford, things that weren't even meant for them in the first place.
"This is unbelievable!"
Frustrated, he pulled out his "collection" from his pocket and slammed it on the table. "Bartender, give me the most expensive one!"
He didn't lose out.
He exchanged the money for borrowed copper coins, and he could easily return the 120 copper coins by spending them somewhere.
The remaining 30 belonged to him.
A cup of...
The bartender resisted the urge to roll his eyes, but still accepted the second silver pound he had received that day with a smile, and buried his head in rummaging through the change in the drawer.
Amidst the clinking of glasses and lively conversation, a brand new topic quickly became popular in the tavern—
What exactly made Horace, that miser, suddenly become so generous?
A well-informed coachman, seemingly knowing something, spoke mysteriously to the crowd who were listening intently.
"I heard from the guy who pulls the cart with me that the mysterious lizardman ambassador personally went to Horace's factory today!"
A fitter at a machine shop couldn't help but swallow.
"Then what?!"
Seeing that everyone was interested, the coachman began to describe it vividly.
"Then... the lizardman cursed, 'You humans are so evil! It's one thing to mix iron into silver coins, but you even stuff people into the spinning machines! Our Kingdom of Gutaf has no interest in blood-stained cloth; it would soil Her Majesty the Queen's scales!'"
“By Saint Sis…” The fitter couldn’t help but gasp; he had heard about the previous accident at the Horace Textile Factory.
“That’s slander! We’re not producing canned goods, Horace wouldn’t do something like that!” a textile factory worker couldn’t help but shout, but his voice was quickly drowned out by the louder noise.
"So that's how it is!"
"It was clearly Mr. Sack who pressured that miser! I don't believe he'd willingly pull out a pound from his pocket!"
This rumor instantly filled the entire tavern, and even gave rise to a legendary tale of the Dragon God's apostle leaving in a huff.
After all, those kind-hearted lizardmen were so considerate of even the insects in the southwestern swamp, how could they resist the urge to uphold justice when they saw Horace's barbaric behavior?
That makes perfect sense!
A porter excitedly lifted a freshly poured beer bottle, intending to stand on the table, but accidentally fell.
However, the shout did come out.
"Praise be to the Dragon God!"
The sound immediately resonated with countless drunkards who were numbing themselves, so much so that the tavern was filled with chaotic and excited shouts.
"Praise be to Lord Gutaf!"
"A toast to the Dragon God's generosity!"
Suppressed emotions always need an outlet. Cursing Horace, that stingy man, is one outlet, and praising Gutaph is another.
The commotion nearly blew the roof off the tavern and scared the bartender away as he was rummaging for change.
Have these idiots gone mad?!
Although the Dragon God was once an ally of Saint Sith, and Saint Sith did not deny that this goofball had contributed to defeating the God of the Underworld, it was ultimately disrespectful to sing praises of other gods so loudly.
However, he was still being overly cautious.
No devout priest would step into this filthy slum tavern after nightfall.
I've heard that vampires prefer the blood of priests to that of nuns.
What if we happen to run into one?
In this corrupt and defiled land, every priest carefully tucks his crucifix into his bosom before nightfall.
Therefore, even though this group of poor bastards made a racket until the wee hours of the morning, no one came out to criticize them or utter the classic phrase, "This is too blasphemous."
Tolerance is not the exclusive right of the wealthy.
As long as one can see where the future lies, even those who are as insignificant as dust can still be tolerant and yearn for the light.
...
Achoo—!
A loud sneeze exploded in the damp, cold air. Taff, who was crouching in Luo Yan's arms, rubbed her nose vigorously and wrapped her cloak tighter around herself unhappily.
She's been sneezing a lot lately; she's probably sick.
Sarah's arms are still the most comfortable. It's a pity that the cat was sent somewhere by that hairless monkey; I haven't seen it lately.
After being pressured to have her eggs laid by the Demon King, she began to miss Sarah's "gentle" caresses; at least that guy didn't use magic.
And there aren't that many tricks involved.
If it were the Demon King, the tricks would be endless. Using Alacto to scare people is child's play; with just a little thought, he could pull off an operation that would make the Zeta people tremble in fear.
The key is that you can have a different dish every day!
Clearly, Taff was unaware of the existence of a website called "Catastrophe Online" and assumed that the Demon King had come up with those ideas himself.
The Demon King wasn't that free; he'd be lucky to get half an hour a day, and that was only because he'd raised her to be able to fly on his back.
"Do you remember this place? The place you've been before?" Luo Yan said with a smile, in a casual tone.
The ungrateful Taf yawned and raised his head, his lazy gaze falling on the "Mud City" that rose from the ground not far away.
"Who would remember that? That happened over a thousand years ago!"
To be precise, it was something from a past life.
The once high and mighty Zeta Dragon God has been reincarnated as a meat lizard and has to rely on a "little Karami" who appeared out of nowhere to live.
Demon King?
What is that?!
When He was in power, what did the demons have to do with it?
As the saying goes, when fortune smiles, even heaven and earth lend a hand; when luck turns, even heroes are powerless.
Now, Taff, who has submitted to the Demon King, can only lament that the world is going to the dogs and people's hearts are no longer what they used to be, and no one cares about the former overlord anymore.
She glanced at this so-called swamp city.
Objectively speaking, it's not bad that they managed to build something like this in just two months using a bunch of random "primitive tools".
With the frenzied labor of players and Hellcrafters, a massive "murloc village" is beginning to take shape in the southwestern swamp.
Thousands of tall, slender stilted houses rose from the ground, built with rough but sturdy pine wood, standing densely on the murky swamp like rice paddies.
Newly compacted mud roads clearly demarcate the chaotic swamp into a neat chessboard, connecting the unfinished stilted houses and port area in the distance.
Players have repurposed the Merfolk's—or rather, the Fishman's Harbor—in preparation to build a revolutionary deep-water port in the river bend.
They have big ambitions.
After all, the Demon King used to worry about causing trouble and kept them from using their full strength. Now they can finally go all out and have a great time.
"Your servant has terrible taste."
Finally finding something to criticize, Taff made no attempt to hide her mockery, letting out a series of "pffff pffff" sounds. "These matchstick shacks are tall and ugly. And have you forgotten that lizardmen don't need moisture protection? My people love damp places!"
Whether they need it or not is not important.
Looking calmly at the bustling city, Luo Yan smiled faintly, casually silencing Taff's childish remark.
"The important thing is that I need this place."
After his integration, the lizardmen of the continent of Gana were barely presentable, but the lizardmen here were really no different from insects.
Sak Gale's assessment was accurate. The lizardmen understood the lizardmen best. If the Dragon God's people still had a spark of civilization, then the greatest value of the lizardmen here was in the trenches; they would be a bit of a stretch to send them to work in the factory.
The truth is always cruel.
Fortunately, they encountered the most decent demon king in hell, and for the time being, the demon king did not need them to sacrifice their lives; he only needed to provide cover for his players.
As for the Demon King's excessive concern, it wasn't necessarily a bad thing for the lizardmen of the southwestern swamp.
Whether the Zetas, from an advanced civilization, liked it or not, these lizardmen created by the Zetas still really liked these human houses.
They've been eyeing this for a long time.
If they weren't outmatched by the warlike Campbellians, they would have moved to Thunder City long ago.
The Ankylosaurus of the continent of Gana had already proven that while it's true that lizardmen prefer damp places, given a choice, they would certainly prefer to stand on rocks and smell the dampness of the lake.
Not far away, a group of local lizardmen were erupting in thunderous cheers.
Under the command of the gecko clan's Zelik, they were joyfully carrying pots and pans on their heads, moving out of the low mud huts where their ancestors had lived for generations and into those wooden houses.
Guided by the acolytes and indulged by the "priests" of Silverpine Town, those far removed from the Empire's sight are interpreting all of this as a miracle bestowed by the Demon King.
Ignoring the stubborn Taf for the moment, Luo Yan issued a command to his divine nature in his mind.
'Youyou, open my godhood interface.'
"Alright! Lord Demon King!" A gentle voice drifted into his ears, and the illusory panel was respectfully presented before him.
【
Godhead: Luo Yan
Legendary Factors: The Demon King of Thunder County, the Flame King south of the Ten Thousand Ren Mountains, the generous, wealthy, and benevolent Prince Colin, a commoner councilor born into the Demon God Temple, the founder of science, the divine child of the Twilight Province, and the one who spreads divine pronouncements everywhere...
Influence share: 8.2%
Overdraft limit: 0%
Domination efficiency: 100%
Seed of Myth (Demigod): 0
Seed of Legends (Grandmaster): 1
Amethyst Seed (Amethyst): 0
Seed of Diamonds (Diamond): 12
】
Looking at his influence share, which had expanded from 2 to 8, Luo Yan couldn't help but smile.
Thanks to the spread of the New Testament and scientific thought, its share of influence is growing at an accelerating pace.
As the lizard people of the continent of Gana are living better lives, their submission, which was previously forced by force, is gradually becoming genuine.
He will soon be able to condense a demigod seed.
The footprints he left along the way, and the influence he exerted, are gradually coalescing into a visible force.
Conversely, the power of the old gods is waning, and Saint Sith and the servants of the demon god should be completely bewildered at this moment.
However, they should also notice that the sparks that are igniting everywhere are gradually eroding the territory of the old era.
And it will usher the world into a new era.
It is said that demigods are the ceiling for mortals. Luo Yan thought that once he unlocked his domain, he might feel more secure.
However, after witnessing the power of that angel, he suddenly felt that being a little more cautious might not be so bad.
That order, which has been stable for thousands of years, cannot be shaken overnight...
(End of this chapter)
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