Those who have never suffered from hemorrhoids will never understand the pain of defecation—just as no one understands the anxiety caused by unrest in Amellia better than Emperor Gephra.
After his initial rage, the Emperor had calmed down, sitting in his vast study, contemplating the Defense Minister’s proposal. He no longer resisted it as strongly.
He could tolerate the Federation defeating his invincible navy in a sea battle; they were merely petty villains who used underhanded tactics to steal the outcome.
He could afford to laugh for a while, confident that once Gephra’s submarines and anti-submarine technology were perfected, the seas would remain Gephra’s domain.
But stability in Amellia could not be ignored. That region would be the key to breaking the stalemate.
Ten or twelve years from now, a new war would engulf the world again. Only a stable Amellia could support Gephra’s invincible fleet and his lofty ambitions.
Still, he could not agree too easily. If he appeared to accept too readily, it would suggest he and Gephra had no alternatives. The vile Federation scoundrels would exploit this for more demands.
He needed to coordinate with his ministers in a performance—letting them persuade him gradually, showing reluctance, agreeing unwillingly, and always appearing ready to change his mind.
Only then would the Federation understand that it was not him begging for help, but that his ministers had been convinced by their sincerity.
Though anxious and worried inside, he knew this was not the time to show it.
While the Emperor pondered how to use the Federation to resolve Amellia, Mr. Herbes was entertaining friends in Nagaryll.
International bankers had many acquaintances, most of whom were also international bankers. Calling them bankers was only partly accurate—they were more like financial firms handling large-scale business, essentially the same kind of business as the Fox family, but with larger capital and higher profit demands.
“This place reeks, Herbes!” complained the last guest to arrive. “Do these damned people never bathe? I can guess where this smell comes from. My god, how do they tolerate it?”
He looked at Herbes and the others, shocked. “Don’t you find it foul? Or is my nose broken since I stepped off the ship?”
Herbes handed him a drink and gently soothed him. “Someone told me our brains can filter out odors we dislike—but it takes time, you know?”
“See, I and others have blocked out the smell. We don’t notice it anymore. You just need time. Relax, it’s not so bad!”
The guest took a sip; the alcohol cleared his mouth, making him feel somewhat better. “I’m not going to get used to this stench. When you finish, I’m leaving immediately!”
“That’s your right…” Herbes returned to his seat. “I’ve gathered you all because I have a huge deal I can’t handle alone and hope you can help.”
At the mention of business, the bankers focused on Herbes.
Postwar reconstruction and the Federation’s financial turmoil had left much capital without a place to go.
Some chose projects with long payback periods and low returns. Others had money flowing with nowhere good to invest.
These bankers, used to making huge gains in days or weeks, looked down on reconstruction projects because they took too long.
Real banks liked those projects—they sought stable returns and didn’t mind long durations. For them, longer was better.
But international bankers like Herbes dealt mainly in short-term capital flows—loans, currency exchange—quick money with less risk. They struggled to focus on construction investments.
That Herbes could gather everyone meant the project was substantial—like a rainstorm hitting the long-dry Nagaryll plains, animals rushing out to feast.
No interruptions came as Herbes spoke on. “You may have heard the name Lynch. The development rights to this province beneath us belong to Lynch’s Blackstone Group. He holds authority here.”
At this, someone interjected, “Wait, Herbes, you know we’re not interested in investing in construction. If you’re trying to get us to fund Lynch or his projects, I don’t think it’s wise.”
Herbes showed no displeasure. Calmly, he listened, nodded, and smiled warmly, approachable. “I haven’t finished. If you hear me out, you won’t think that way.”
“…Sorry, please continue.”
He nodded and went on, “Recently, Lynch spoke with me. We know the Federation’s development here involves hiring many local workers—that’s part of their diplomatic agreement with the local government.”
“They need massive quantities of Valier currency monthly to pay these workers. The Federation merchants consume much Valier, distributing it to ordinary people.”
“So Lynch asked to borrow some Valier from me for certain operations.”
“Borrow?” another interrupted, “Forgive my rudeness, Herbes, if they need Valier to pay workers, we can exchange it. Why borrow?”
Herbes expected the interruption. He introduced these points to provoke questions and keep the conversation flowing. “That’s the real project I want to discuss.”
“Lynch believes Valier will rise somewhat on the foreign exchange market soon. The Federation’s development will drive rapid growth in Nagaryll’s industries, which boasts some of the world’s cheapest labor.”
“In other words, with sufficient infrastructure, they can unleash incredible productivity, raising Nagaryll’s national strength, which will reflect in Valier’s exchange rate.”
“I’ve observed Valier steadily appreciating recently, so Lynch wants to boost Valier’s value further. His demand is large—not just for paying workers, if you catch my meaning.”
Everyone understood now: currency speculation. Due to international politics, Valier will rise. If an individual or group suddenly absorbs large amounts of Valier, circulating cash reduces, causing a cash shortage in Nagaryll-related regions.
Currency is a commodity reflecting purchasing power. It obeys supply, demand, and market forces. Less circulating Valier combined with positive prospects will push its price up.
Moreover, Valier’s appreciation suits Nagaryll’s full-scale development, helping save costs on imports.
Hearing this, the bankers’ interest stirred. One asked, “Sounds reasonable. Since Valier will rise, why does Lynch want to
borrow
rather than
exchange
?”
Others shared the doubt. If Valier is set to rise, exchanging now is more profitable.
For example, 100 Federation Sols could buy 10,000 Valier. If the exchange rate settles at 1:80, then it costs only 8,000 Valier to buy back the original 100 Sols, earning 2,000 Valier profit.
But borrowing means paying back.
If Lynch borrows Valier and repays with another currency, and interest is lower than Valier’s rise, why give up profits?
If Lynch borrows and repays Valier plus interest, does he have too much money?
Unless Valier’s price stays stable—its value when borrowed equals that when repaid—only then would he not be a fool.
But would Lynch be a fool?
Reading Settings
#1a1a1a
#ef4444
Comments