Blackstone Code-Chapter 557: Despair and Transition

What is despair?
At this moment, the old king of the Kingdom of Nagaryll felt a deep and overwhelming sense of it.
Even when Preyton had control over Nagaryll’s internal and external trade, he hadn’t felt this hopeless—because he knew Preyton was merely a businessman, only interested in making money from Nagaryll.
Preyton’s influence was limited. The common people had little to no contact with him, let alone feel the weight of his business empire.
At that time, Preyton’s presence in Nagaryll was a double-edged sword. On one hand, foreign trade and imports were dominated by outsiders. On the other, equipment the government couldn’t openly buy could be acquired through Preyton’s business network.
As long as the profits were sufficient, the man known as “Mr. Preyton” would risk anything to deliver what the rulers of Nagaryll needed.
Even when Preyton’s power crumbled and some provincial governors turned to the Federation, the old king still didn’t despair. He had long foreseen this. Some governors had always colluded with foreign merchants, been closely tied to Preyton—this was nothing new.
There was never a shortage of rulers in this land. In fact, the king preferred if all the governors pledged loyalty to the Federation and left. That way, the monarchy could expand its authority and bring the entire country under centralized rule.
He didn’t even despair when a flood of Federal businessmen entered Nagaryll. They came to make money, and no matter how they did it, they had to hire locals. That meant wages would be paid, and that money would remain in Nagaryll to improve lives and spur development.
Moreover, the treaties they signed stated that after a set number of years, all infrastructure, basic industrial equipment, and some factories would be sold back to the Nagaryll government at discounted prices.
This was one of the main reasons Nagaryll had agreed to an alliance with the Federation. They were desperate for industrialization—even if it was only a basic foundation.
With that foundation, they could slowly replicate and grow. Even if catching up to developed nations would take ages, at least they were on the right path.
The old king had never interfered too much in the cultural clashes between the foreign elements and local traditions. These were inevitable growing pains for a backward country trying to modernize.
If you’re behind, you’ll get beaten. If you want to catch up, you can’t be afraid of the pain.
Even when some governors
forced his hand
to convert their holdings into Federal Sols, or during the subsequent conflicts, he never felt hopeless. He saw it all as necessary surgery—cutting away the rot so healthy flesh could grow.
But now, he felt despair—because of the Federation’s endless, unpredictable tricks.
Despite being one of the wealthiest people in the country, the old king found no joy. The Valier had never performed well on the foreign exchange market, but that had never affected Nagaryll’s internal economy. Even if the Valier depreciated further, it wouldn’t change much. A semi-closed economy was not as sensitive to currency fluctuations as an open one.
But no one expected the Federation to appreciate the Valier. That—was truly shocking.
The old king had a gut feeling—this wasn’t a good thing. In fact, it was very bad. But he couldn’t articulate why, couldn’t turn his instinct into coherent words.
It was like someone who had never seen feces before being served a beautifully plated turd. Even if it looked nice, people instinctively knew: this is not food. But if you asked them why, they couldn’t explain it. It was instinct.
The old king felt the same. Something big was coming—but he couldn’t say why.
Provincial governors, capital elites, even some of his own relatives, were frantically moving their assets abroad. With the Valier appreciating, what used to buy one house overseas could now buy almost two.
No one knew what the future held, but now was clearly the best time to transfer wealth.
These people didn’t care about their identities as rulers of Nagaryll. To them, the country was doomed. The smartest thing was to jump ship before it sank.
Looking at the crowd gathering outside the palace square, the old king sighed. Without knowing the root of the crisis, there was no way to resolve it. And the real threat came from the Federation’s unexpected, ever-changing strategies.
Even if he figured out the cause of this crisis—
what about the next one?
And the one after that?
And the one after that?
“Inform all departments—do not escalate the situation. We don’t yet understand what’s really going on. We need to wait…” The old king waved wearily. A servant in the corner bowed and vanished silently.
The Nagaryll Youth Party had been his creation. In fact, the leader of the party was his most favored son.
Initially, the Youth Party was formed to counteract people like those from the Preyton Company. If they exploited the country too hard, the party would rise up in the name of the people and drive out those foreign vampires.
The plan had been to eventually eliminate Preyton’s economic colonization and restore true independence.
Unfortunately, before Preyton could fully enjoy the trap laid for him, he was chased off by the Federation.
But the Youth Party didn’t disband. It began to surface more and more—because after Preyton, a far more terrifying enemy arrived: the Federal Republic of Baylor.
The old king once imagined a scenario: what if the Federation supported the Youth Party to overthrow Nagaryll’s semi-feudal rule?
It was possible. Let Nagarylls fight Nagarylls. In the chaos, all the governors, tribal chiefs, even the king himself, could perish in a tide of rising nationalism.
This scenario was so likely that the king continued to support the Youth Party’s development. If things unfolded that way, even if he died, his son—leader of the Youth Party—could inherit his power.
But things don’t always go as planned. Before the Youth Party could shift its platform, mission, and tactics, an unexpected conflict erupted.
Their old slogan,
Expel the foreigners
, had been shouted for years. It couldn’t be changed overnight.
Still, a new slogan had begun to spread:
Take responsibility for your future; control your own destiny
. The shift in rhetoric showed they were softening toward foreigners and moving the focus from
foreign enemies
to
self-determination
.
Which happened to align perfectly with the Federation’s ideology of individual freedom.
If the Federation pushed this transformation, it could not only wipe out centuries of local feudal fragmentation, unifying power under a single system—it could also help Nagaryll leap forward in development.
But everything was moving too fast.
The old king sighed. He was exhausted, worn down, desperate for rest. But he couldn’t rest—not until he found a way to rein in the Federation’s reckless domination.
Outside, the protests were growing louder. The king’s face twisted into a bitter, ironic smile. Who would have thought he’d hear such
beautiful
noise in his own capital?
Three days later, when Lynch learned of the massive protests erupting across Nagaryll, he simply shook his head after reading the s.
The undersea cable installation was far too slow—still not complete. It was holding everything back. Still, the outbreak of protests had been within Lynch’s expectations.
A job that used to pay a hundred now only pays sixty, yet the capitalists claim they haven’t withheld a dime and insist all your demands are unreasonable—how could the people not explode?
Especially with members of the Nagaryll Youth Party and some Federal agents fanning the flames—there’s no way unrest could be avoided.
He put away the letter and returned to the room, where Mayor Landon, Ferrell, several key city hall officials, and the mayor’s nephew Mark were seated.
Following the state election, the composition of the European Parliament would also change. That’s why Landon planned to wrap up his work only after the state elections. Quitting too early or too late would increase pressure and risks for everyone involved.
Now was the perfect time to resign. He could transfer his records to another state, work there for a while, and then be nominated by the state legislature as a congressman.
The current discussion centered on the transition of power. Mayor Landon was leaving, but the interest group that had formed around him couldn’t all leave at once—some weren’t planning to leave at all.
Once Mayor Landon became
Congressman Landon
, he would still be able to look after his old friends in Sabin City.
This was a negotiation during a changing of the guard.