Relative Deprivation
The Kodana Exchange had been an absolute warzone all afternoon.
"Everyone, please, let's close the exchange first! We need to hear the Hero's explanation before the Kodana market can normalize! Everyone has lost their minds right now—!"
"Explanation my ass! The Hero is the entire reason this happened! Didn't he fabricate slaying one of the Four Heavenly Kings when the bastard was still alive?!"
"It's not just the Hero! What do you think dumping one hundred and fifty coins onto the Holy Kingdom yesterday meant?! Is there anyone here who doesn't know the Second Prince is his backer?!"
"Just stop putting in sell orders already, dammit!!"
People argued furiously over the cause of the crash; some grabbed innocent exchange clerks by the collar, while others abandoned all aristocratic dignity to leap right over the counters and disrupt business.
Human stamina had its limits, however.
With closing time fast approaching, the uproar had subsided to some degree. It wasn't because the investors had attained enlightenment and made peace with the bloodbath. They had simply exhausted themselves after pouring out hours of frenzied emotion.
The Minister of Justice had already fainted and been carried out on a servant's back, while the vice commander of the Imperial Guard sat slumped in a parlor corner, babbling in incoherent tongues.
The current price stood at 180 million lira.
In just a few hours, it had shriveled to less than half.
The greater problem was that even this market price couldn't be trusted. It was merely the figure reached as desperate sellers continually shaved down their asking prices in re-entered orders without finding a single buyer. Although one solitary transaction had cleared at 240 million lira, buying interest had vanished immediately afterward.
One hundred and eighty million was just an asking price. No one had the faintest clue where the real bottom lay.
"...We shouldn't have opened the exchange today."
"What's the point of saying that now?"
With virtually no transactions clearing, could an accurate market price even exist? How much was a Kodana actually worth right now? No matter how catastrophic the news was, why had buyers vanished so completely? The entire floor was shrouded in thick uncertainty.
In the end, the Kodana Exchange closed in dead silence.
Only then did the investors who had stubbornly refused to leave begin shuffling out, their faces hollow with despair. From whales holding dozens of Kodana to an Academy student clutching a single coin, every last shoulder was slumped in defeat.
"The truth hasn't come out yet, so let's just wait and see a little longer. ...Nobody do anything rash, all right?"
"Surely the Imperial Palace or the Hero's party will release an official statement. Not after a disaster like this."
A few people tried desperately to voice optimism, but only those who had recently liquidated a portion of their holdings and secured cash could manage even that.
Those whose entire portfolios were underwater wore expressions too harrowing for words.
"This is my first time having ice cream. I did try sherbet once in the winter, though."
"Same here. It's not bad."
Even while sitting comfortably inside eating sweet ice cream churned by a magic tool, I could tell the Imperial Capital had devolved into total bedlam.
The comparison might seem odd, but it felt remarkably like a village swept by a monster raid.
Just five or six starving goblins running amok was enough to tear a hamlet apart in an instant. In the process of driving them off, at least one or two people invariably wound up dead or maimed, and those suffering property damage were always far more numerous.
I had lived through that brutal reality from childhood to the present day. When I was young, I witnessed it as a victim; once I began earning my keep by the blade, I saw it time and again while marching on relief expeditions to endangered estates.
Disaster always produced victims, large or small, and suffering was never distributed equally. One person might keep their home and farmland completely intact, while another lost every scrap of property they owned.
And that disparity always bred a fresh catastrophe.
The mood in the capital right now was precisely the same.
Am I overthinking this?
Truth be told, I hadn't stepped outside all day. In the morning, I took an elixir to aid my mental image training and immersed myself in cultivation; in the afternoon, I inspected my pre-stocked scrolls and weapons. I had heard about the allegations regarding the Hero's falsified report late yesterday evening, but I hadn't directly witnessed how far the ripples had spread.
Even so, I chose not to ignore the prickle of unease rising in my chest.
"Amelia. Don't answer the door for any guests for the time being."
"Not even Master Bingo?"
"He's an exception, but he'll probably keep his head down for a while anyway. He dumped nine Kodana right before closing yesterday and made a killing. Whenever I'm not home, don't respond to anyone knocking. Just pretend you're deaf to the world."
I gave the order after we finished our ice cream side by side.
Very few employers dined at the same table as their servants. That was true for commoners as well as nobles. Whether they feared sharing a table spoiled the help or simply couldn't stomach the thought of servants eating the same food, I couldn't say. But I usually ate with Amelia. Having someone to talk to was far better than shoveling food down my throat alone.
"...Um, I'll do as you say, but may I ask why?"
Perhaps rattled by the unusual order, Amelia peeked at me, trying to read my face.
She was of average height with brown hair—not a striking beauty by any stretch, but quite charming in her own way. Having handled odd jobs in the Imperial Guard administration, she was usually adept at keeping her expression neutral, but right now her anxiety was plain to see.
"Think of it simply. Are you a capital native?"
"No. I'm from an estate a little ways off called Yengani. My father farms."
"Perfect. Imagine a terrible famine hit your hometown, but your family's fields were the only ones overflowing with a bumper crop—stalks bowing under the weight of plump, golden grain. How do you think the neighbors watching that would feel? Even though you didn't steal a thing from them, they'd feel thoroughly robbed."
"Commonsensically, could something like that even hap... Ah. Yes, I see what you mean."
It was a relief she was quick on the uptake. If she let something slip while gossiping with other servants, it could cause serious headaches.
"You can think of me as that solitary farmer with the bumper crop. I haven't committed any crime, but I'm in prime position to draw everyone's ire."
"..."
"Of course, the Hero and the Second Prince will take the brunt of the curses. But those two aren't people ordinary folks can easily touch. I, on the other hand, am comparatively easy pickings."
"Yes, sir. I understand."
Amelia nodded with evident tension. She seemed to be mentally resolving never to set foot outside for the foreseeable future, grocery runs aside.
Not that she needs to lock herself in entirely. Did I scare her too much?
Even so, there was no need to soften her vigilance.
Because only moments later, a frantic pounding shook the front door.
BANG, BANG, BANG!
The sheer audacity to ignore the bell clearly mounted beside the doorframe. The fury behind the blows suggested that if I didn't open up immediately, they'd splinter the wood and barge right in.
Isn't this a bit too fast, even for an angry mob?
I let out a dry smirk and picked up my sword. Rude guest or not, greeting someone with cold steel wasn't proper etiquette, but one always had to prepare for the worst.
BANG! BANG!
"Cut it out, I'm coming."
Thud...
Determined to see who had the nerve, I yanked the door open.
A middle-aged man stood frozen, hand still raised in the motion of knocking. The moment I saw him, any thought of violent measures vanished.
"Professor Weber?"
He was an acquaintance—a tenured professor from the Imperial Academy's Magic Faculty who lived in the same district.
I remembered how he had dropped by to introduce himself the day after I moved in, trying to strike up a friendly rapport by mentioning he recalled seeing me back when I was an Academy cadet.
"Whenever the students gather, it's nothing but Kodana talk, haha. Your name comes up quite often too, Eric. ...Though frankly, I'm hardly in a position to scold them."
Given how many mages possessed eccentric or foul temperaments, this man had been a good neighbor—warm, welcoming, and entirely devoid of territorial arrogance. He had even nudged my ribs once, remarking with a knowing grin, "I'll be joining your ranks soon enough."
Yet right now...
He's crying.
Tears shimmered in his trembling, unfocused eyes, and his neck and earlobes were flushed crimson from sheer agitation. Having hammered on my door like a madman, he now stood before me unable to string a sentence together, his mouth merely flapping open and shut.
For a tenured Academy professor to completely lose his mind and collapse like this, there was only one possible cause at this point in time.
"What happened?"
"...Uh, the Second Prince, no, the Hero, he... the Beast King...!"
"I heard about that. Allegations arose that the Hero fabricated his report."
"Nothing's even been confirmed yet, and still... and still, everyone's completely lost their minds..."
He babbled incoherently, waving his hands about in sheer frustration.
I had no obligation to listen to the lamentations of a neighbor I barely knew. Even so, I didn't snap at him with a cold Why are you telling me this? There was no reason to make pointless enemies.
"So, argh, how should I even put this... The market clerks at the exchange kept..."
"Everyone is dumping, and nobody is buying. Is that it?"
"Exactly!!"
He suddenly yelled at the top of his lungs, shaking a clenched fist in the air, only for the strength to drain out of him a heartbeat later as his head dropped low. He was utterly incapable of controlling his own emotions.
Resentment and suffocating despair were welling up in his chest with nowhere to go, driving him out of his mind.
"...Professor."
In the end, he sank straight to the floor and began to sob. I didn't touch him; I merely looked down with complicated eyes.
His weeping didn't cease until his family arrived moments later to help him up. As they led him away, I could faintly hear him stammering, "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..." to a young boy who was presumably his son.
Seeing that, I didn't need to visit the exchange to imagine the kind of disaster unfolding...
No, actually, I couldn't imagine it. Whatever nightmare came to mind, reality was bound to be worse.
Only one thing was certain.
I need to expedite my precautions.
The panic among investors was running far deeper than expected. This was no time to cheer just because I had escaped unscathed. The professor had left after venting and crying his eyes out, but whoever came knocking next might not be so harmless.
Too many lives were being destroyed in real time. If I wanted to survive the fallout, I had to keep my wits sharp.