Chapter 172: The Symbol of Dictatorship (1)
Chapter 172: The Symbol of Dictatorship (1)
It had been a week since the Dream Factory officially began selling Dream Powder.
As soon as word of mouth spread, the stalls were swamped with customers, and every man in the city was finally able to spend his days "stiff" and full of life.
However, since this was ultimately a matter of "money," it was only natural that if someone made a fortune, someone else had to lose one.
According to the logic of market capitalism, it was only right for those who lost their competitive edge to be weeded out, but this place was closer to imperialism than capitalism.
Of course, I was a noble, but there were always those crazy enough to pull stunts even against the nobility.
"We would like you to shut down the Dream Factory, Young Lord."
A group of men who looked like they knew how to throw their weight around appeared before me.
I had no intention of letting these thugs and baldies into the Lord's Castle Office, but they were the type that the knights couldn't handle on their own.
"Shut down the Dream Factory?"
"Yes. Exactly as I said."
"And why is that?"
"Because we are on the verge of starving to death."
Who were these hulking, bald men?
Naturally, they were the ones whose profits had plummeted because of the Dream Factory—those being pushed out of the market because they couldn't compete with "dream-jerking."
"Are you trying to steal our entire business, Young Lord?"
They were pimps.
"I'm stealing your business? Don't be ridiculous. You sell women's bodies; I sell dreams. We are selling completely different things."
"We didn't come here for wordplay."
As expected.
Now that their pockets were getting light, they were starting to get aggressive, even with the Young Lord.
"Young Lord. We came here today to negotiate."
"Negotiate?"
"Yes. Either we live together, or we die together."
"Are you planning to threaten a Fermaton?"
They say you shouldn't touch a Fermaton because the Infinite Labyrinth would collapse without them, but there are always those who take a "so what?" attitude.
"If I choose to maintain the status quo, what then? Are you going to start a rebellion in the fief? Hmm? How interesting."
"As if we'd do something so crazy. You are a noble, and we are but commoners."
"Then is it right for commoners to meddle in a noble's business?"
"Commoners with a bit of money, that is."
I understood.
It was only natural for those running illicit businesses to have deep pockets.
"Since you established the Dream Factory, the number of men coming to embrace our whores has been steadily decreasing."
"Is that so? How surprising. I would think having real sex with a woman would be much better than jerking off in a dream."
"...Are you saying that while knowing exactly why?"
"The reason? I know it. Isn't it because the whores you sell are too expensive?"
Assuming the end result—blowing a load—is the same.
Ejaculating in a whore costs 1,000 gold.
Having a wet dream costs 200 gold.
The price difference is a staggering fivefold.
And it's not just a quick fifteen-minute session; if someone wants to spend the whole night, it costs even more.
"The women of reality are losing out to the succubi of dreams and aren't being chosen by men. What do you expect me to do about that?"
"Young Lord."
"I think you're misunderstanding something."
I was confident.
Part of it was because Serica was standing behind me, but mostly, I had absolutely no reason to feel intimidated by these pimps.
"What you should be doing isn't suggesting 'coexistence.' You should be on your knees, begging me for a way to survive."
"Young Lord!"
"You shouldn't be raising your voices. You should be hanging your heads and whining, 'We're all going to die at this rate.' That's your job."
I wasn't going to judge them just for being pimps.
However, it was extremely unpleasant for pimps to barge into the Lord's Castle and interrupt the Young Lord's happy time.
"Get out. If you leave now, I'll spare your lives. I'll count to ten."
"Young Lord!"
"Serica."
I lifted Dark Jeanne and took a light sip of wine.
"Once I reach ten, if they are still in this room, cut them down."
"Understood."
That's my Serica.
Even at an order to cut people down, she placed her hand on her hilt without a moment's hesitation.
"One. Two. Three."
"Why, you...!"
The pimps huffed and puffed before storming out.
I'm a man of my word, but they also knew enough about Serica's reputation.
Many of the whores they managed were former adventurers, and Serica was one of the strongest even among female adventurers.
"...Nine. Ten."
"You skipped five numbers in the middle."
"They were quick enough to run away, so what can you do?"
"Young Lord. Did you truly intend for me to strike them?"
"Of course. Why else would I give the order?"
I told Serica to kill them.
By the same logic, I was fully prepared for them to die.
"They were whining when I opened the Dream Factory, and now they have the gall to walk into my office with their boots on to try and hustle me. Tsk."
"What will you do? If you tell me to handle them, I'll do it immediately..."
"I have to handle them. But not through ordinary means."
A red-light district is something that must exist.
No matter how much the Dream Factory sells dreams, it can't perfectly replace real-life sex.
"Brothels have always existed throughout human history. You can't get rid of them in an instant."
The moment the red-light district disappears, people will say:
—Can Ruji Fermaton's power replace the brothels?
To that, I would answer, "For now, yes."
"Serica. What is the greatest power those pimps hold?"
"Cash, I suppose."
"Right. So, if I freeze that cash, they'll react immediately."
And not just the pimps.
The entirety of Fermaton—no, the entire continent—might go into an uproar.
"Those bastards. How dare they steal my precious time? I'll show them the true power of a dictator lord."
I'm sorry, but from now on, Fermaton's red-light district is going to be transformed into a completely new form.
"It's time for a little 'rebranding,' you sons of bitches."
* * *
At that same time.
"Damn it. That brat thinks he's so tough."
Beckmesser, the man who could be called the head of the pimp union, spat on the ground and gnashed his teeth.
"Boss, what do we do? Fermaton has clearly gone off the deep end."
"Tell me about it. With the former lord, you could talk sense into him if you slipped him a few pretty boys, but that crazy pervert would probably take my head off if I tried that. Phew."
The pimps were beyond frustrated.
"We should have stepped in the moment he said he was starting the Dream Factory. Fuck, who was it? Who was the one who said we should just wait and see?"
"That guy tried to catch a succubus himself to sell her, but he got milked to death by them last time."
"Fuck."
Ever since the Dream Factory was created, several pimps had tried to capture succubi to make them slaves.
But they failed.
Fermaton didn't particularly regulate taking succubi out, and they did succeed in capturing succubi from the Infinite Labyrinth to make them slaves.
—K-Kill me...!
—No, you bitch...! I told you to suck in moderation!
—I was being moderate. Hmph, I came here because you said I could eat my fill of men, but look at this pathetic mess.
—I'll kill you, you wench!
—Go ahead. I'd rather die than take any more of these scrawny pencil-dicks!
The problem was that compared to the virgin succubi of the Dream Factory, these wild ones were like untamable horses.
Whether Fermaton had used some kind of magic or not, succubi were incredibly difficult slaves to handle.
In the end, to survive, they had to use human women more competitively, but how many human women could actually hold an advantage over a virgin succubus?
"Damn it. We're going to lose everything at this rate."
"Our ace said she's going back to being an adventurer if things stay like this."
"On my end, they're even threatening to just go to Fermaton."
"As if he'd take in a used-up rag like her. Shit."
Beckmesser lit a cigarette.
"Does he think he's clean just because he's selling dream-jerking? Or does he want to take over the entire red-light district of Fermaton for himself? What the hell is he trying to do?"
"Could it be that what you just said is true?"
"What?"
"...That he's actually trying to take over the red-light district."
"What? There's no way that's possible. You saw it yourself—the guys who jerked off in their dreams came looking for real pussy eventually."
Beckmesser was certain.
"For now, men are settling for cheap dream-jerking, but after a few days, they'll miss real pussy and come to buy it. As long as Fermaton insists on virgin succubi, he can't replace real sex."
Dreams cannot replace reality.
"Women are meant to be touched while you're pounding them. How is dicking around in a dream any different from shooting blanks into the air? Huh?"
No matter how much they had sex with a virgin succubus in a dream, they wouldn't be able to overcome the emptiness they felt upon waking.
"If this keeps up... huh?"
"Boss! We have a problem!"
"What is it, Ebon?"
"The Young Lord deployed the soldiers right after we left!"
"...What?"
Beckmesser's heart sank.
"D-Don't tell me, he's coming for us...?"
"It's not that! Look at this!"
Beckmesser snatched the parchment Ebon handed him, his hands trembling violently.
"...Ruji Fermaton, that madman...!"
It was a decree.
A new currency.
"He's going to mint currency with his own face on it...?"
Ruji Coin.