Chapter 222
Chapter 222
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 222
Chapter Title: Polybia's Trade War
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The citizens of Polybia believed there was no better word for what was happening in their city than "war."
On the surface, it didn't seem like that big of a deal.
Broad daylight in Polybia still maintained decent public safety, with no signs of it worsening anytime soon.
Pickpockets were rampant, sure, but in Polybia, pickpocketing was practically a business.
A clumsy pickpocket would get caught and beaten black and blue, but if your pockets and bags were emptied without you noticing, that was on you. Besides, these thieves usually targeted outsiders unfamiliar with Polybia's pickpockets, so some even called it a public service for the city's commerce.
The nighttime scenery hadn't changed much either.
In one corner of the commercial district stood Polybia's famous red-light district, frequented by travelers, merchants from other regions, local politicians, and organized crime members.
But in Polybia, even this was accepted as part of the order. To the citizens, their city on the sea was no different from its reflection shimmering on the water's surface—distorted and illusory.
War wasn't easy to spot.
It started with apple prices dropping. Then prices for a few imported fruits and vegetables from other countries followed suit.
As time passed, prices for meat, all sorts of foodstuffs, raw materials, and pharmaceutical ingredients plummeted too.
With goods getting cheaper, everyone thought it was a good thing.
Gathered at taverns, people figured it was due to the war between the Blackrin Empire and the Ronante-Oroban Alliance.
Merchants who'd planned to supply war materials had their sea routes blockaded, so they were redirecting goods inland instead.
"But if there's a blockade, imperial goods can't get in, right? Shouldn't prices go up?"
That was true.
No matter how tight the alliance, they couldn't fully seal the ocean between the Third and First Continents. Small amounts of imperial goods trickled in now and then, but with poor rail connections and subpar transport overall, Polybia might as well have none.
The reason prices were falling was simple.
Someone was importing even more goods.
Even amid war, with powerhouses like the Ronante-Oroban Alliance and the Danri United Kingdom nearby, there was plenty to spare for a small city-state like Polybia.
As time went on, the combatants became clear.
On one side was Pallet's Trading Company, the largest in Polybia, and its web of affiliated merchants. On the other: Etimo Trading Company and its allies.
To maintain monopolies on imports against their rivals, both companies slashed prices to unprecedented levels.
Newspapers dubbed the long-established Pallet the "traditionalists," backed by local elites, while the empire-aligned Etimo, dense with foreign interests, were the "globalists." They covered the feud daily.
It fueled gossip, and back alleys buzzed with open bets on which goods would drop next and by how much.
Not even the companies themselves knew how it would end, let alone the citizens.
A month in, three alley shops shuttered, five factories closed, and self-employed folk and laborers turned to begging.
Debtors unable to pay loan sharks turned up dead; in revenge, brutal lenders and their thugs were found shot in alley dumpsters.
The companies claimed monopolies on some foods and materials by crushing rivals, but overordering others to win caused shortages elsewhere.
Restaurant menus blacked out items, bicycle production halted, and leather goods grew scarce.
As safety deteriorated daily, the assassination of a councilor backing the Etimo family prompted the mayor and city council to urge reconciliation. Neither side budged.
For the first week, Philina Etimo, head of the Etimo family, couldn't grasp what was happening.
She first assumed it was profit-driven.
Inter-company rivalries like this were routine—just accelerated.
But Pallet's aggressive moves forced Etimo to follow suit.
Over time, Pallet's actions defied pure profit logic.
Some items had plenty of substitutes, making monopolies tough, or new tech could disrupt them—no need for such heated competition.
Yet Pallet poured money in relentlessly.
Solely to crush Etimo.
'This far? Why?'
Even if Pallet eventually ousted Etimo in Polybia, it wouldn't last.
Wartime cut off imperial aid, but the empire had many merchants who could help Etimo. Without them, alliance and kingdom traders eyed Polybia hungrily.
'This bloodbath will just hand everything to outsiders. What's the point, Pallet?'
Philina's question was answered not by Pallet, but by Owen, the elderly lizardman claiming to be inventor Simo's assistant—their new contractor.
"There are values more important than money."
Philina replied,
"There aren't."
"I won't try to change your mind, but you're Philina Etimo, and Bulko Pallet thinks differently, no?"
"He's no different from me."
"No, he is."
With that, Owen produced a small idol.
It was of the Wrathful One, revealed only once near the end of the Continental Unification Wars.
Intriguingly, though palm-sized, its heft suggested solid gold.
"From a hidden Pallet chamber."
"...Unbelievable."
"I can't prove it myself. With something this valuable, you can verify it."
Philina doubted but checked. Handing her a gold lump like this swayed her money-minded self.
She did suspect something off.
The Wrathful One's golden idol was exquisitely crafted, yet bore no maker's traces—made and stored in secret.
Philina leaked word of it. Pallet reacted instantly. Owen was right.
She sought him out.
"How did you find it?"
"Picked up a few tricks over the years."
"...Sir, it doesn't make sense. What do they gain? Do they think the Wrathful One wants us ruined?"
"No."
"Then what do you think they want?"
Owen was puzzled there too.
'Why target Etimo instead of Simo?'
By now, Owen knew electricity was a divine-level issue.
But if so, gods should fight over knowledge-holder Simo.
Post-threat detection, he'd focused on guarding Simo.
No major dangers yet.
'Am I missing something?'
Still, he aided Etimo—Simo's first backers, empire kin. Sentiment mattered.
Otherwise, he'd have whisked Simo out of Polybia.
Owen said,
"I think Simo is the key."
"Eh, the inventor?"
"The gods value electricity highly."
Philina shook her head.
"Then it's the patents that matter, right?"
"What's that?"
"Uh, hmm. Sir, forgotten you're Simo's assistant? Know about patents?"
"No."
Philina explained briefly: ownership rights to inventions. Owen looked baffled.
"But that doesn't erase what's in Simo's head, does it?"
"True. But patents can be sold or transferred. Polybia, the alliance, kingdom, and empire all recognize them."
To Owen's displeased look, she added,
"If you're right, they want electricity patents. Makes sense—they'll swoop in when we're desperate, selling everything, including patents."
Owen pondered, then said,
"But I think the creator matters more than the rights."
He knew she'd disagree.
She'd said money was everything.
'Guarding one person alone is tough, but doable. Got experience.'
But Philina surprised him.
"I agree, sir."
"Didn't you say nothing tops money?"
"Can't buy people with money—that's why we buy patents instead."
"Thought you'd back slavery too."
"Looks can deceive. At pantheon events, I always get front row—the biggest donor."
Philina continued,
"Rumors say Etimo will fall. Maybe. Traditionals have deep local ties; we're empire-backed, but war cuts that off. Still, I'll trust you."
"Will you?"
"Yes. If choosing between patents and Simo, I'll pick Simo."
"Oh ho."
"He'll invent far greater things."
"..."
Owen sensed Philina's ulterior motives but didn't mind.
The fight wasn't confined to Polybia.
Nor was it just soldiers vs. soldiers, creations vs. creations, apostles vs. apostles.
The gods themselves were moving.
This was unusual.
Direct war intervention violated causality directly.
It consumed massive faith resources.
Yet between these two gods, it warranted such drastic involvement.
Conversely, some cases had murky causality.
For instance, torch orchards to halt falling apple prices—via freak lightning from clear skies.
Direct harm to farmers, but trivial next to world-altering war.
No big shift in "the world's fate."
Collapse mines with quakes to freeze raw material prices, burying miners.
Mines close, mining towns crumble—but a small community's end is petty globally.
Of course, this was a loophole.
The world's fate reacts sharply to divine wars, sluggishly to paradox prophecies or market pranks.
Minimal faith cost for causality hacks.
Truly godlike acts.
While scrutinizing how events fed Polybia's feud, small groups and domains repeatedly burned or sank.
All over "patents"—seemingly less valuable than a mortal life to them.
Seong-un opened his eyes to the addon-supported alert.
Faith resources consumed had refilled enough for the next move.
'Next up...'
Gazing at the map, he spotted a message at the bottom of his view.
'Finally...'
What he saw was a world message, and...