I'll Make You Regret Being Born
"What?!"
"Th-the furnaces have gone cold! Every last skilled worker who was keeping the furnaces running has stopped working and vanished! They've all gone cold!"
"Are they insane?! H-how... Is it just you? Please tell me it's only your factory—"
"Every other factory is the same! All the skilled workers who were holding out until the end bolted at the same time! Every furnace in Scrap Yard is completely cold right now! No one is working the mines either! What do we do?!"
Bias dropped the bottle of high-end whiskey he was holding.
The bottle shattered, soaking the floor with whiskey as red as blood, but Mayor Bias didn't notice it.
"Those... those bastards... Have these vermin lost their minds?!"
"Mayor. It isn't just the skilled workers. Every laborer in the city is swarming out of the city right now! The whole of Scrap Yard is emptying out!"
"Are they so insane they want to starve to death? What's outside the city?!"
"A free meal station and a field hospital!"
"What?"
"They say the Order of Grace and Karma Company are running a massive food supply operation right outside the city! A full train of ingredients has just been brought in and is being distributed right now! Mayor!"
If being rejected by Duke Lima and High Bishop Rufus had felt like a clean punch to the solar plexus, this one felt like a full-force swing to the back of the head with a construction-grade sledgehammer.
Mayor Bias's face turned whiter than a corpse.
"Wh-where?! Where is it?!"
"At the East Gate, where the train line connects!"
"Bring the car! I'm going there right now!"
Bias wasn't the only one whose feet were held to the fire.
As they headed toward the East Gate, lines of factory owners' automobiles came into view.
Escorted by Scrap Yard's police, the factory owners and Mayor Bias rushed out in a mob—and the next moment, a horrifying sight unfolded before their eyes.
"There's plenty to eat! Everyone! This is vegetable soup made with fresh vegetables just brought in from the South!"
High Priest Yodel and the priests of the Order of Grace were distributing food to the poor with an attitude of practiced ease.
Off to one side, priests were frantically treating sick patients.
"Anyone who'd like roast turkey, come this way! These turkeys were personally flown in by Chairman Jonathan Karma! If you prefer pork, go over there! There's plenty of pork as well!"
And from every direction, the sizzling sound of roasting meat echoed through the air.
Hungry laborers were wolfing down soup and meat, and employees wearing clothes marked with the Karma Company crest moved busily, churning out an endless supply of dishes.
Mayor Bias and the factory owners felt their heads spin. If things went on like this, there would be no reason at all for the workers to return to the factories.
"Th-this... this is..."
Just as Mayor Bias was stammering, a middle-aged gentleman approached them, accompanied by a female secretary.
"So you're Mayor Bias. I was waiting, figuring you might come by. I'm Jonathan Karma. This is my secretary—and wife—Oliviera."
Under normal circumstances, Bias would have put on the appropriate mask and offered a smile.
But right now, he didn't have the luxury to wear any mask at all.
"What exactly... is all this, Mr. Karma?"
"As you can see, I'm in the middle of providing poor relief. My wife and I are Lilia followers, you see. We simply can't stand by and watch the poor and the sick suffer. Ha ha!"
At Jonathan's shameless words, Mayor Bias's eyes darted rapidly.
Desperately suppressing his emotions, he forced out a smile.
"Let's go inside and talk first. How about it?"
"Sounds good. I was getting tired of standing anyway."
Mayor Bias and the factory owners took Jonathan Karma and his wife Oliviera inside the city.
They headed for Town Hall, the center of Scrap Yard, and soon entered a grand reception room.
Before Jonathan and Oliviera could even sit on the sofa, Mayor Bias hurriedly opened his mouth.
"Mr. Jonathan. I'll come straight to the point."
"Oh dear. I thought you'd at least offer us a cup of tea. My wife and I have simple tastes. We can enjoy a pleasant cup even if it isn't a high-grade tea that needs long steeping."
Watching Jonathan put on an amiable, hearty laugh, Bias felt a thousand fires ignite inside him, but he forcibly suppressed the feeling.
This was the time to persuade Jonathan. Not to antagonize him.
"Mr. Jonathan. Why go to all this trouble? Do you know what the population of this city is?"
"I understand it's a little over one million."
"To feed an entire population of that size, how much do you think the daily food costs alone come to?"
"The foodstuffs bought just for today came to roughly one hundred thousand Saled. Given the numbers involved, the sheer cost of food alone is staggering."
"Exactly. One hundred thousand Saled. An enormous amount of money. It's money you'll have to spend every single day. You're not slow with numbers, so I'm sure you know how heavy the losses will be. And it won't stop at food costs. Running a free meal station, running a clinic... Once you add in all the additional money that's bound to hemorrhage, your losses will be even greater."
"Employee wages. The cost of shipping food all the way here—that alone is no small sum. On top of that, we've hired cooks too. Good cooks don't come cheap, you know."
Seeing Jonathan Karma still not drop his smile, Mayor Bias had to barely hold back the urge to snap.
"Why deliberately take actions that cause you losses like this? Hm? You and Scrap Yard have no connection whatsoever, isn't that right."
"I'm relieving the city's poor with my own money. I would've thought the mayor would be pleased."
Watching Jonathan flash that good-natured grin, Bias felt his patience slowly begin to snap.
A convulsive tremor made him quiver all over, yet he still fought to keep a smiling face.
"What I mean is, you don't have to—really don't have to go this far. We in Scrap Yard handle our own affairs. I'd appreciate it if you would leave without incurring any further losses."
"As I said, I can't do that."
Grind.
The sound of teeth grinding leaked from Mayor Bias's mouth.
"Why is that?"
"Didn't I tell you? My wife and I are Lilia followers."
"..."
"The Goddess of Grace has commanded me to scatter her grace upon this city. So that is exactly what I'm doing. Did you see the city's laborers eating turkey? How blissfully they ate. Heh heh heh! I couldn't help but smile myself!"
"..."
"It reminded me of when Cecilia was little. That's my daughter's name—she's been doing extraordinarily well in the capital's social circles lately. So many invitations, ha ha! In any case, eating well is terribly important. My daughter was very skinny when she was young, so I know that very well..."
"Mr. Jonathan. Ha ha. This is getting... I suppose I'll have to speak more frankly."
At last, Mayor Bias's patience snapped.
And the factory owners' patience snapped with it.
"I'm telling you to stop interfering and get out. Stop taking our workers away any more than this."
"The meaning is, be content with what you have in the capital, Mr. Jonathan."
"You. Why are you suddenly reaching into a metal industry you know nothing about?"
"Do you think we're just going to sit still? Your own businesses need to produce cars and build factories, so surely you need the iron products we manufacture? Do you think you can mess with the empire's largest steel production zone and walk away unscathed??"
Even as the factory owners and Mayor Bias raged, Jonathan kept a leisurely expression.
Letting all the sharp words flow past him calmly, he pulled a cigarette from his chest pocket.
"Jonathan Karma!! No matter how big a deal you are, do you think you can make an enemy of all of Scrap Yard and still..."
"You said to be frank, so I'll be frank too. How long do you people think you can last against me?"
Cigarette smoke drifted lazily into the air.
Jonathan was still smiling. But the quality of the smile was different now.
"Three days? A week? A month? I guarantee you—if you last another three weeks, you'd have done well."
"Ha! Do you think we can only last a measly three weeks, Jonathan Karma?"
"You'll only last that long. And the reason is simple: your single biggest customers—the factories in the Southern Factory Zone and the Magic Tower side—are going to refuse payment."
"..."
"Did you forget that most of the people in the Southern Factory Zone are Lilia followers? Consider it the price for touching the Saint. And on top of that, your factory operations have conveniently ground to a halt, so you can't meet the contracted quantities, can you?"
"..."
"As for the magic metal for the Magic Tower side... well. I've bought the entire stock of magic metal from the Mars Mage Tower branch and promised to supply it cheaply to the other towers. So they won't have any reason to look your way for the foreseeable future."
"You... you bastard... you..."
"And by now, all of your furnaces have gone cold? Too bad. Producing iron will be impossible now. After all, you'll have to tear them all down and rebuild them. Your funding is cut off, your production has gone down the drain. And—ah. You'll also have to undergo investigations by the Pantheon and the Black Fortress, won't you? A heresy inquisition and a tax audit at the same time. Truly rotten luck."
Watching the speechless, trembling factory owners and Mayor Bias, Jonathan chuckled and blew out smoke.
"Earlier, you said feeding the workers of this city was a loss. I don't see it that way at all. I view it as an investment—an essential investment to swallow Scrap Yard whole. I did some digging, and it turns out you recently took out quite a few loans from Martok Bank, didn't you? For that new mine development?"
Mayor Bias's eyes widened. But the next words from Jonathan made his eyes grow even larger in shock.
"Martok Bank. As of today, it belongs to Karma Company. The seal was stamped before I arrived here, so officially, I'm your creditor as of today. Weren't you the ones just shouting so arrogantly a moment ago? Now I'm curious too. The debt—how exactly do you intend to repay it?"
"..."
"I imagine that sooner or later, you'll be handing those factories and companies you treasure so much over to me. Whether you like it or not. By force, that is."
Only then did the factory owners and Mayor Bias realize they'd grabbed the wrong end of the stick.
The genial-looking middle-aged gentleman in front of them hadn't come here to leisurely hand out food to the laborers.
He had come to hunt—after making a thorough calculation first.
"Th-that kind of money... there's no way..."
"I'm sorry to say, but that kind of money does exist, Mr. Bias. Enough money to feed a population of nearly a million out there for ten years, to snap up a bank in the blink of an eye, to rebuild all those ruined furnaces from scratch, and still have more than enough left over to transform this entire city exactly the way I want. To be more precise, this quarter's revenue from Karma Company alone would be more than enough."
Jonathan stubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray.
"Mr. Bias."
Jonathan and Oliviera rose from their seats.
The couple smiled.
"With an unlimited supply of elixir gushing from the ground—and with a company that won't pay taxes for the next ten years—are you confident you can win a fight against that?"
It was an utterly chilling smile.