Mage? Magic Engineer!-Chapter 118 - 115: Dispute

Dipresy was certainly not as idle as he had let on to Kano, merely busying himself with a school. His dispute with Nekker, however, had well and truly come out into the open.

The Holy Kingdom’s financial markets were currently booming, and its material industries were expanding rapidly. New workshops were either under construction or already in operation. The number of unemployed was steadily falling, and as a result, public order had improved significantly. Aside from the constantly depreciating Paper Currency and the return of rising prices, everything seemed to be thriving. The situation was so good that even the complaints about the rising price of bread had quieted down.

Charles XVI had come to rely on Nekker more and more. The Cardinal, of course, would not grow jealous of the King’s favoritism. Even if he were so inclined, he had no time to waste on such pointless emotions.

Dipresy, on the other hand, could sense that the Minister of Finance was lost in a hedonistic game. Before becoming a minister, he had been a player—or a banker, as they were called. Now that he was the house, he was wagering the Kingdom’s fate and the Royal Family’s reputation as collateral in pursuit of some personal gratification.

Nekker Jean was enjoying himself—reveling in wealth, power, and everything that came with them. His actions were by no means born from a sense of responsibility to His Majesty or to the country. It was this keen perception that made Dipresy particularly despise the Minister of Finance. In Dipresy’s eyes, even a fool like the Guard Captain, shackled by his own honor, was far better than Nekker.

In the morning, the Archbishop and the Minister of Finance had a joint audience with His Majesty. Charles XVI was not a morning person, but last night had been like most nights. He hadn’t stayed up until the wee hours with the Queen or a mistress, so he could just about manage to rise and accommodate his two busy and beloved ministers.

At that moment, three copies of the report on the recent economic situation in Valois lay in the King’s study. The Prime Minister was studying his copy intently. The Minister of Finance was stroking the gilt-stamped parchment of his, caressing the ever-increasing numbers within. And finally, there was His Majesty the King, who was using a new watch he had crafted the previous night as a paperweight, his gaze quickly captivated by its ticking hands.

"The Kingdom’s situation has seen unprecedented improvement of late, a credit to the Minister of Finance’s new measures." The Cardinal began with a flattering opening. Before Nekker could offer a modest reply, Dipresy immediately changed his tone. "Your Majesty, Minister of Finance, I believe this presents us with a precious opportunity."

"What opportunity?" Charles XVI dragged his attention away from the elegant movement of the watch’s mechanism. He had some vague recollection of Lord Dipresy’s proposal, but the details escaped him just as he was about to speak.

Nekker, however, knew exactly what the Prime Minister was proposing and had prepared himself. "Taxes, Your Majesty. I believe the Lord Chancellor desires a... vigorous... tax reform."

Nekker had his own agenda. In the Royal Palace, words like "vigorous" and "reform" were far from positive; they were antonyms for "stability."

Sure enough, His Majesty the King’s expression soured, and he turned to his Prime Minister.

The Archbishop spoke with conviction. "Now is the perfect time! I propose we raise taxes on the assets belonging to the Nobility, the Church, and the Magic Guilds within the Kingdom! They have grown fat and complacent. If Your Majesty takes a firm hand against them now, the pain they feel will be far less than in previous years, and so will their resistance. We can take a slow and steady approach, gradually revoking their financial and economic privileges one by one.

"Conversely, if we miss this window, two problems will arise. First, the Kingdom’s public bonds are now tied to the stock market, and I do not believe the market will remain this enthusiastic indefinitely.

"Second, due to the unfair tax rates, the ones expanding most aggressively in this current boom are the commercial firms under the Magic Guilds, followed by industries that have pledged themselves to the Great Nobles. Even the Church has begun enclosing land. All of these are squeezing the commoners who pay their normal share, and in doing so, eroding the Kingdom’s tax base.

"I will venture the worst-case scenario: if we miss this chance to increase taxes on the privileged classes, the Kingdom’s tax revenues will continue to deteriorate!"

The King grew serious as he listened to the Archbishop’s impassioned plea. The memory of the Royal Palace’s recent financial straits was still a source of great anxiety for him. He turned to his chief financial officer. "Lord Nekker, do you agree with Lord Dipresy’s opinion?"

"I object!" ’What a joke! The key to maintaining our finances right now is the continuous absorption of wealth. Outright plunder is much faster than taxation!’

This process of sucking the Kingdom’s blood could not be interrupted. For one, Nekker needed to continue converting the Kingdom’s precious-metal-denominated debt. For another, he needed to lure "hot money" into the stock exchange and the public bond market to soak up the over-issued Paper Currency and suppress the current, rampant inflation.

’It isn’t time to pop the bubble and liquidate the public bond market yet.’

"Your Majesty, I must explain that the current prosperity is driven, first and foremost, by the vitality of our financial markets. The Lord Bishop, perhaps, does not have a deep understanding of these markets. He may not realize what a tremendous shock a rash tax hike would cause. The moment our exchange cools, the income of both Your Majesty and the Kingdom will plummet. The prosperity we see today would be utterly destroyed by the Lord Chancellor’s proposal."

"Then does that not prove this prosperity is both fragile and false?"

"That is a grave accusation! Is the wealth in gold and silver I have gathered for His Majesty and the Kingdom also false? His Majesty himself can bear witness for me!" Nekker employed a tactic from his banker days, taking half a step back. "I do not oppose raising taxes. However, I wish to do so only after all the new factories are complete, once today’s achievements have been transformed into solid, tangible industries."

"True, you have procured a great deal for His Majesty. But I ask you, how will you pay the year-end dividends to the Mining Company’s shareholders? How will you repay the bonds as they mature? Has that damnable Sub-plane produced a second ounce of gold?" Dipresy had seized upon Nekker’s weak spot, the critical lynchpin of the entire game. In just six months, the dream promised by this "Alchemist" was set to expire.

But in Nekker’s mind, the game had to continue for another six months before he could show his cards. It was essential to quell the bettors’ doubts. "Since the Lord Bishop questions me, then I will prove him wrong! I will prove it to everyone!"

The focus of the debate in the Royal Palace was now the "Shaleanna Mining Company." Its general manager, Valon, was completely unaware.

A slender, pale finger traced circles on the young man’s chest, finally stirring him awake.

"What time is it?"

"Thirteen minutes to nine, my dear."

"Damn it, damn it!" The combination of last night’s exertions and the comfort of the large, silk bed had made Valon oversleep. ’How much time do I have?’ He remembered. Forty-three minutes until his meeting with the Prince. In that time, he had to get dressed and travel across half the city.

"Why didn’t that stupid servant come wake me!"

The noblewoman, still lounging on the large bed, sounded aggrieved. "My dear Valon, you were sleeping so soundly. I couldn’t bear for you to be disturbed, so I sent her away. You were so tired yesterday. I wanted to let you sleep in, then wake you myself."

"Couldn’t bear it? You couldn’t bear it! Oh my god! My dear lady, why must you be so considerate! Your kindness makes me grateful, it makes me tremble! I can’t bear it!" Valon grew more and more agitated, his voice rising until it triggered an urge to cough.

’I can’t have an attack here!’ He snatched the medicinal powder from the bedside table. With no time to dust it onto a handkerchief, he simply cupped it in his palm and inhaled.

He felt much better. He chased it with a swig of strong, purple-tinged liquor, and the combination shocked him into full wakefulness.

The noblewoman was already sobbing. ’I still need to coax her annuity and family assets out of her to buy stocks before her husband, the Marquis, returns to Valuva. I can’t let it all fall apart now.’ "My apologies, my lady," he said, his tone softening. "I... I just woke up and lost my composure for a moment. My unprovoked anger has hurt you, I see. Your tears break my heart."

The lady kept her face buried in her hands. Valon could only adopt an even gentler tone. "To make it up to you, how about I invite my beautiful lady to dine at the Starlight Torch restaurant tonight, and then we can see the late show of ’Edmund and Catherine’?"

"Didn’t... you say... you were afraid of being seen?"

"This time I have tickets for a private box. It will be completely discreet."

At the word "discreet," a blush bloomed on the lady’s hidden cheeks. She replied in a voice as faint as a spider’s thread, "Alright, Valon."

By the time Valon reached the courtyard, his driver and secretary had been waiting for a long while.

"You didn’t wake me either! Never mind. Inform Miss Fudoli that tonight’s appointment is postponed. Postponed until... whenever I’m free. You come up with a reason. To the Prince’s Mansion."

"Yes."

’The Prince wants to sell his stocks? And exchange them for Gold Coins, no less...’ Valon would have to do everything in his power to stop him. He even planned on convincing the muddle-headed old man to buy more.