Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters-Chapter 910 - 19 Human Head Tickets

Chapter 910: Chapter 19 Human Head Tickets Chapter 910: Chapter 19 Human Head Tickets Iron Peak County, Revodan.

Should they sell the head tokens? This question plagued almost every militiaman in Iron Peak County.

The more meritorious militiamen were, the more entangled they felt, and Ivan was among them.

“Sell it,” Aksinya begged her husband while holding their young son, “At least sell one?”

Ivan didn’t speak, just stared intently at the five head tokens laid out in a line on the table.

Setting aside the value assigned to them, the head tokens were nothing more than ordinary sheepskin paper stamped with laws and a serial number, with the only distinctive feature being the seal and signature of Montaigne, the Civil Guard Officer.

The more Ivan looked at them, the more incredible it seemed: such ordinary paper could represent such a considerable fortune.

...

“But who to sell to?” Ivan said hesitantly, “And for how many Gold Coins?”

Aksinya, holding her now-sleeping child, sat opposite her husband, her voice trembling: “I just feel very afraid.”

What was Aksinya afraid of? Fearful of some ill-intentioned people? Or simply terrified of wealth? She couldn’t quite articulate it.

“I think when times stabilize, I’ll exchange these head tokens for tangible land,” Ivan bit his nails, pouring his heart out to his wife: “We could go to the countryside and be well-off farmers, no longer having to live this uncertain city life—I no longer wish to wield a sword.”

“But when will things stabilize?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’m scared.”

“Well… I’ll go out and ask tomorrow,” Ivan put away the five head tokens, carefully hiding them behind the shrine: “Ask who’s willing to buy?”

…

Similar conversations like the one between Ivan and his wife took place in Revodan and across the whole of Iron Peak County. In some cases, these talks even escalated into arguments and violence.

As Ivan and his wife fell into a deep sleep filled with unease and anxiety, Winters was leading Mr. Leo on a tour of the printing workshop, with little Priskin also in attendance.

The county government printing workshop was equipped with the classic Gutenberg press, which had been specifically outfitted with a set of oversized lead type to meet the unique demands of printing public notices.

Winters picked up a freshly printed public notice, and after verifying it was error-free, he smiled and handed it to Mr. Leo: “Tomorrow, this notice will be posted. You will be leaving Iron Peak County, so I wanted you to have a look.”

“Thank heaven,” Leo took the notice: “It’s finished.”

“It’s your accomplishment,” Winters expressed his gratitude to Mr. Leo.

“Just a bit of patching up,” Leo displayed no pride, his head bowed slightly: “No accomplishment at all.”

Little Priskin could hardly contain his curiosity and sneakily glanced at the newly printed notice.

The entire notice concerned one thing—head tokens.

…

When Winters first implemented the scalping system, he hadn’t thought too much about it, considering it just a temporary incentive.

After all, the Terdun Barbarians who had invaded Iron Peak County amounted to just over ten thousand heads, and distributing the land for all of them seemed trivial.

But after introducing the policies of “free trade” and “using scalps as vouchers,” the nature of the head tokens changed.

They became both reservoirs and powder kegs, presenting dilemmas even to Winters.

Apart from speculators in Iron Peak County, another person was very interested in the head tokens—Philip Leo.

Leo, quite interested, observed Winters’ decision-making. After understanding enough, he approached Winters for an in-depth conversation.

Leo was uncharacteristically direct, asking forthrightly: “I want to know, why did you replace actual scalps with paper vouchers? Counterfeiting a piece of paper is much easier than a head.”

“No particular reason,” Winters laughed heartily: “Militiamen sold scalps too cheaply; I couldn’t bear to see it, so I thought to raise the price of scalps a bit.”

“I see,” Leo showed no emotion.

“That was then,” Winters decided to tell Leo the truth: “Now I have some new ideas. I think… maybe head tokens can be used as a tool for raising funds.”

“How to raise?”

“From what I see, most of those purchasing head tokens have no intention of actually exchanging them for land,” Winters said somewhat sheepishly, sharing his naïve idea: “They see them as a commodity that can appreciate in value.”

Commerce was a field completely foreign to Winters; he yearned for guidance from experienced businessmen: “If possible, I would like to issue debt securities backed by all the unsold land of Iron Peak County as collateral—just like Marshal Ned used to do.”

Leo listened intently, then countered: “Why do you want to issue debt securities?”

“Because we’re out of money,” Winters spread his hands: “Iron Peak County is in need of funds everywhere, but the treasury is empty.”

Leo was not the least bit polite: “If you want to link the value of head tokens to the price of land, I can tell you right now—you’re playing with fire.”

“Why?”

“Land is not Gold; its value fluctuates. The land price in Iron Peak County is stable now because the New Reclamation Legion has set the price by decree and strictly controls supply, artificially raising land prices,” Leo pointed to the ground and asked: “What do you think a head token is?”

Winters followed Leo’s train of thought and answered: “Land?”

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“Exactly,” Leo dissected the deep logic of the head tokens step by step: “A head token is not a piece of paper; it’s a hundred acres of land. Every transaction is equivalent to a transfer of a hundred acres of land.”