Below the walls, carriages from Suneo packed the streets, each of them piled high with cargo. With ferocious battle cries, the caravans poured into Holylight while wagons from the Kid Company came rushing into Gatekeeper. This was an unimaginable turn of fortune for the desolate region.
Suneo... I never thought we’d be dealing with them, Harts thought. Suneo was a nation of merchants who produced all manners of luxury brand items popular with nobles throughout the continent. Many nations imposed heavy tariffs on Suneo just so their domestic products and merchants would stand a chance, just as Japan tariffed foreign rice products to protect the livelihood of rice farmers in the country. Most countries around the world used tariffs to some degree to protect their national culture and products.
What did they say about Suneo? That they were only going to be taxed a tenth of their revenue? Harts recalled. It was easy to imagine how all domestic high-end merchants would go out of business. Suneo’s products had only been unattainably expensive because of those tariffs. On the surface, it seems like a benefit that these well-made products are going to be available for less. Until now, merchants in Holylight had formed a tight circle to create a sort of monopoly so there was no room for any new business. Tahara, ever the pragmatist, claimed that there could be no innovation or even improvement where there was no competition. In a sense, he was restoring a healthy market where only the brands that created popular, well-made items would survive. Of course, that left some brands winners and others losers—such was the consequence of the free market.
A tall and slender man stepped up beside Harts. It was Kid, the leader of the Kid Company himself. “Did you see how many carriages were down there? Suneo is taking full advantage of this new opportunity, it seems.”
“You’re... I must thank you for those supplies you provided us,” Harts said.
“Merely a little greeting from us,” Kid said.
Quietly, Harts assessed that Kid was readying to take full advantage of the North’s circumstances. Kid, the de facto leader of the Republic, showing up all the way out here was proof enough.
With a hand on his chin, he watched the caravans flow out of Gatekeeper. “That was like a military parade. Well, they are heading to a certain kind of battlefield.”
“A social battleground, you mean?” Harts asked humorlessly. Even though the Militants were nobles by birth, they had been caught up in war long enough to know that the demeanor and dress expected of typical nobles were completely worthless on a real battlefield. According to Harts, so were luxury items, especially foreign ones being imported from Suneo.
“Every noble in Holylight will flock to those products like moths to a flame. No matter how much demand the Company creates here, we can’t afford to play too many favorites, considering the future relationships we want to uphold in Holylight,” Kid explained.
Harts wondered if business, too, was a sort of diplomacy. Supply was always finite, so merchants could refuse to sell their product no matter how good the offer was. On the other hand, they could take a temporary loss to build a relationship with a buyer. In Holylight, some nobles might have drawn their sword at this, trying to defend their honor. Harts figured that Kid was trying to convey the nature of business. “It seems you’re trying to enlighten me.”
“I wouldn’t dare. I only wish for you to understand that we, too, are fighting on battlegrounds of a different sort. Just like nobles, when we lose a battle, we go down.”
Harts thought of Dona and Noodle. Countless nobles had lost their positions after the devastating loss of Central. At the same time, every one of their personalized merchants had gone down with them. That being said, the fact that Kid himself had come all this way suggested that he had something else in mind. “In fact, I want to form a firm relationship with the militant nobles,” he explained.
“How bizarre. None of us are interested in the extravagant fare you deal.”
“I’m sure. Perhaps you have piles of money you have no idea what to do with.”
Harts grunted—ten thousand gold medallions sat quietly in the fortress, labeled celebratory funds for winning the war. It was the equivalent of a whopping one hundred billion yen. Worse yet, the Demon Lord had suggested they blow money on parties while Tahara had only stipulated the Militants make a splash when they spent. Both of them urging Harts to use the funds was as good as a direct command.
“Where did you hear— Well, to tell you the truth, we do...” Harts ground out.
Kid didn’t laugh. He knew his business in this new world would have to be different, just as Holylight was evolving into a vastly different country than it had been. “To be frank, we don’t think we can outsell Suneo’s merchants. It’s time for us to take a leap and change our business model.”
“I heard you deal with the richest class,” Harts said.
“Indeed, we used to. This is an opportunity for our business to be reborn. Once Holylight unites, it will be as vast as the Northern Nations combined. So, how will you use your ten thousand gold medallions, Sir Harts?”
“I’ve been tasked...with using it for parties,” Harts said.
Kid burst out laughing. “What an idea! Your new king has no problem spending his coin, does he?”
“It is no laughing matter...! It would be nothing more than a colossal waste,” Harts said bitterly.