Chapter 309: The Sons’ Responses

Nagaryll was very poor.

But how poor does one have to be to be called very poor?

In Nagaryll, at least 20 to 30 percent of the population never owned a single banknote from birth to death.

It was hard to measure the average income of ordinary people because most of their earnings came through barter—exchanging essential goods that were quickly consumed in daily life.

By year’s end, their homes might only have a bit more stored food, a few extra clothes, or a patched leaking roof—nothing more.

Meanwhile, the ruling class lived like the upper class of developed countries—indulgent and extravagant. The governor’s gold-trimmed desk alone showed his wealth.

Not only was he rich, but the merchants serving the ruling class were also wealthy.

Though lacking absolute power, these merchants had effectively become part of Nagaryll’s ruling elite—some even more influential than lower-tier governors.

Take the largest trading house, Preyton Trading Company, whose owner, Mr. Preyton, had deep personal ties with most governors.

Every year, the rulers imported goods and industrial equipment through Mr. Preyton’s channels. The more dependent people were on him, the greater his temporary influence became.

People couldn’t live without him but also despised him. He was like a vampire, greedily sucking profits. For example, a luxury car costing under 100,000 Federal Sols in its country of origin would cost the ruling class 300,000 to 400,000 Federal Sols after being shipped to Nagaryll.

Yet, they couldn’t avoid him. Many goods were only available through Preyton, who also held some naval power.

Even a hundred years later, piracy would persist; now it was rampant across the vast seas.

Many pirate groups roamed, some allegedly connected to Mr. Preyton. Except for Preyton’s and a few other merchant ships, ordinary merchants’ ships rarely reached Nagaryll.

This forced anyone wanting to import profitable goods to go through these merchants.

Even routes arranged by Nagaryll’s rulers risked robbery or sinking.

Deploying military escorts?

A good idea, but foreign ports might not allow their ships to dock; the cost could exceed merchants’ prices; their navy was likely no match for pirates; and energy consumption alone was daunting.

Nagaryll was rich in mineral resources but undeveloped, including a confirmed oil field deep in the jungle.

When the exploration team discovered it, their first thought was multinational development, ignoring local involvement. They sought political leverage domestically to secure extraction rights by any means.

Before this could happen, the plan leaked. The central government and governors staged an accident: the team was supposedly attacked by wild beasts and perished.

To prove this, rescue teams caught predators and extracted identifying remains.

From then on, Nagaryll banned scientific exploration. They lacked means to protect their resources, and exploiting them threatened the rulers’ power—so they blocked others.

No one mined, avoiding problems. Foreign powers believed in these resources but took no action without evidence.

Nagaryll’s government’s refusal discouraged capitalists from inciting war against a theocratic nation.

Such nations had a trait: when invoking their gods, timid natives became fearless warriors.

Resource development required jungle incursions and territorial control. Even if territories were seized, the situation would decay.

Suicide attacks from believers would exhaust all; only wiping out all followers would succeed.

No one would risk a drawn-out occupation war over uncertain resources.

Without their own oil, Nagaryll’s military depended on imports.

Even to deploy modest ships, they had to buy fuel from Mr. Preyton, ironically to reduce dependence on him.

This complicated cycle made direct concessions to merchants easier and less troublesome.

The ruling class hated these merchants but couldn’t do without them. This was why Governor Drag’s second son wanted Lynch to fight them.

If Lynch won and Preyton lost, existing rules would vanish with Preyton’s fall. Lynch could rise from a provincial merchant to a national powerhouse over years or decades, and the local rulers would profit.

If Lynch lost, rulers lost nothing; they could confiscate his local assets, and Preyton would suffer enough to soften his stance.

To the second son, either way, they won.

The governor sat behind his desk, eyes half-closed, thinking fast. He hesitated; reason told him this wasn’t a good choice.

Over the years, he had seen merchants’ true nature: no different from prairie wolves—greedy, cunning, brutal, ruthless, interested only in profit.

Wolf packs had internal struggles every few years, as younger wolves challenged the alpha. Defeated alphas were replaced, packs expanded until they clashed with others.

Merchants were the same.

Initially fighting each other for trade rights, even warring at sea, now they cooperated closely after removing unstable elements. They were wolves.

Putting Lynch into this pack was unwise. He wasn’t an ordinary wolf and could trigger unpredictable problems—just like now, forcing him to choose sides.

No one expected him to return the problem to the rulers, making them the ones in trouble.

The governor shook his head and looked at the third son. “What about you?”

The second son’s smile froze. The eldest, who had looked sullen, now smiled and comforted his brother, suddenly acting like a good elder brother.

The third son was younger and had studied abroad. He understood developed countries better than his two older brothers.

Calmly, he asked the governor, “Why don’t we cooperate with Lynch?”

He then explained, “These merchants and capitalists ultimately want more money. We can offer him benefits, but he must give corresponding returns.”

“He wants a monopoly? Fine, but our conditions won’t depend on how much he deposits in the bank, but on what he returns to us.”

“Father, with money, everything is easier. Once we cooperate with Lynch, Mr. Preyton and his group will see him as an enemy. Since Lynch stands with us, they can no longer be allies!”

The governor was surprised by the usually reserved third son. His words didn’t fully match the governor’s own thoughts but came very close.

He nodded slightly, which made the eldest and second sons glare at the third with displeasure. The third son, however, smiled shyly, as if trying to appease his brothers.

The governor then looked at the remaining two sons. There was nothing much to say from them—the important points had already been covered by the first three. If they spoke now, they would only make more mistakes and confirm their incompetence in the governor’s eyes.

The governor understood their position well and said nothing critical. In a family like theirs, birth order truly mattered.

After a long pause, he sighed, “You caused this problem, so you should be the ones to solve it. I don’t want to know how you do it—I just want to see the result.”

In the end, he decided to leave the choice of how to handle things to his sons.

This attempt to let them manage the matter led him to realize the third son was sharper than his two older brothers. So he let them handle it, hoping for unexpected surprises.

And if it all fell apart, he could calmly step in to clean up the mess.