The meeting taking place at the dining hall of Automation first took place a few months ago.
The reason for the first meeting was simple. Everything began with Hwee-Kyung inviting to dinner the merchants who had helped gather resources and engineers from all over the continent to make the four waterwheels at Automation. The dining hall overlooked the four waterwheels, so it was clearly the best place to celebrate the completion of the project.
One of the merchants said, “Since we merchants have come together and achieved this kind of feat, we should be able to do something great again.”
Even though it was just a passing remark, it remained in Hwee-Kyung’s mind for a while. So Hwee-Kyung called and gathered them all again that same evening. They were all great people from various parts of the continent, and she didn’t want to miss out on an opportunity.
One of the merchants she had summoned without giving a specific reason asked Hwee-Kyung, “Lord of Automation, for what reason have you brought us all together again?”
Hwee-Kyung talked about her idea.
“Why don’t we start an organization?”
“Us? Some of us are traveling merchants, but most of us have settled down in our own areas. I like the idea of promoting friendship, but it would be difficult to see each other often…”
“I’m not trying to promote friendship, so there would be no reason for us to see each other too often.”
“What then?”
Hwee-Kyung replied, “We have benefited a lot from those waterwheels over there. Isn’t it a shame to just end our good work like that?”
What Hwee-Kyung was talking about was simple. Money was the only way to make more money. Those who were already wealthy could become wealthier, and when these wealthy people came together, they could gain more profit.
“Even if we don’t go through another big construction like that, we can profit by relaying and gathering information sooner and more accurately than others. For example, if we knew that trees coming from the northern coast were becoming difficult to log due to a disease, we could infer that the prices of the trees would rise. Then we could buy more trees in advance.”
Hwee-Kyung’s idea wasn’t a bad one, so the merchants gave it some thought. It at least didn’t seem like an idea for Hwee-Kyung to benefit by herself.
“We could also benefit in a different way. For example, we could not pay taxes when we trade with each other.”
“But taxes are taken by the country…”
“Aren’t there several ways to go around it? We would at least have to take that kind of risk in order to benefit from each other.”
The first rudimentary ledger book was now being made. The merchants were loyal to money, not their country. And they all began to calculate how much they would benefit from trading goods from their own regions without paying taxes. The merchants began to come up with other ideas.
“We could also trade banned items.”
“That’s right.”
They referred to illegal trades.
“And we could buy and gather valuable goods and resell them when the prices go up.”
“That’s right.”
They referred to stockpiling.
“Why don’t we rather buy all of a certain good and set the price as we wish?”
“That would be possible with all the money we have.”
They referred to monopoly.
“What do you think? It seems okay, right?”
The merchants who were suspicious of the idea at first became more convinced by Hwee-Kyung’s words.
This was all before a proper legal system or business ethics were established. Countries that were quick on their feet would legally ban all the ideas mentioned above, but other than Black Scale, the other countries didn’t yet have proper legal provisions, and even the laws about trading in Black Scale were simply formulated by Lakrak and the deputy warriors.
Hwee-Kyung got up from her seat and stood by the window, thinking, ‘If this idea is bad, God would strike me with a lightning bolt.’
Hwee-Kyung worriedly looked up at the sky for a moment. It was clear, and there was no lightning.
Then a merchant said, “Alright, Hwee-Kyung. By the looks of everyone exchanging whispers and glances with each other, it seems that we have all been convinced by your idea.”
“Then is everyone all for it?”
“However, there is a problem.”
“What is it?”
This merchant was a Troll from what had been a large Troll tribe called Stone Mask. Now it was a country called Asbestos.
“What if any of us betrays the others?”
“Hm…”
Hwee-Kyung understood the Troll’s concern. They were all merchants from different backgrounds gathering to do one thing. If one of them betrayed all the others by leaking information, not only would the false information cause everyone to suffer losses, but the trust among the members of the organization would be shaken. Fortunately, Hwee-Kyung already had an answer to the Troll’s question.
“That’s a valid concern. We’re all different species and believe in different gods, right? It’s obvious that we wouldn’t be able to fully trust each other.”
The merchants nodded.
Hwee-Kyung continued to say, “Though our difference in species cannot be helped, faith can be changed.”
The merchants murmured among themselves.
“Let’s decide on one god to believe in. Everyone will abandon their original faith and become a follower of the new chosen god. After that, a part of the profit we make will be dedicated to the new god and the king that believes in that god.”
In that case, everyone would be protected by the country following the particular faith, and at the same time, they would win the god’s attention. Then there wouldn’t be any traitors since they would all be afraid of the god’s wrath.
‘If you abandon your faith once and then get abandoned by another god…’
People in the present era were all aware how those who were abandoned by gods were living. In the players’ perspectives, they were merely NPC tribes, but in reality, they made up the lowest class in the third continent without any god’s attention and protection.
Hwee-Kyung then asked, “What do you all think?”
The merchants didn’t seem to have too many complaints with Hwee-Kyung’s suggestion. Abandoning their faith was a scary thing to do, but if all the others changed their faiths, that would be a good thing for the one already following the chosen god. Everyone seemed to think it was a risk worth taking.
Another merchant then asked, “But have you thought about how we would decide on the god?”
“Well…we would have to discuss that.”
Hwee-Kyung left the merchants to discuss the matter. Everyone bragged about their own gods, and they couldn’t come to a conclusion.
Hwee-Kyung waited until all the merchants had lost their ability to judge properly out of exhaustion and said, “I know that all gods are great. In other words, doesn’t it not matter whose god we choose? Why don’t we let the dice decide?”
A few merchants did complain at first, but they were soon convinced. And since some of them liked playing dice as a hobby, they were able to readily produce three six-sided dice and placed them on the table.
“Why don’t we go with the person who gets the highest number? Who wants to go first?”
With three six-sided dice, the lowest possible number was 3, and the highest possible number was 18. And looking at the probability distribution, the numbers from 8 to 13 would be the most common results.
The merchant with the highest number out of all fifteen merchants so far was the Nix merchant. Then the last turn came around. Hwee-Kyung picked up the dice and talked to herself in her head.
‘Horns.’
-You call?
‘Yes.’
-Finally time to work.
‘Please do me the favor.’
Hwee-Kyung threw the dice.
Hwee-Kyung’s horns, which was the spirit that manipulated probability, slightly touched the dice rolling on the table. And the rolling dice stopped one by one and revealed their values.
A 6…another 6.
And then 6 again.
The total was 18, which had a 0.46 percent chance of happening.
There had been rumors going around saying that the lord of Automation had a mysterious power, but no one knew exactly what it was. No one in the dining hall noticed the manipulation of probability. And therefore, everyone seemed to accept Hwee-Kyung’s victory.
“I guess I was lucky,” Hwee-Kyung calmly said. “I suppose this was also the will of the Blue Insect God… I’m thinking of starting the meeting by burning your previous tokens for prayer. What do you all think?”
The merchants hesitated, but they all took out the tokens that represented their own gods with the expectations of future profits in mind.
The next step was simple. It was to throw the tokens into the burning bonfire in the corner of the dining hall.
[Notice: The organization ‘The Fifth Waterwheel’ has been established under the leadership of the individual, Hwee-Kyung.]
Sung-Woon was watching Hwee-Kyung from the outside through the window.
‘How shameless you are.’
But he wasn’t upset. It was rather a good judgment.
Sung-Woon had been observing them ever since Hwee-Kyung gathered the merchants again. If he didn’t like where things were heading, he could have used insects to fill the dining hall at any time, but he nodded in approval after reading Hwee-Kyung’s inner thoughts.
‘A merchant organization being created is a natural process.’ .𝒎
Even in the past when capitalism was not prevalent, capitalists always sought expansion, as seen on a smaller scale with the guilds in medieval villages and, on a larger scale, the Hanseatic League. So it would be a good thing for a player if the ones leading this kind of organization were a part of the species they owned.
‘But it is a little early… And it’s unusual that they’re a secretive group.’
To Sung-Woon, it seemed that Hwee-Kyung was likely to be aiming for all of them to abandon their religions from the beginning. And there would have been nothing for her to worry about since she could surely win by manipulating the dice rolling.
‘She must think that spreading faith is also a kind of profit for her.’
Hwee-Kyung wasn’t wrong. In The Lost World, feelings of belonging and fellowship didn’t come from what kind of species established what country, but rather what faith one followed.
Eventually, Sung-Woon would have to attack the players in the middle of the continent, but even if he obtained those large lands right now, it would be difficult to manage them. In Sung-Woon’s opinion, the current borders would remain unchanged at least until the end of the beginning stage of the game.
‘The so-called plateau stage is approaching.’
Players had built their own kingdoms, but that was in names only. Not only was their population insufficient in size, the domestic administrations were disorganized, there were NPC species they had failed to drive out in their territories, and they had to overcome all the random natural disasters that would occur.
‘So attacking others will only make things more complicated.’
Drawing swords wasn’t the only means of conquest. For example, sending one’s own priest to another country to secretly do missionary work was a standard tactic.
Even if this merchant organization hadn’t been formed, Sung-Woon would have used a different method anyways. Hwee-Kyung had simply struck off one of the tasks on Sung-Woon’s to-do list.
‘Setting things up like this only makes it easier for me.’
Sung-Woon slowly began to speculate about the attacks and counter attacks the other countries would make.
***
Lakrak grabbed something white and fluttery from his tent and held it up to the sun. This wide thing that was easy to rip was thin enough for sunlight to pass through it.
Lakrak then asked Zaol, “What did you say this was again?”
“It’s paper.”
“Paper.”
Zaol explained, “Not long ago, a group of Renard stragglers got lost and were captured by us. One of them was said to be a paper craftsman. And thanks to him, we were able to learn how to make paper.”
“What if we just continued to use silk?”
“Silk is expensive and heavy.”
“What about paper? I do think it’s fairly light, but is it not expensive?”
“To make paper, you need to finely smash, tear, and grind wood to make it into pulp and then put it into water. It needs to become mush.”
Lakrak imagined the process.
“It won’t be easy.”
“Yes. Normally, it would take a lot of time to make paper, but…”
Zaol slightly wagged the end of her tail. This would be the equivalent to a Human humming. She was in a good mood.
“We have waterwheels.”
There was a large river in Orazen, the capital of Black Scale, and even just slightly upstream, the river was narrow but deep, ensuring an abundant water flow. Here, the Lizardmen created waterwheels that they had learned to make from Automation. Waterwheels were used in place of manpower, so it could also replace the labor required to make paper. And according to the paper craftsman, the Renards didn’t have technology like waterwheels, making the process expensive even though they could make paper.
“Other than that, it’s easy. You then take the mush out with a fine mesh and dry it. The Renard craftsman did tell me how to make more durable paper in a shorter time, but that’s the overall process.”
Lakrak nodded.
If paper was made using wood and waterwheels, it would naturally be cheaper than silk. And if the paper could be more widely distributed, the use of writing would become more common, and trivial records would be made more often. Lakrak was already living in an era of recorded history.
‘Nothing will be forgotten.’
Still, the records weren’t perfect. If paper wore out, someone could copy the writing down on a different piece of paper, but if the original record became fully damaged, there was no way to restore it.
But first, there was a need to strengthen their national defense against foreign enemies.
“Zaol, I also have something to show you.”
“What is it?”
As Lakrak took the paper into the tent, Zaol followed him.
“…I thought there was nothing to worry about. I thought that with you as my wise companion, with my warriors following me, and with God looking over me, I would be able to fight and defeat any enemy we encounter.”
“You’re not wrong.”
Lakrak nodded in agreement.
“But…you, me, my warriors, and even God…can’t be everywhere at the same time.”
“That’s not wrong either.”
“If the enemies attack us in two groups again like the battle we just had… Yes. I might just have to run faster. But if there are three, four enemies? What are we going to do then, Zaol?”
“…Hm.”
“Here’s what I think.”
Lakrak found a piece of charcoal and began to draw on the paper.
Zaol quickly recognized what it was.
“It’s a map.”
Lakrak nodded.
He drew a line in the place that could be called the border. The line crossed through the wilderness, mountains, and rivers. He drew the line with such confidence, indicating that no one and nothing could stop him, the king of Black Scale. 𝘳.𝑐ℴ
Zaol raised her head and asked, “What is that?”
Lakrak replied, “It’s the barricade I’m going to build.”
1. The author used monopoly for the first term and bidding for the second, but based on context, it’s not.
𝑖𝘦.𝑐𝘰𝘮