PGTMD 18

Chapter 18.

Well, That Changes Things

How do I know?

Because I learned it while doing your recruitment quest.

I know that you founded the Golden Fleece Merchant Company to search for a certain artifact. I know that artifact is a holy relic of the Golden Scales. I know it’s hidden somewhere inside the Tower. I even know that’s why a High Priest like you disguised yourself as a mere courier in the Adventurers’ Guild.

…Though I obviously can’t say that.

Camellia didn’t bother racking her brain for a convincing excuse.

Instead, she simply smiled—a meaningful smile befitting an evil archmage lord who had lived for over a thousand years, one that suggested countless hidden schemes.

“Does that really matter?”

As though he had expected that answer, Nathaniel let out a small groan.

“Well now… If I said it does matter, you’d probably charge an outrageous price for the answer, wouldn’t you?”

“I can’t sell something cheaply when I know you’ll gladly pay a high price. That’s simply how negotiations work.”

Nathaniel puffed out his cheeks in obvious annoyance.

“Ah, truly spoken like a master negotiator. I doubt I’ll ever meet anyone better at bargaining than you, Employer.”

At the same time, the system window chimed.

Nathaniel Pragma’s Affection has increased.
Negotiating with the Lord is no easy task! +2

You complain with your mouth, but your affection meter is remarkably honest, Nathaniel.

That means I can keep pushing.

Maintaining her composed expression, Camellia continued.

“I have no intention of making you work for free. If you serve me for five years, I’ll reward you with a five-year entry permit, a three-year tax exemption, and one land trading license.”

Nidstar was no ordinary city.

It was the world’s only city that possessed a fully controllable dungeon.

The most stable source of mana stones.

The greatest producer of monster materials.

A luxury market overflowing with the gold spent by countless adventurers.

To allow a merchant company to establish a branch in such a city—and guarantee unrestricted business there for at least five years—

No merchant could possibly refuse.

Not even the Golden Fleece Merchant Company, one of the continent’s Ten Great Merchant Houses.

Even so, Nathaniel didn’t immediately accept.

Instead, he sighed dramatically.

“It’s certainly a tempting offer… perhaps too tempting. That’s exactly what makes it frightening. No matter how favorable the terms are, wouldn’t everything become meaningless the moment you changed your mind?”

“If you wish, I’ll draw up a contract notarized by the Golden Scales.”

“My, my. You trust me far too much. What if I tampered with the contract?”

“Someone like that could never become a High Priest of the Golden Scales.”

“Nor could such a person become the head of one of the continent’s Ten Great Merchant Companies.”

Nathaniel smiled brightly.

“You just keep saying things that are impossible to refuse. It’s becoming harder and harder not to accept.”

Despite his playful tone, his gaze was as sharp and calculating as someone weighing gold on a balance scale.

Camellia met that gaze without hesitation.

Her Mind Reading activated.

Nathaniel’s thoughts flowed into her mind.

Tsk. Just as expected from a monster who’s lived for a thousand years—I can’t read her at all. How far ahead has she planned? How much of this is deliberate? Don’t tell me she’s been setting this up ever since we signed that contract at the Adventurers’ Guild…?

A monster? That’s what you call your employer?

Still, aside from that, he wasn’t wrong.

From the moment she’d planned to recruit Nathaniel, Camellia had every intention of making full use of the background setting attached to his character.

She felt absolutely no guilt.

If one of your party members owns one of the Ten Great Merchant Companies, why wouldn’t you use it?

Especially when the Golden Scales’ strict contract laws ensured she’d never be cheated.

I didn’t expect I’d end up forcing the deal this directly, but plans rarely unfold exactly as intended.

Nathaniel was naturally suspicious.

But that was still far preferable to letting city administration bog her down and interfere with conquering the Tower.

If I don’t reach the top of the Tower within five years, surviving won’t mean much anyway. I don’t have the luxury of being picky.

She decided to relieve Nathaniel’s hesitation.

“Very well. If you’re truly unwilling, I’ll negotiate with another merchant company instead. Jehar, contact the Stardust Trading Company—”

“W-Wait! Hold on, Employer! I haven’t answered yet!”

Nathaniel hurriedly interrupted her, pretending to panic.

“Come on, don’t withdraw the offer just because I complained a little. That hurts, you know? And anyone but the Stardust Company, please. There’s no race more fickle and unreliable than the Thermorphs.”

Camellia merely looked at him.

Well?

Grumbling about how impatient she was, Nathaniel finally answered.

“…If you truly guarantee every condition you’ve mentioned, I won’t be able to gather everyone immediately, but within a month I can bring all the necessary personnel. A five-year contract is naturally acceptable.”

“But…”

“Will that really be enough?”

“Enough? I’m not sure what you mean.”

“What I mean is… are you really satisfied with simply managing things while leaving the current system untouched?”

“The tax structure hasn’t been updated in decades—perhaps centuries. The ledgers have no standardized format. The administrative authority is designed so poorly that corruption is practically inevitable.”

“If all you want is management without fixing any of that… is that truly enough?”

Jehar’s gaze toward Nathaniel turned noticeably colder.

He already disliked the priest, and now Nathaniel was openly telling Camellia how to govern her own territory.

Seriously, stop falling for the Lord already.

Thinking that, Camellia lightly tapped Jehar’s hand, silently telling him to remain patient before speaking.

“If I told you I wasn’t satisfied…”

“Would you have a way to fix it?”

Nathaniel nodded.

“There is one method.”

“It’s difficult.”

“It’s complicated.”

“And it takes a tremendous amount of time.”

“But in the long run, it’s unquestionably the most profitable solution.”

“So…”

“You want to rebuild the entire administrative foundation from scratch.”

“What else can you do when it’s this much of a mess?”

Glancing toward the ledgers they had brought as evidence against the chamberlain and the mayor, Nathaniel continued.

“If this were a vast territory with villages scattered days apart, that would be one thing.”

“But this is a tiny domain that can be crossed on horseback in a single day.”

“So why collect a poll tax?”

“You’d earn far more by lowering tolls and market taxes to stimulate commerce, then collecting taxes only on goods like cloth and grain—”

Seeing the explanation was about to become lengthy, Camellia interrupted.

“I understand your point. That’s enough.”

“Employer, please hear me out. The current tax structure has serious—”

“I said I understand.”

“You want to abolish the poll tax, raise indirect taxes instead, reduce taxpayer resistance, and improve tax collection efficiency.”

Nathaniel’s eyes became as round as gold coins.

Camellia asked calmly,

“Am I wrong?”

“N-No…”

“I mean… you actually understood?”

Of course I understood.

Poll taxes bad. Indirect taxes good.

To someone from the modern world, that was practically common sense.

And Nathaniel is right. Indirect taxation is ideal for a city-state like this.

If Nidstar had been an enormous territory with weak administrative control, things would be different.

But Nidstar was essentially a city-state.

It was surrounded by walls.

Its gates and harbor were tightly controlled.

Illegal immigration and smuggling were difficult.

Instead of sending officials door to door counting every resident to collect poll taxes, it was far more efficient to station tax collectors at the gates and harbor and collect tariffs and transaction taxes whenever goods entered the city.

It also fits perfectly with the city-development build I was planning.

Implementing it would require rebuilding the entire administrative system from the ground up, meaning the bureaucrats would suffer for a while.

But if Nathaniel and the Golden Fleece Merchant Company were willing to handle that work themselves, there was no reason to refuse.

“If you claim I understood something I didn’t, then perhaps.”

“But I did understand.”

“You have my permission to carry out the reforms as you see fit.”

“Just don’t collapse later complaining that there’s too much work.”

“…You understood…”

“And you’re still giving me permission?”

“Were you only making idle suggestions?”

Nathaniel looked genuinely stunned.

“N-No! Of course not!”

“If you authorize it, then naturally it’s my responsibility.”

“But…”

“…You’re really certain?”

“You truly don’t mind abolishing the poll tax?”

Instead of answering, Camellia simply nodded.

Nathaniel was sincerely shocked.

She’s actually agreeing?

The poll tax wasn’t just another tax.

It symbolized the Lord’s ownership over both the land and its people.

Many nobles wouldn’t bat an eye even if peasants killed their own children because they couldn’t afford it.

“They should have worked harder,” they’d say.

Even after painstakingly explaining indirect taxation, many nobles would respond,

“Then why not collect both?”

To them, trade meant giving up something in exchange for something of equal value.

And if increasing wealth required sacrificing even a little authority…

“That’s merchant thinking,” they would dismiss him.

Strictly speaking, they weren’t wrong.

Nobles collected.

They protected.

They did not bargain or calculate profits.

Yet here stood the Lord of Nidstar—the oldest noble house on the continent—

Willingly abandoning the poll tax.

And she immediately grasped the entire vision behind my administrative reforms.

Not an experienced merchant.

Not a veteran administrator.

A lord.

Does living for a thousand years naturally teach someone economics?

No… that can’t be it.

She hasn’t paid taxes herself for a thousand years.

She certainly hasn’t run a business.

So many impossible things had happened in succession that reality itself felt questionable.

When I infiltrated Nidstar… I’d prepared myself to die as a martyr if necessary.

Yet the Lord he actually met was completely unlike the rumors.

She was terrifying.

But she was also rational.

Although powerful enough to dominate others by force, as one would tame monsters, she always offered appropriate compensation and negotiated instead.

She clearly trusted him to honor contracts.

She even openly admitted that her own condition wasn’t entirely normal.

Yes, she’d shamelessly requested delayed payment.

But she’d never once violated the doctrines of the Golden Scales.

Whenever she sought advice or entrusted him with work, she guaranteed proper rewards and genuine autonomy.

Though… it’s not as if she’s rational in everything.

Making a maid into a knight was proof enough.

There was clearly some utterly insane plan inside her head that ordinary people simply couldn’t comprehend.

The way she’d dealt with the mayor and the head maid had been the same.

Rational…

Yet utterly unconventional.

Perhaps because of that…

The more Nathaniel watched her…

The more curious he became.

He simply couldn’t look away.

Just… what kind of person is she?

Reading every one of those thoughts through Mind Reading, Camellia inwardly sighed.

What kind of person?

Just an ordinary transmigrator who happens to be really good at this game.