Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 141 Institutional Arbitrage
Whether the militia in Parathu are legally considered "laborers" or "soldiers" is irrelevant to other ethnic groups—they are all just there to do work anyway.

But for Dussac, it was a completely different story.

If the militia are "soldiers," then Dusak's service as a militiaman could offset his years of service, even though the militiamen actually did the work of laborers.

This was Brother Reid's idea; after the old mendicant monk drank two bottles of wine, he couldn't keep his mouth shut anymore.

The Dusaks who are still alive today swore an oath with Marshal Ned thirty years ago to formally submit to the Republic of Palatine, and eventually settled down and multiplied into the Dusaks of the newly reclaimed land.

Their descendants will also take the oath again when they reach adulthood and enlist in the military.

However, all the oaths only mention "eternal loyalty" and "service," without specifying the exact form of service, which leaves room for interpretation.

For Dussac, serving in the military meant being a soldier, killing people, and wielding a saber to hack away—it was a matter of course.

They did not realize that there were huge loopholes in the system—militiamen are also soldiers, and serving in the militia is the same as military service.

For every day Dusak joins the militia, his future term of service can theoretically be shortened by one day.

Although it is essentially taking advantage of a loophole, Dussacks would be happy because the risk of them serving in the military has been reduced;

The other four villages in Wolf Town were also happy because they needed to send fewer people.
Winters was also pleased because he had turned a bad thing into something that was both good and bad.
The only one who was unhappy was probably the Republic of Platu, but the Republic was ruled by a clumsy, huge, and bloated power system.

It is too slow to notice, so slow that it takes a long time to realize that there is a small bleeding wound on its body. It is unlikely that it would make a big fuss over being taken advantage of.

This operation of "turning civilians into soldiers" is proudly called "system arbitrage".

The old man even had more outrageous tricks: the prerequisite for Dusak to be granted land was to complete a term of service, but the definition of a term of service was also vague. Serving in the militia auxiliary force and the automatic end of service after the militia auxiliary force was disbanded, does that not count as "completing a term of service"?
And there are even more outrageous and extreme measures: the Told Agreement stipulates that in times of emergency, the garrison commander has the right to conscript civilians under his jurisdiction to form a militia.

But what constitutes an emergency? The Tord Agreement does not provide a detailed explanation, and the right to interpret it is automatically delegated to the resident officer.

Township-level militia teams are also militia, legally equivalent to militia recruited by the army corps. Therefore, "serving" in a township-level militia team is also considered military service.

Therefore, in theory, Winters could directly declare "the situation in Wolftown is urgent" and establish a paper militia to serve the young Dussacs until they are granted land.

The old charlatan's endless tricks left Lieutenant Montagne bewildered and speechless. The poor lieutenant had been living a disciplined life since he was nine, attending the Army Junior School, and had never seen an "arbitrageur" ​​like Reed who could exploit every loophole in the system to the extreme.

Compared to other arbitrage schemes, the initial method seemed childish and hardly constituted taking advantage of public funds.

“But you’d better watch out, kid. The last two moves aren’t just drawing blood with a knife; they’re chopping off your toes with a big axe!” Brother Reid reminded Winters even as he was getting drunk: “They’re forcing the government to close the loopholes, and that will definitely invite retaliation. So don’t go too far. Let Dusak serve as a militiaman to accumulate some years of service, which will solve the problem of the militia’s source. If the higher-ups question you later, you’ll have something to say.”

However, the old monk was clearly overthinking things, because the mere tactic of "converting civilians into soldiers" had already thoroughly shattered the lieutenant's worldview. As for more radical and greedy institutional arbitrage, Winters hadn't even considered it.

Winters wasn't expecting to change the way of life of the Dusa people; he was content to make a small contribution to Wolf Town. At the Gervodan garrison, he received a satisfactory reply.

……

Major Ronald was initially hesitant, but Captain Epper, the garrison's archives chief, cited an eight-year-old case to support Winters's claim.

Eight years ago, in Xiaoshi Town, also under the jurisdiction of Tiefeng County, the garrison officer urgently conscripted Dusak to form a militia to suppress bandits. During the process, an underage Dusak was unfortunately killed in battle.

According to Dusak custom, one reaches adulthood and enters military service at the age of twenty. However, in rural areas, marriage occurs earlier, and many Dusaks have children before reaching adulthood, serving in the military, or being granted land.

The underage Dusak who died in the bandit suppression in Little Stone Town left behind a son, a daughter, and a widow.

After the bandit suppression ended, the militia was disbanded, and the Dussacs of Little Stone Town went to the garrison headquarters to petition.

It is hoped that the Legion will recognize the underage Dusak who died in the bandit suppression as "died in service".

Because if a Dusak who had not been granted land died in service, his son could inherit a share of the land until he reached adulthood; otherwise, his death would be in vain.

The petition was eventually delivered to Lieutenant General Ferenc, the then-corps commander. Ferenc was deeply moved when he learned that the petitioner, Dussac, had been pierced by several arrows but had fought bravely to kill the enemy until his death.

The lieutenant general personally approved the classification of the dead as "died in action while serving," and also classified the wounded as "wounded while serving," awarding them commendations.

This case from eight years ago provides support for Winters's claims.

Even if the case were to be debated in a military court, the precedent set by Lieutenant General Ferenc would have to be overturned first in order to dismiss Winters's claim.

Winters was completely unaware that such an incident had occurred eight years prior, but since there was already a similar precedent, it was certainly the best course of action.

Major Ronald considered for a long time before reluctantly saying to Winters and Girard, "This time, the conscription will be done as you wish, but whether future conscriptions can be done this way... I need to ask Legion Headquarters first."

All Dussac records in the county are kept by the garrison, and Major Ronald, as the highest military commander of Iron Peak County, has a considerable degree of autonomy.

He nodded, and that was the end of it.

Winters was also very excited, after all, he had not thought about what would happen in the future, and everyone, including himself, thought that Winters Montagne would not stay in Palatour for long.

As Major Ronald saw Winters and Girard off, he sighed inadvertently, "Sons are not their parents' creditors, but they can suck their parents' blood even more than creditors."

"Hmm? The major only agreed because of Mr. Mitchell?" Winters's mind raced.

He looked at Gerard, only to find that old Dussac was ashen-faced and silent.

"Senior, thank you for your help today."

As Winters stepped out of the garrison compound, he sincerely thanked Captain Eppel. If the captain hadn't cited the case, he wouldn't have been able to persuade Major Ronald so easily.

To everyone's surprise, Captain Epper simply replied, "I'm not trying to help you, I'm just stating the facts. But if you ask me, Mr. Mitchell's influence is more useful."

After speaking, the captain greeted the two men and then turned back to the garrison building.

Only Winters and Girard remained outside the courtyard wall, along with two horses.

"Lieutenant, do you want the kids to join the militia now and coast along, so they won't have to serve as soldiers when they're adults?" Girard asked impatiently as soon as the captain left.

Winters noticed the unusual mood in old Dussac: "It can't be called just loafing around. Serving in the militia auxiliary force is the same as serving under the law."

"I disagree! This is exploiting loopholes! It's opportunism! It's theft!" For the first time since they met, Girard roared at Winters, "Dusak is a hero who would rather rob than steal! When it's time to do his duty, he should do it honestly; if he doesn't want to do his duty, then he should fucking rebel! Absolutely not! Absolutely not! We swore a blood oath with the old marshal!"

Girard, who was usually all smiles, suddenly had an emotional outburst, and Winters didn't know what to do: "Don't worry, all of this is legal and compliant."

“But what about our conscience? What about the blood oath we swore? God is watching from the clouds!” As he spoke, old Dussac grew increasingly dejected, like a punctured balloon. He muttered to himself, “No one wants to send their own son to the battlefield, so why should I care what other people’s sons do? Ah, you young people, do as you please…”

“It’s my fault for taking the initiative without consulting you beforehand.” Winters was touched by old Dussac’s emotions and said apologetically, “If you don’t think it’s right, let’s just pretend this never happened, and I won’t tell anyone else when I get back.”

“Child, I know you mean well.” Gerard grasped Winters’s hand, using the word “son” for the first time. “I’ll go back and tell the other Dussacs; they should be very happy. Ah, you young people… do as you please.”

Girard wearily mounted his horse, silently cracked his whip, and rode away.

Winters never expected that such a good thing would make old Dussac so excited. He stood there stunned for a long time before leaping onto his horse and catching up from behind.

……

……

The delivery of the goods from Wolf Town Manor in Revodan went very smoothly.

This year has been a good year, with favorable weather conditions, so there have been no defaults.

In addition to the produce that the major merchants had pre-ordered, the various manors in Wolf Town also harvested a considerable amount of extra crops. These were all transported over this time and, after some bargaining, were also bought up by the major merchants.

Crops like sugar beets would be roughly processed locally in Gévaudan, while the transport of goods from Gévaudan to the provincial capital and further cities was handled by the merchant caravans.

The harvest season was thus completely over, and the plantation owner suddenly found himself with a large sum of cash.

Some of it was used to purchase necessities for the following year's production in Gervodan, such as coal, iron farm implements, and timber.

Another portion needed to be paid to the hired laborers, but their wages were mainly paid in the form of food rather than gold or silver.

The landowner would take the money back and then buy grain from the Dusa people, who had plenty of land and a surplus of grain production, which was the most profitable way.

Of course, as compensation for the arduous work during the harvest season, each worker would also receive a bonus—though the amount was not fixed and depended on the quality of the employer. Some ambitious plantation owners, however, immediately set off for their settlements, eager to secure more land before the others.

For example, the Benting family, where the Bentings raised five sons and two daughters, was a miracle in that era.

Considering the future division of the family property by their son and the dowry for their daughter, they also urgently desired more land.

The profits are thus reinvested in a cycle of acquiring more land, with no end in sight.

According to Winters' observation, most of the money in the hands of the plantation owners was turned into consumer goods: fine wines, snow-white sugar, beautiful furniture, densely striped cotton fabrics... and so on.

Gold and silver coins slip through your fingers like fine sand, bringing only material pleasures.

Winters also discovered a very interesting phenomenon: Wolf Town produces cotton, hemp, and wood, but finished products such as furniture and fabrics still have to be bought from Gervadane.

Each estate only produces raw materials, but has no ability to process them—except for tobacco.

The manor economy is actually particularly fragile, heavily reliant on a developed commercial system. Without outside merchants to purchase goods, the cycle of planting cash crops on each manor would immediately collapse.

However, none of this concerned him; he simply drew his own conclusions from the perspective of an observer.

His biggest concern right now is Veneta's condition, so during the few days the convoy stayed in Gévordan, he visited every single trading company in Gévordan.

Charles and Gold had set off from Aquamarine long ago and were not very clear about the current situation. Moreover, Charles's perspective was still limited, and Gold was unwilling to elaborate, resulting in Winters obtaining very little useful information from them.

But one truth was self-evident to Winters, who came from a commercial republic: merchants are always the best at getting information, no matter when or where.

Although the information he received was slightly different, it still made Winters very worried.

All intelligence indicates that the standoff between the United Provinces and Venetta—the twin powers of the alliance—is not cooling down, but rather intensifying.

The merchants of Gevodan had heard that on the Inland Sea, the fleets of Venetta and the United Provinces would intercept, inspect, and seize each other's merchant ships.

There are even rumors that the two navies are disguising themselves as pirates to rob each other's ships—of course, some merchants say that the navy is now too busy to deal with pirates, which has allowed the pirates, who had been quiet after the destruction of the Tanilia Federation, to become rampant again.

As a result, today, no merchant ship on the inland sea dares to fly the tulip flag or the crimson flag anymore. Ships instead fly the imperial flag for self-protection.

[The Tulip Flag and the Crimson Blood Flag are the navigation flags of the United Provinces and Venetia, respectively.]
Many more merchant ships simply sailed away from the inland sea or stayed in port to avoid trouble.

The once prosperous and bustling Cenas Bay has now become deserted and gloomy.

The Seine Sea, once hailed as a place brimming with gold, has now become a deadly waterway that sailors fear to speak of.

The land borders have long been closed, with only a few ports maintaining the remaining personnel exchanges.

The Union Congress and the Venetta Senate quickly passed one embargo bill after another, turning what was once virtually unrestricted intra-union trade into a situation where selling anything became illegal.

Now, trade between Venetta and the United Provinces can only be conducted via Paratu. Many Paratu merchants have made a fortune by transshipping goods, which makes merchants in the far southwestern city of Gevodan very envious.

Not seeing the Navarre Trading Company's sign in the city, Winters also inquired with the merchants of Gevordan and was surprised to find that the Navarre family's business was "known to everyone in the business world."

According to the warehouses that buy raw materials such as cotton and linen, their goods are sold to the Navarre Trading Company.

However, large trading companies only have branches in the provincial capitals and wait for other small trading companies to deliver goods to them; they do not come to the smaller cities below to collect the goods.

The reason is... similar to how the trading companies in Gévordan required the manor owners to transport goods to Gévordan. The roads were unsafe, so it was all to reduce risk.

Winters considered having the merchants of Tzevodan deliver a message to the Navarre Trading Company on his behalf, but after careful consideration, he decided not to do so.

He distrusted the merchants of Gevordan and the branches of the Navarre Trading Company, and even when writing letters, he could not include important information.

Now that he had already communicated with Hailan, he wasn't in a hurry to send a message back. Who knew if the Paratu people would simply hand his letter over to the Paratu army?

……

Time flies in the city of Gevordan.

Having lived in the open, quiet countryside for more than two months, I found it hard to adjust to returning to the city of Winters.

During the three days, in addition to running errands and inquiring about news from the business, Winters also went to the Gevordan Cathedral with the faithful to attend Mass on Sunday.

However, the lieutenant went to the cathedral with the mindset of a tourist and ended up quietly avoiding communion.

To be fair, the Gévordne Cathedral is indeed magnificent and splendid, and it has its merits even compared to the azure St. Mark's Basilica.

The towering arch seems to be about to smash into people's faces from above, making every passerby feel their own insignificance.

What truly moved Winters was not the miracles of God, but the wisdom that humanity displayed in its efforts to please the gods.

Looking at the cathedral in front of you, it's hard to imagine how the craftsmen built such a magnificent structure with simple tools like chisels, hammers, and pulleys.

In the eyes of Winters, a man from the blue sea, Ghevordan was hardly a wealthy city.

But for a city with only one or two thousand people to build such a cathedral, it's hard to say whether it's extravagance or waste, ignorance or piety.

Of course, what impressed Winters even more was the bishop of Gevordan’s magnificent vestments and the dazzling gold and silver artifacts on the altar.

The lieutenant couldn't help but think: Perhaps some of it was toll money collected by the old man at the bridgehead?
And just like that, three days passed quickly.

On the fourth day, it's time to start again from Wolf Town and return to that remote, secluded, but lovely border town.

However, an hour had passed since the agreed departure time, and nearly half of the people still hadn't shown up.

Gerard and Winters grew increasingly anxious as their companions urged the latecomer several times, but he still didn't arrive.

Winters was furious. He ordered the latecomer's companion to lead the way and stormed off with his saber in hand.

It wasn't until he came to their door that he understood why the person who led the way had hesitated to tell him directly—it was actually a brothel.

"Young master, who are you looking for?" The courtesan inside swayed her hips and smiled as she approached the lieutenant, even reaching out to put her arm around his waist: "Stay with us~"

Winters has never been subjected to this before.

With a livid face, he kicked open each door in turn, and whenever he saw someone from Wolf Town, he'd punch them awake and then whip them: "Good! You've spent all the money you earned at the brothel!"

With his face bruised and swollen, Dussac and his workers were dragged to the assembly point by Winters, and Girard understood immediately.

He asked with a stern face, "Haven't I said time and again that no reward money can be given if you don't go home? Have you all ignored me?"

He wasn't asking the people who went to brothels, but rather the estate owners around him.

Those whose gaze fell upon him all lowered their heads in shame. Vic Hoffman, the owner of Golden Harvest Manor, forced a smile and explained, "A few servants came to me asking to buy some things to take back, and I gave them to them without much thought. Besides, everyone is so tired from the journey; they deserve a little relaxation..."

"Shut up!" Girard roared, interrupting old Hoffman. "I won't listen to explanations! If you don't follow the rules, don't come with the caravan! Do it yourself! Don't you know that the farmhands rely on this one bonus to save up any money for the whole year?! Don't you know that the journey back is more dangerous than the journey here?!"

Vic Hoffman was startled by the sudden murderous aura emanating from old Dussac and dared not utter another word.

People and cars seemed to be mostly present, but after a careful count, there were still some missing.

Girard grabbed a worker by the collar and demanded, "Where is your master?"

"Reporting to you, sir, Master Benting went back yesterday." The captured laborer trembled. "He wanted to go back and claim land, and he told me not to tell you."

I've been a bit tired lately and haven't been feeling well.

But this chapter was the one I enjoyed writing the most; I couldn't stop once I started.

Thank you to all the readers who voted for the book before;
Thank you to readers Lao Tu Wu, Dan Ding De Hui Guo, and Jiang Xue Diao Weng for the monthly tickets, thank you everyone;
感谢书友20191007064305842、路过的二逼、红色的橙子ii、书友161120205936216、理想三旬的某大叔、正义纯洁是考拉、老土乌、种花家的黄兔子、没工作的屌丝、月夜之锋、开普勒B22、54月、behere370、天镜头的推荐票，谢谢大家，笔芯。

(End of this chapter)