When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

Chapter 1133 Why can't I be the one riding the wave of opportunity?
Even at nine o'clock at night, when most city residents had already turned off their lights and gone to sleep, the area around the Holy Advent Hall was still brightly lit.

The broken light swayed back and forth in front of the glass goblet and silver mirror, reflecting a mesmerizing array of colors.

Under the fluorescent streetlights surrounding the square, one can always see citizens awkwardly climbing onto carriages or riding away on horseback.

However, most of them would go to a cheap hotel nearby to sleep and then go home the next morning.

Because the unlit areas of J.J. D'Arcy are considered a no-night zone, they are patrolled by night watchmen.

However, knowing that Moloka was eager to return home, Palak lent him his pass and carriage.

As for Palak himself, he could simply find a small hotel to get some sleep.

After leaving Hajimego Restaurant, Moloka still had a blueberry mung bean cake packed in her arms.

This is a specialty snack from Hajimego Restaurant. It can last all day, so it's perfect to bring back for everyone at the Armory Apartments to try.

"Hey, wait a minute." Palak, his face slightly flushed from drinking, chased after them. "Moloca, do you have any men who know how to farm butterfly shrimp?"

To be honest, there are many immigrants from France, and quite a few of them know how to do aquaculture.

After all, in this era of the empire, even in France, farming alone could barely provide enough to eat.

Therefore, in addition to farming, most farmers have one or two other side jobs or skills.

"Yes, there are seven or eight."

“That’s perfect. My brother Grossian is about to try his hand at butterfly shrimp farming. I can introduce you to him.”

"Ah, thank you so much."

"It's no trouble at all!" Palak waved his hand. "If you've thought it through, be sure to tell me."

"That is required."

Before boarding the carriage, Moloka glanced back and saw Palak still standing at the door, his hands clasped together, waving at him from afar.

Seeing Parac return to the restaurant through the car window, Moloka felt both touched and somewhat envious of Parac.

Parakfly was just a shop assistant in a sesame oil shop in J.J.B., who didn't even have a surname.

During the war in which the Holy Alliance, then known as the Salvation Army, marched south to attack Jinhe Township, they made their fortune through all-in bonds.

First, he contracted a fishpond, and then he and his cousin Grossien started selling and raising fresh fish.

Riding the wave of the increased demand for meat per capita in the Holy Alliance after the war, it soared to new heights, and then decisively devoted itself to the sales and trade of the Holy Alliance's First Textile Factory.

He is now a director of three chambers of commerce and even a representative of the Council of State, making him quite well-known in the Järntenberg area.

Even within the Holy Alliance, they would definitely be considered upper-middle class.

Moreover, unlike ordinary merchants in Fran, his achievement in the Holy Alliance already places him among the true upper-middle class.

The reason I say this is...

Moloka sighed.

In Frankfurt, the predecessors of the Old Ponte Möllenstein in Moloca had already accomplished this.

Some of them even do better and are richer than Palack.

But those with money but no power are easy prey in the eyes of the French nobles.

If you don't complete the exchange of power and money and find a suitable powerful backer during the newbie protection period, then you will inevitably be devoured alive.

You can't find powerful figures through bribery alone; the only way is to sell your soul to them.

As far as Moloca knew, there was an island in the middle of Autumn Flower Lake outside Flower Hill City.

The island was filled with orphans who had been trafficked from all over the world. They were both boys and girls, no more than 12 years old, and their only thing in common was their beauty.

Most of the banquets hosted by powerful and wealthy brokers are held on this beautiful island.

As for who's behind this island...

Let's put it this way: Charles VIII and Lorenzo have disliked this island for a long time.

But so far, all I feel is dissatisfaction.

Whenever he thinks of this, Moloka can't help but recall the late El Empire—an empire that was both incredibly prosperous and incredibly decadent.

In the final moments of his life, he was plunged into endless darkness.

Has Franco already reached this state?
Sitting in the dark carriage, moonlight illuminating Moloka's face, he closed his eyes slightly and couldn't help but think:
What would it be like if Palack's identity were switched to Fran's?
Let's put aside whether he can take off on bonds, because bonds in Frankfurt are rarely redeemed.

Ordinary people who buy bonds have a much lower chance of receiving payment than those who win the Saint Union lottery.

Even if Palak reaches his current position, his next step will inevitably be to curry favor with the powerful and wealthy.

Because they have money but no power, they will be severely harassed by petty officials and local judges during their rise in power.

Therefore, they had to quickly buy official positions, arrange marriages, endure humiliation, and spend one or two generations integrating into the French aristocratic circle.

The amount of money he spent during this period was quite staggering, as he needed to purchase a large amount of real estate and luxury goods.

Those who acquire wealth solely through trade and labor are looked down upon in the upper echelons of Frankish society; only the purely rentier class who do not work are considered "noble."
Only when they reached this point did they finally gain the power to complete transactions involving power and money.

Many local nobles and oligarchs in France rose to power through this tactic.

The dangers, luck, and infighting within the upper echelons of the circle can eliminate one group of people after another.

This is one of the reasons why industrial and commercial development in France is slowing down.

The circle has grown larger, but the Franco elites have been using the money to plunder new talent.

In other words, it means constantly overdrawing on the future and exhausting resources to achieve current prosperity.

Moloca rubbed his knees, his gaze distant, as if looking at his hometown of Fran.

Could it be that Saint Union's rapid industrial and commercial development is due to Saint Union using most of its surplus to expand and enlarge the pie, while Fran uses most of its surplus to compete and distribute the pie even more?

What if those emerging workshop owners and merchants used their main profits for further development instead of bribery?

Perhaps, without Horn or even Charles VIII, Leia could have been defeated in the first Battle of Windmills?

But those are all just beautiful illusions!

Fran can still fight against the Holy Alliance with its old resources now, but what about the future?

Those emerging industries in France will only become fish for the upper echelons to catch within the country.

There is only a one in ten thousand chance of hooking up with a powerful figure to get ashore, and one must endure all kinds of humiliation in order to become one of the anglers.

So where these emerging industry owners will go is self-evident.

While the French economy was booming, the upper classes inexplicably couldn't find any new avenues for wealth creation.

But they don't understand that it was caused by their destruction of the underlying industrial and commercial ecosystem in France.

In their eyes, isn't it because you're not working hard enough?

If you don't work hard, there will be others who will. The Holy Alliance works very hard, after all.

As a result, Fran's elites and funds surged toward the Holy Alliance.

At the current rate of development of the Holy Alliance, it is estimated that it will catch up with France in a hundred years, no, fifty or sixty years.

Moloca was a Franco, and he both loved and hated the Franco.

He loved the culture, food, romance, and beautiful natural scenery of France, but hated the laziness, decadence, and oppressive nature of the French people.

During the day, he would lavish praise on the Holy Alliance to suppress his unease.

In the dead of night, he still often felt the heartache of betraying his hometown.

But after talking with Palak today and hearing about his experiences and past, Moloka suddenly felt that his heartache was somewhat absurd.

“How can a country be managed well when it’s with those nobles?” Moloca looked out the car window at the moonlight. “I think France is doomed sooner or later.”

Consider Palac's experience: ten years ago he was just an oil salesman, but ten years later he is a local tycoon.

Moloka is now a refugee and a small business owner. Can't he take advantage of the rise of the Holy Alliance?

(End of this chapter)