There can't be a Harvest Moon in the RimWorld.

As we turned a corner, the old man in the floral shirt from the Craftsmen's Association appeared before us once again.

"Distinguished guest, welcome to our humble workshop area. If you are interested, I can show you around."

I replied to him in a muffled voice, "No need. With Baldy leading the way, I can easily get out of here. I have no interest in visiting your rather shabby place."

The old man in the floral shirt looked quite embarrassed, standing in front of us, unsure whether to advance or retreat. He had no choice but to bite the bullet and say again, "Where are you going? I would be honored to show you the way..."

During this process, the bald man felt embarrassed to pretend to be mute any longer, so he quickly stepped forward and whispered to the old man, "Master, Boss Seven has his own ideas. If you keep stopping him like this, there's no guarantee that something might happen."

The old man in the floral shirt glared at him before reluctantly stepping aside and standing cautiously by the roadside, watching me intently.

I waved my hand, signaling to the bald man to stop talking nonsense.

"Baldy, do you think your master is here to spy on us on the lord's orders?"

The bald man blushed and looked at his master in surprise: "Could it be... could it be? Otherwise, why would Master keep blocking the way?"

I snorted coldly: "Of course not. Look behind you, that gray-robed man in the distance is the lord's spy. He is both a spy and proof of our identity, which is why I didn't crush his head."

Then I glanced at the old man: "And your master was ordered to come and find out what we have to say, right?"

The old man bowed his head and said cautiously, "Your Excellency... Your Excellency is wise. I did come here for friendly exchanges, as many things were not clear up earlier. The lord hopes we can continue our discussions here..."

As the bald man stared in disbelief, the old man's voice grew softer and softer.

The bald man lowered his voice and said, "Master, you revealed your purpose so easily. Are you really not afraid of death?"

In his mind, the old man would die if he failed to find out what was going on, and he would also die if he leaked the lord's orders. So, by openly revealing his identity, wouldn't he be doomed from both ends?

I pointed at the old man and said, "Have you forgotten? He's our mysterious ally. How could I possibly let him die without a doubt?"

"Allies? What do you mean?" The bald man was completely confused this time.

“Do you remember the analysis of the territory situation I gave you? Now that we have completely offended the armed groups, we are the natural allies of the artisans, without a doubt. The lord has seen through this long ago, but he does not consider it a betrayal.”

"Isn't this betrayal?" the bald man retorted.

“Of course not,” I said firmly. “What is betrayal? Privateers colluding with the pirates of Sabre Bay to sell out the interests of the territory is betrayal. The artisan forces, on the other hand, stand in opposition to the armed groups and naturally represent the softer side of the territory.”

"Excessive rigidity leads to breakage; only by combining strength and flexibility can one remain invincible. Therefore, the Craftsmen's Association is an indispensable part of the territory. Now that the territory has developed to this point, it is no longer the era where fighting and killing could solve problems."

"Therefore, at this time, the Craftsmen's Association must come and will definitely come to contact us. This is the Lord's intention. Can it be considered a betrayal? Do we think that craftsmen have to take up arms and go to the battlefield to fight to the death to be considered good residents? I don't think so."

Actually, there's something else I haven't said. That is, the erosion by capital has far exceeded the imagination of the lord of the Loader's Territory.

He probably thought these craftsmen were just a group of tools he was very good at using. Because they were very useful and the cost of training them was relatively high, he never killed the craftsmen indiscriminately. He only issued a conscription order to draw strength from them and secretly weakened his control.

In reality, these artisans who survived to the later stages had already surpassed the power of the armed forces. Furthermore, their potential for development far exceeded that of their rivals.

People say that Li Shimin's ruthless move of launching the Xuanwu Gate Incident demonstrated that his decisiveness far surpassed that of Li Jiancheng, making him worthy of being emperor. But ask yourself, if Li Jiancheng hadn't been so powerful and flawless, suppressing Li Shimin's power for so long, would he have needed to take such a risk—a risk that could lead to eternal infamy and the execution of his entire family?

In the same circumstances, the privateers risked everything to eliminate Ten Pine Manor, likely to sever the artisans' access to foreign trade and weaken their development potential. Unfortunately, after this action, their actions were exposed due to a careless move, and the lord had already become suspicious of them.

The Craftsmen's Guild did nothing to severely weaken their rivals' power and gain the lord's trust. Trust is a comparative thing; this time, their rivals' blunder meant they had won another round.

"I know what you need."

Capital itself is weak, but it will disguise itself with all sorts of shells.

"But tell me first, let me see what price you can offer?"

Chapter 339 Demon's Whispers

Here, we must first clarify a concept: what is the bourgeoisie?

For example, during the Age of Exploration, enormous amounts of overseas wealth flowed from the New World to the Old World of Europe, and quickly formed a huge new class outside the original aristocratic system, which history books call the bourgeoisie.

This statement is actually misleading, making people think that they are rich, but that's not the case. Only a small portion of the wealthy are outside the nobility; the majority are ordinary people.

For example, with the increasing maritime trade, wouldn't there be more and more sailors? Sailors would need to carry beer while at sea, otherwise the fresh water would quickly spoil, wouldn't that require a large number of brewers? With so many ships, wouldn't there be a need for shipbuilding and maintenance? And wouldn't maintenance require a large number of carpenters and blacksmiths?

If you keep going, you'll find that there are more and more people like the later working class, but they weren't called workers at the time, they were called the "craftsmen class". They had their own means of production, so they were different from the later workers. The core of the bourgeoisie was this group of people.

The model of the Loader's Territory is very similar to that of the Age of Exploration. The original military nobles relied on factional support and plunder to acquire enormous wealth, which enabled them to build this town and create a stable production environment. This wealth and resources, along with the enormous demands of war, spurred the emergence of these artisans like mushrooms after rain.

This makes it easy to understand why enormous wealth ended up in the hands of people outside the military nobility. The nobles didn't care about or could do these dirty and tiring jobs, so they naturally had to find some agents to handle matters outside of war.

However, this emerging group was different from the plundered slaves. They were interconnected, gathered in the city, and belonged to the same guilds, often engaging in friendly exchanges in their spare time. This class was relatively unaffected in its early years, but sooner or later it would develop into a force that would challenge the imperial power and the nobility.

I'm quite looking forward to seeing what audacious ideas this old man might come up with... If they develop to the point where they dare to confront lords and military nobles head-on, then I wouldn't mind lending them a hand and playing the role of Napoleon.

Why did Napoleon represent the bourgeoisie during the French Revolution? If you look at Napoleon's life, you'll find he never actually belonged to the bourgeoisie. How could someone who wielded cannons become a representative of the bourgeoisie?

But this is also what we often say: politics is a matter for a group of people.

The emerging bourgeoisie thought he was capable of fighting and could help them achieve their goals, so they sent representatives to contact him and agreed that the bourgeoisie would support him and that he would enact laws that would benefit the bourgeoisie, such as abolishing the privileges of the nobility, publicizing the use of tax revenue, and preventing one group from unconditionally bullying another. This thing is the Napoleonic Code.

The elderly man in the floral shirt rubbed his hands excitedly when he heard me speak, and said cautiously, "Honorable guest, due to the loss of Shisong Manor, we now have a large number of goods that we cannot sell... I wonder if you can find customers to buy these goods?"

...That's it?

I really overestimated these people. I thought they were inviting me to be Napoleon, but it turns out I'm not a political spokesperson, but a business spokesperson? The kind who tries to attract clients? How about I introduce you to Taobao, JD.com, and Pinduoduo?

Seeing my silence, the old man in the floral shirt quickly added, "We can offer 30%... no... 50% profit! If we can sell in large quantities, we can offer even higher dividends!"

It seems that their capitalist development is still in its early stages. The mismatch between supply and demand in the early stages led them to blindly expand production, resulting in a quagmire of involution, continuous price declines, increased inventory pressure, and a major crisis in the industrial chain.

Although the privateers' attack went awry, it still had a significant impact on the artisans, hitting them right where it hurt.

They are still in the early stages of bourgeois development. These primitive industrial bourgeoisie have not yet imagined holding power and are in a disadvantaged position. The development of manufactories and the primitive accumulation of capital have led to the widespread prevalence of mercantilist ideas.

This is easy to understand. Everyone is producing products, but there also needs to be buyers and sellers to facilitate circulation in order to generate profits. Therefore, the importance of commerce is becoming increasingly prominent. That's why they are pinning their hopes on me, hoping that I can find a stable buyer.

“I’ve heard that in other places, there are even space trading ships that trade with them, or at the very least, various caravans that travel between territories. But here, we only have one caravan of merchants passing by every six months, and they don’t even buy anything… I thought there would be a war in the first half of the year, so I had a thousand weapons forged. If I keep putting it off, they’ll rust by the rainy season…”

The old man in the flowery clothes kept describing his difficulties, his eyes constantly glancing at me, as if hoping to glean a clue from the cold stone mask.

"Trade routes are scarce in this area, and space traders are unlikely to be interested in your basic handicrafts."

I, however, didn't mince words. I suspected he was dreaming; if I could summon a space merchant ship, the first thing it would do is pick me up and take me away from this godforsaken place forever!

"I'm sorry..."

The old man in the floral shirt abruptly stopped rambling, looking utterly disappointed. I suspected he had heard the rumors from the one-eyed middle-aged man that I was backed by a powerful "ancient" company, and that my confident boasting about "that person" had misled him, further confirming my extraordinary identity.

I slammed my steel halberd on the ground, the clanging sound drawing his attention: "Go back and tell your master that my southern territory will not be a barbaric military fortress like yours. A bandit's den and a pirate port are already chaotic enough; I don't want to provoke any more unnecessary conflict."

"So what is your consciousness...?"

"I will establish a permanent neutral zone in the south, where anyone who abides by my rules can come in, trade and live freely, and I will be their guarantee of safety."

These nascent members of the bourgeoisie currently lack a favorable business environment. The lord of the Loader's Territory is an outsider in business, has always adhered to a military-first policy, and has a strong policy of exclusion towards artisans.

What I know is that the business environment in this region is so harsh that it is impossible to achieve miracles through foreign trade. All they can hope for is continuous expansion and deepening within the region, and constant innovation in the industrial chain, in order to create a business atmosphere that is most suitable for the unique environment of the Riegemi shrub desert.

Finally, I made a devilish invitation in a low, guttural voice.

"This last sentence is for you alone—I will also establish a bonded port area, where no taxes will be levied on commercial activities within the territory."

“There, you have enough freedom to protect your property, follow your own ideas, and even learn to disobey the lord’s orders…”

Chapter 340 Slave Area

“What you need is not buyers or trading companies, but the right to free trade. If you haven’t found it yet, that’s okay, because you haven’t felt the value of freedom yet. But once you see the place I’m talking about, you will know exactly what you want.”

I patted the old man on the shoulder and spoke to him earnestly.

The old man in the floral shirt stood there, staring at me with shifting eyes. He opened his mouth as if he had a lot to say, but in the end, he only managed to utter one question.

"You mean... we can all go? There are no immigration requirements?"

I smiled slightly, my heart unmoved—of course, anyone could come to the free trade zone, not only merchants from the Loader's Territory, passing caravans, but even pirates from Sabre Bay.

These artisans are still worried about not being able to sell their goods, simply because they haven't correctly understood their own role. They still see themselves as mere manufacturers and suppliers of goods for their territory, but in reality, they are capable of doing far more than that.

A competent capitalist, given the right price, would even sell the rope that led him to hang himself. Their conscience has constrained their development; they haven't yet learned to profit from both the upstream and downstream partners.

If they want to make money, they should coordinate the interests of the entire operation after expanding production, and win over the upper echelons of the Loaders' Command and Sabre Bay to create a stable interest group.

In this situation, these artisans can create a booming hot war market in the region. The more intense the fighting, the more money everyone makes. Whether it's the military leaders, the territorial chiefs, or the investors behind the scenes, they will do everything they can to keep the fighting intense but controllable, so that the market doesn't cool down.

This situation is actually a form of self-destruction, where the life force is overdrawn far outweighs the benefits gained. However, unlike peaceful development, this kind of ill-gotten money can be concentrated and quickly concentrated in the hands of a few people.

As the pie of peaceful development continues to grow, the number of people sharing it will also increase, eventually causing the pie to collapse because there are too many people to eat it.

At times like these, a war between power and class inevitably breaks out, with those unable to protect their own property rapidly concentrating their riches. It's a free-for-all, a race to see who can eat and digest the spoils fastest.

What if we eat them all one day?

This will certainly happen, but these bourgeoisie are often able to quickly upgrade their wealth, pulling them out of this fragmented region and into another, more prosperous place to realize their dreams of wealth.

I looked at the sky and suddenly fell silent.

The situation I'm describing has probably happened more than once on this planet, hasn't it? The forces left behind in the wilderness are simply repeating the path of the victors of yesteryear, competing with each other like raising poisonous insects, vying for the final, sole victor who will have the right to leave this place.

They could be a force, a class, a group, or even just an individual.

The remaining people had to start all over again, staring blankly at the sky in this place that had once again become destitute, living in the world without any hope.

…………

I had assumed that the people in these wastelands were a group of people without dreams or hope, but it wasn't until I entered the area where slaves lived that I discovered there were many people in this place who were even more desperate than they were.

Without dreams and hopes, they would only lead a mediocre life. But at least they still have hope for life in their eyes, and they will live on forever in this place, baring their teeth and brandishing their claws.

The slaves before me, in their empty eyes, only had dark pupils and evasive gazes. It was the gaze of tamed beasts, their lives and deaths controlled by others, their destinies manipulated, a pathetic existence devoid of any will to live.

"Baldy, have you never been here before?"

The bald man behind me lowered his eyes and said in a low voice, "No... Master said that this place is full of lazybones, and he has never hired them to help. I have lived in a town residential area since I was a child, and I have never been here before."

To come in here? Of course not.

In the eastern part of the loader's territory, only a small area belonged to the slaves, consisting of several rows of thatched huts built close together to save space. There was no designated place for urination or defecation, resulting in filthy stains and a stench that permeated the area.

A sturdy tower stands there, with a simple watchtower, which should be the management office here, as can be seen from the several desiccated corpses on the tower.

The corpses were tightly chained and hung upside down from the protruding corner of the tower. They had been dried out for an unknown amount of time, and even passing birds had no interest in pecking at them, treating them merely as dry branches.

The old man in the flowery clothes and the man in the gray robe had already walked ahead of us and entered the tower. Then, a fat, big-eared soldier ran out of the tower.

Such obesity is rare in this colony, given the scarcity of resources and produce; people rely on high-fiber foods to survive. To gain weight, one needs large amounts of carbohydrates and fat. It's truly baffling how he developed such a massive amount of fat, almost impossible to fit into his armor.

"Dear guest! I heard you've come to select slaves? I'm so sorry for not welcoming you properly!"