Within Zariel's manor, which had been destroyed and rebuilt untold times, Zariel and Mammon stood gathered around a magic mirror, discussing business related to the soul bank.
At first, Zariel could still keep up, but as the conversation wore on, she began to feel a bit dizzy.
Everything Anbaixiu and Mammon were saying made sense when taken word by word, yet strung together, it turned into utter gibberish to her.
Looking thoroughly dismissive, Anbaixiu manipulated a Mage Hand to rip Mammon's proposal to shreds. That lending plan had been drawn up by a whole mob of goblin accountants, filled with figures daunting enough to make Zariel's head spin at a single glance.
Yet Anbaixiu tore it apart without a second thought. Mammon had to suppress his temper and ask, "And your reason?"
"The lending scheme those goblins designed is far too outdated—it completely fails to keep up with the times. We hold an overwhelming wealth advantage, yet you only think of traditional predatory lending to bleed people dry. Lending, lending, staring at that petty interest day in and day out! What good is calculating that piddling interest down to the last decimal? Rather than taking advantage of our massive principal to raise interest rates, we should cut them—massively cut rates—to devalue soul coins in the shortest possible time."
"Are you insane? Soul coins devaluing means we take the loss!" Mammon said in outrage.
Anbaixiu shook his head. "The devaluation of soul coins will force all the hell lords to stop hoarding them. We need their money in circulation—otherwise, why open a bank in the first place? As soul coins depreciate, they'll have to find ways to spend them. But they're already impoverished; what happens when they want to rebuild their fortresses or invest in other ventures and come up short on funds?
"Naturally, they'll turn to our bank for loans. We should offer low-interest loans and open the floodgates of credit to them! We can even issue bonds and have them pledge their fixed assets as collateral. Are we afraid they won't repay? With me here, are you worried there won't be enough soul coins? We are printing currency! The depreciation of soul coins is an inevitable future, and we should seize this opportunity to acquire far more."
Mammon frowned. "What point is there in that? In the end, soul coins still devalue, and our wealth won't increase by much. All it does is fatten up those hell lords. If any mishap befalls them and they default, we lose everything!"
Anbaixiu countered, "Broaden your perspective. At your current level of power and influence, piling up more soul coins is virtually meaningless to you. As rulers of individual layers of Hell, you hold authority over entire planes; soul coins can empower individual devils, but they cannot strengthen Hell as a whole. We should be after things normally beyond reach—like devils' loyalty, or genuine control over the lords serving under you.
"Cutting loan rates is merely the first step. Once the loans taken by these hell lords grow large enough and they grow accustomed to acquiring soul coins in such vast quantities, their domains will develop rapidly. Keep in mind, not a single hell lord is virtuous—they are all insatiably greedy. If you keep expanding, won't your neighbor grow terrified?"
Mammon's eyes lit up, and he picked up Anbaixiu's train of thought: "Oh, I see what you mean! We aid their development through low-interest lending, then take equity through contracts. After some time, every hell lord's fortress will undergo massive upgrades. Those who refuse to take loans will be left far behind, or even annexed. This forces them to take loans to bolster their own strength."
Anbaixiu nodded. "Exactly. Yet no matter how much they improve, the authority of Hell remains firmly in your hands. This is an involution rat race. And no matter how intensely they compete, their standing won't fundamentally change; instead, they will be driven forward like whipped slaves, because failing to advance means being devoured by their rivals. In the past, you had to threaten and command those unruly devils to serve you; now, all you have to do is lift a finger, and they will flock to you, selling everything they own in exchange for your 'financial backing.'
"Yet power built like this is illusory, like a bubble. The moment an issue arises on the credit side, they won't be able to sustain the expenditures demanded by such breakneck growth. That is when we adjust the interest rates and tighten our monetary policy. This is what's called a monetary tide: as the tide rises and falls, we reap everything of value from these hell lords. To us, currency is merely numbers, but it can serve as a lever to pry loose all of Hell's resources. We have military might backing us, and we can print currency at will. That is our greatest advantage."
It was the first time Mammon had ever heard the term 'monetary tide,' but the more he thought about it, the more brilliant he found it. Just how had this fellow devised such a sinister, ruthless method of harvesting?
Mammon couldn't help but sigh in admiration. "It truly is a waste for you not to descend to Hell! You should have died sooner—why bother wasting hundreds of years in the Prime Material Plane?"
Anbaixiu: "..."
It really wasn't his invention; it was the favorite game of a certain hegemonic nation before his transmigration. Military superiority paired with the power to print currency—a two-pronged assault that no one could withstand, causing the economies of countless small nations to collapse under such maneuvering.
That was why this game could only be played by an archduke ruling an entire layer of Hell; lower-ranking devil lords weren't even qualified.
Originally, Anbaixiu hadn't wanted to employ such tactics because they were far too ruthless, essentially driving all those hell lords to a dead end. Moreover, it was an overt scheme—an open ploy that no one could stop.
But on second thought, this was Hell, and those hell lords were the devils among devils, the sinners among sinners. What was there to hesitate about?
Compete—let them all damn well tear each other apart in the rat race! This was the sinners' blessing!
Yet when Mammon asked Anbaixiu to provide a detailed plan, Anbaixiu merely countered, "Archduke Mammon, are you certain you want me to draft the specific terms? Leaving aside whether I even could, are you truly comfortable leaving the fine print in my hands?"
Mammon instantly laughed. "Now you're being far too formal. How could I not trust you?"
Though his lips said so, Mammon decisively shifted the topic anyway.
"Quite right. How could I trouble you with such trifles? I will send a few goblins over; please train them well."
Anbaixiu smiled back. It wasn't that Mammon hadn't considered this; he was clearly probing. Mammon already understood the general effect of a monetary tide, so he had no need for Anbaixiu to handle the details personally.
Had Anbaixiu agreed, Mammon would have concluded that Anbaixiu harbored ulterior motives.
While Mammon would never lower his guard entirely, this slight concession from Anbaixiu allowed him to breathe easier. After all, those goblins were Mammon's people; whether there were any issues with the specific terms, they would examine every detail closely to ensure Anbaixiu hadn't tampered with anything.
Anbaixiu didn't mind either. He was no finance major; he could gauge the broad direction from things he had read in his past life, but when it came to concrete details, his calculations might not match the precision of those goblins.
"No need to send them over. It's too troublesome."
Anbaixiu gave a light flick of his finger, and basin-sized magic mirrors flew out from the mirror's surface one after another, landing before Mammon.
"Running back and forth wastes time and teleportation costs. Doing business demands efficiency. Take these magic mirrors back with you and have them communicate with me through them. Of course, you'll need to cover the cost. Close as brothers though we are, even brothers must settle accounts clearly."
Mammon took the magic mirrors. Though he felt Anbaixiu was trying to fleece him, he didn't refuse.
Anbaixiu was right: the First Layer and the Third Layer of Hell were separated by a vast distance, making teleportation expenses exorbitant, and Mammon truly coveted a simple, convenient communication tool like the magic mirror.
As a powerful devil, instant communication with other hell lords was not difficult, but sustaining large-scale, long-distance communication over extended periods was extraordinarily exhausting.
These magic mirrors were the work of the God of Alchemy, powered by an entire divine realm. The power of a conceptual deity was just that absurd: whenever you used an alchemical product to produce an effect, it was tantamount to recharging the God of Alchemy.
The greater the influence of alchemy, the stronger the God of Alchemy became.
Mammon was quite envious, but he knew full well this was something he couldn't replicate. One could only say the God of Alchemy had a wonderful student, and becoming a greater deity was only a matter of time.
And he wasn't doing poorly himself—if he cooperated closely with Anbaixiu, one day he could open banks across the entire Nine Hells!
Chapter 536