"Borrow some chips?"
"Forgive me, but I don't quite follow your meaning..."
Dulong stared at Luka in bewilderment. "How could lending you some chips... solve our problem?"
Weren't they here to discuss trade?
If it were merely an additional concession in the negotiations, he might have entertained the thought. Yet the man before him claimed that simply lending them a sum of money would resolve the entire issue.
Dulong even suspected his ears were playing tricks on him.
Looking at Dulong's stunned expression, Luka cleared his throat and brought out the Administrator's words.
"Aren't you complaining that we haven't spent our chips where they 'ought to be spent'? That's because we have limited funds. Naturally, our reserves must be budgeted down to the last coin. But if you're willing to lend us a sum, the situation changes entirely."
Seeing that the man still failed to grasp the esteemed Administrator's brilliance, Luka continued patiently.
"We just liberated Xizhou City. To accommodate the survivors there, we're currently building Daybreak City."
"That place requires at least ten thousand homes, vast quantities of food, cotton textiles, bars of soap for sanitation, and all sorts of other consumer goods... Aren't those precisely the things you want us to buy?"
"Naturally, we're capable of closing these shortfalls on our own. But relying strictly on ourselves, it might take a year or two—perhaps even longer—before the people there can achieve a self-sufficient life. However... with your involvement, it would be a completely different story."
Dulong's eyes went wide.
"You mean... you want us to lend you chips, so you can turn around and use our chips to buy goods from us?"
"Precisely." Luka nodded as though it were the most natural thing in the world; that was exactly what the Administrator had told him.
"Do you think that sounds reasonable?" Dulong couldn't help but ask.
"Why wouldn't it be? Your factories get orders, your workers keep their livelihoods, and the chips we borrow will ultimately be paid back to you. Just as you suggested earlier, the funds can remain in your accounts as book-entry transactions—the chips wouldn't even need to leave your banks."
Luka's methodical, logical reply left Dulong dumbfounded.
Put that way...
Did it actually make sense?
At least for the moment, he couldn't conjure up a single reason to refute it.
Under the terms demanded by the residents, trade between both sides would grind to a halt, leaving neither party with any benefit.
Yet if they followed the plan proposed by the mayor of Dawn City before him, Boulder City would secure a massive market.
Factory profits and jobs for the workers would both be safeguarded, and the money lent to the New Alliance wouldn't vanish into thin air... No one would take a loss; it seemed as if everyone would come out ahead.
Still, this felt entirely bizarre!
After racking his brain for quite some time, Dulong finally found an angle to poke at.
"...And how do you guarantee you can pay it back?"
Luka countered, "Are you questioning our solvency?"
With a subtle nuance in his expression, Dulong gave a slight nod.
"Pardon my bluntness... but your settlement has only existed for six months. Even the Bone Chewer tribe lasted longer than you."
When Boulder City's banks extended loans to travelling merchants, they charged exorbitant interest rates. At the core of it, plenty of people ventured beyond the Great Wall to do business, only to vanish without a trace midway through.
He had every reason to doubt how long this Alliance—which appeared utterly suspect from every angle—could truly survive.
Dulong's skepticism came as no surprise to Luka.
Before departing, the Administrator had told him that unless the other man was a reckless gambler through and through, he was bound to worry about risk.
The future was unpredictable, and a person's assessment of risk wouldn't change with a few idle words.
Yet fear of the unknown could be overcome.
The simplest approach was to paint a dazzling picture!
If a ten percent profit wasn't enough to make them forget the danger, then tempt them with a hundred percent.
Luka looked at Dulong.
"Yet they have already been consigned to history."
"And what about you?"
"We defeated the Tide, defeated the mutants, defeated the Legion, and defeated the marauders. We earned the friendship of Ideal City and became an enduring partner of the Enterprise. In a mere six months, we've grown from an unremarkable hamlet into a settlement numbering tens of thousands. Why not imagine what the northern suburbs will look like in another year?"
"Hmph." Dulong gave a noncommittal snort through his nose, but the resolve in his eyes had clearly begun to waver.
Luka didn't pause, continuing in an unhurried, measured tone.
"A long time ago, there was an obscure little village in the northern suburbs called Bet Street. Under the exploitation of slaveholders, the survivors there couldn't afford a single bar of soap in a whole year. But now, you can spot a bar beside the basin in every single household..."
"That's merely a modest example, but I believe it speaks volumes. Our Alliance is committed to giving our people a better life."
"Alongside consumer goods, we place equal importance on agriculture. In half a year, we have reclaimed thirty thousand mu of fertile farmland. Under our overall development plan, that figure will quadruple within two years."
"Alongside agriculture, we value trade just as highly. We plan to link Qingquan City to the tributary of the Tianshui River by rail, opening up a trade route to the Great Rift Valley. We also plan to construct wharves on the south bank of the Tianshui. In the future, caravans heading east won't have to lead two-headed oxen across rugged paths; they'll be able to admire the mountains on either bank while drifting downriver by boat, straight to the estuary on the eastern coast."
"Why not dare to envision just how immense this market will be?"
In truth, that final sentence was entirely redundant.
Old Luka didn't even need to prompt him.
Sitting across the table, Dulong had already held his breath without realizing it.
From the moment opening the trade route to the Great Rift Valley was mentioned, his right hand beneath the table had balled into a fist, his thumb and forefinger rubbing together repeatedly. Beneath his tense expression lay excitement and fervor he couldn't disguise.
Naturally, he knew quite a few castles had been built in the air here, and that the fellow across from him was talking big.
Even if he weren't an accountant, after serving as Director of the City Hall for so many years, he possessed at least that much discernment.
Yet to be honest, he was thoroughly tempted.
If played right, he might well go down as the most illustrious City Hall Director in the history of Boulder City!
Without the slightest hesitation, he reached out, retrieved the trade demand list from the table, crumpled it into a ball, and tossed it into the wastepaper basket beside him.
Not only that, but his demeanor performed a complete hundred-and-eighty-degree pivot, the aggressive expression on his face melting into an affable smile.
"I was too hasty, my dear friend... Let us talk anew. How much of a loan do you need?"
"Two hundred million."
"Two... how much?!" Hearing that staggering figure, Dulong's eyes bugged out.
"Two hundred million chips."
Luka repeated the number, looking at the director in apparent surprise as though muttering to himself.
"After hearing what I just said, I assumed you would be eager for me to borrow even more."
"Do you have any concept of what two hundred million chips even means?!"
Luka replied, "Naturally, I do. Every decision made by our Administrator is carefully considered on the foundation of our bilateral relationship. In that esteemed gentleman's words, this is the only path to a win-win outcome."
Dulong opened his mouth, taking a long moment to slowly recover from the shock.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he rose from the conference table.
"...I will need to confer with my aides."
In all his time in office, he had never encountered anything so preposterous.
And it wasn't just his aides; he also needed to solicit the opinions of the various factions in the outer city.
Watching the director stand up from the table, Luka's expression relaxed slightly.
The Administrator had told him that so long as the other party didn't reject the proposal on the spot, it meant he was already sold.
"Remember to consult your bank president as well."
"Tell him... granting us this loan will save his clients' lives."
The meeting drew to a close.
It had wrapped up far sooner than anticipated.
Watching the reception room door click shut, Shuyu, who had remained silent the entire time, let out a deep breath and looked toward Luka sitting not far away.
"Just in case, let me ask... Does the Administrator truly intend to pay this money back?"
"Of course," Old Luka answered without the slightest hesitation.
How could the great Administrator ever become a deadbeat?
In his memory, that gentleman had made good on every single word he had uttered.
Whether it was abolishing slavery, putting a solid roof over their heads, or ensuring they had enough food and warm clothes.
As long as it was something he had promised, he had never once gone back on his word.
Shuyu fell silent for a few seconds, sitting there without making a sound.
It wasn't that he distrusted the Administrator; he simply felt his imagination was falling short.
That was two hundred million...
An assault rifle cost only a hundred and fifty chips. The monthly income of most residents in Boulder City hovered around a hundred, and last month's trade volume between both parties hadn't even reached a million.
A loan of two hundred million chips...
Just how long would it take to pay it off?
***
Shuyu wasn't the only one stunned.
After listening to Chu Guang's plan, Old Charlie, head of the Merchant Guild, wore an identical expression of sheer dumbfoundedness.
When the two-hundred-million silver coin infrastructure budget had been approved last time, he had already thought it mad enough.
Yet what he hadn't expected was that in less than a month, this Administrator had cooked up something even crazier than printing money.
Two hundred million chips...
Bet Street's old mayor had scrimped and saved his whole life to amass roughly a hundred thousand or so.
By that calculation, two hundred million chips was equivalent to two thousand Bet Streets?
After a long silence, Old Charlie cautiously asked nearly the exact same question.
"Do you intend to pay this money back?"
His instinctive reaction was that the Administrator might simply default on the sum.
Reason told him that would hardly be a wise idea.
Yet the Administrator's response caught him completely off guard.
Chu Guang replied as if it were obvious.
"Of course we'll pay it back. Do I look like the sort of person who borrows money without returning it?"
Debts had to be repaid; that was the natural order of things.
Otherwise, how could he borrow even more down the line?
Old Charlie had no idea that the Chu Guang standing before him was already thinking about taking out another loan.
His mouth worked for a good while before he finally couldn't help asking, "...Then have you considered how you will repay it?"
Chu Guang said unhurriedly, "The loan will be split into an eighty-year term. I'll pay them a portion each year, a figure that won't exceed five million."
Earning five million chips within a year was hardly difficult for the New Alliance.
"No collateral?"
"What collateral would we need? We're right here; it's not like we're going anywhere."
"And the interest?"
"Two percent at most. If they ask for more, I don't intend to negotiate."
Hearing that number, Old Charlie's brow knit together involuntarily.
If he had merely thought Chu Guang was out of his mind a moment ago, he was now gradually beginning to think that it might be Boulder City that had lost its sanity.
"...How could they possibly agree to such terms?"
Chu Guang replied with absolute certainty, "Of course they will agree. Because lending money to us is far safer than lending it to 'merchants who might never come back' or 'factories on the verge of bankruptcy.' It's also infinitely more reliable than handing it to residents who are guaranteed to default."
"Borrowing two hundred million is merely because that's all we need at this stage. Believe me, in a few months, so long as we open our mouths, they'll be clamoring to deliver even more money to our doorstep."
Could sovereign debt even be compared to personal debt?
Was the New Alliance's repayment capacity something ordinary survivors could match?
Before long, Boulder City's City Hall and banks would realize what an ingenious decision it had been to lend money to the New Alliance!
Pumping liquidity into an economy stimulated it much like morphine.
Not only did it take effect fast, but the impact was potent—a single shot yielded immediate results. Its only downside was that it proved addictive, and overusing it built up tolerance.
It sounded like opium.
And in truth, it was.
Yet the currency being overissued was chips, not silver coins. What did that have to do with the New Alliance?
The exchange rate would certainly take a hit, but by then the purchasing power of the currency would shift along with it; at worst, he could simply adjust the exchange rate.
As chips depreciated, the debt he owed would shrink in real terms. In the future, two hundred million chips might only carry the purchasing power of twenty million today.
Though this was a win-win arrangement, Chu Guang had never discussed with the people of Boulder City just how many times each party would win.
Nor had Chu Guang informed them that beyond the risks inherent to the debt itself, this seemingly mutually beneficial scheme harbored a massive hidden hazard.
Still, he had no obligation to proactively disclose the risks.
Who went around highlighting the flaws of their own product when pitching it?
Besides, it wasn't as if the worst-case scenario were guaranteed to occur.
"...And how do you intend to use this sum?" Old Charlie asked after a moment of silence.
Chu Guang said succinctly, "Very simple. I will use those chips to mobilize Boulder City's factories to help build our city-state."
Having Boulder City's struggling small and medium-sized factories, along with the wealthy but disenfranchised rising merchant class, bring their technology, equipment, and skilled workers to set up shop in Dawn City had been the first step.
Now, that first step was complete.
The industrial goods produced by the New Alliance had not only been exported back into Boulder City, but had also aggravated their economic malaise.
Next came the second step.
He would concede a slice of what appeared to be a very appetizing cake, while using debt, employment, and a high-growth market to tie Boulder City's banks, City Hall, and factories firmly to the New Alliance's war chariot.
In the ideal scenario, by the time the people of Boulder City realized they were clambering out of a shallow puddle only to tumble into a bottomless pit, the cost of climbing out would have grown far too agonizing for most of them to bear.
Of course, pulling this off would be no easy feat; it had to be pursued subtly and with the utmost care.
Yet if it succeeded...
It would achieve what guns and artillery never could.
***
In the streets of Boulder City, the protests continued all the way into the evening.
Mingling with the crowd, Fang Chang followed the demonstrating mob in a wide circuit around the outer city.
Once the throng finally began to disperse, he locked his sights on the ringleaders who had shouted the loudest and held their signs the highest, trailing them into a dark alleyway.
Two burly men stood flanking the alley, and between them was a smartly dressed man who seemed to hold a fair amount of status.
The reason Fang Chang could tell he had status was that the agitators who had been leading the ruckus with such fury earlier suddenly wore entirely different faces before him.
With ingratiating smiles plastered across their features, they effusively thanked the man as they accepted fist-sized pouches from his hands.
The bulging pouches were clearly stuffed with chips.
"...That's your pay. When I need you again, I'll call for you." Having finished handing out the money, Alec lit a cigarette with practiced ease and spoke casually.
"Thank you, milord!"
Bowing and scraping in gratitude, Macken couldn't wait to untie the pouch.
Yet after counting through the contents, his expression instantly turned unnatural.
"How come there are only twenty..."
Fifty had clearly been the agreed-upon amount.
This was simply too much!
"You get a whole week's wages for doing nothing more than taking a stroll down the street. What more do you want?"
Alec didn't even bother looking at him, waving his hand impatiently in a shooing gesture.
"Scram."
*You lot aren't the only ones who need money. You think I don't deserve a cut for myself?*
Thinking of the alluring dancers at the Queen of the Night Bar, Alec's heart grew eager.
Having just made a tidy sum, he could head over for a drink later and unwind a little.
Macken looked thoroughly choked with frustration, but glancing at the two bruisers beside the man, he ultimately swallowed his anger.
The person before him was a confidant of the Weijia Commercial Firm's boss, commanding a dozen-odd enforcers under his thumb.
He himself was nothing more than a worker at a cannery; there was no way he could go toe-to-toe with a big shot like this...
Concealed within the shadows, Fang Chang wore an amused expression as he secretly snapped a photo of the scene.
Though he had long experienced the realism of Wasteland OL, he hadn't expected them to flesh out even details like this.
It seemed his deduction had been spot-on.
Behind the demonstrations targeting the New Alliance, an unseen hand was indeed fanning the flames.
Almost the instant the photo was saved, a pale blue pop-up appeared on his VM screen.
[Side Quest: Track Down the Mastermind Behind the Warehouse Arson]
"...Warehouse arson?"
What was that about?
A flicker of confusion surfaced in Fang Chang's eyes, followed immediately by excitement.
To think that simply tailing them out of curiosity would trigger a hidden quest.
This was an unexpected windfall!
Clutching their pockets tightly, the ringleaders slipped stealthily out of the alley.
The three men handing out the money lingered in place for a short while, chatting and laughing as though discussing their next move.
By the time the cigarette burned out, they had reached an agreement and departed in a different direction.
Fang Chang followed at an unhurried pace, trailing them all the way to the bustling thoroughfare bordering the inner city.
The moment he stepped onto this street, the entire aesthetic of the city transformed.
Dazzling neon lights flashed along both sides of the avenue. Most of the pedestrians walking by were glamorous women, mercenaries fitted with expensive bionic prostheses, wealthy merchants in opulent attire, and even nobles hailing from the inner city.
Their bearing was unmistakably distinct from that of ordinary folk.
Compared to the world outside, this hardly looked like a wasteland; it felt more like a miniature cyberpunk boulevard.
Particularly after the New Alliance's recent "cultural exports" to Boulder City, the previously rustic clothing style here had picked up a distinct touch of fashion.
Fang Chang was no stranger to this area.
As a hardcore player, his map-exploration skills were second to none.
Yet to his surprise, the three men didn't lead him to the mastermind's lair. Instead, they came to a halt outside the entrance of the Queen of the Night Bar.
With an odd look on his face, Fang Chang followed them inside regardless.
Raucous music flooded his ears.
Cutting through the flickering lights and the dense crowd, he quickly reacquired the three men in a booth near the bar counter.
Beer had already been set on the table between the sofas.
The man who had handed out the money to the rabble-rousers earlier was now holding a giggling, swaying dancer in his embrace.
The two companions seated on the neighboring couch watched with unmistakable envy in their eyes.
Yet envy was all they could do.
Fang Chang nonchalantly walked over to an empty seat at the bar, ordered the cheapest drink on the menu, and pretended to be an ordinary patron watching the performance, though his gaze drifted reflexively toward the booth.
The noise here was deafening.
He couldn't make out what they were saying, but he could record the audio and listen back to it several times once he returned.
Yet just as he was engrossed in listening, an unfamiliar voice suddenly sounded from beside him.
"Are you here to drink..."
"...or are you looking for someone?"
***
Outside Boulder City.
The slums.
Disguised in plain clothes, Lao Bai led Sha Bi and Gou Dongxi through a round of inquiries before finally locating Black's doorstep.
Unlike the surrounding shacks, this entire house was constructed of brick and concrete.
It seemed that even within the slums, there were distinctions between the wealthy and the destitute.
"...Be careful. This is Dagger Gang territory; they don't take kindly to people causing trouble on their turf."
For the sake of the two chips he'd received, the hunched old man whispered a few words of caution.
"A gang actually abides by rules like that?" Sha Bi glanced at the translation on his VM, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.
Slum gangs and marauders were practically indistinguishable, frequently taking turns playing each other's roles—that was hardly news to anyone.
Gou Dongxi said with a chuckle, "Isn't there a saying? If you exile a bunch of criminals to a deserted island, chances are they'll form a new nation."
Ignoring the two goofballs wandering off-topic, Lao Bai gave the old man a nod.
"Thanks for the warning. It's getting late, you'd better head home."
The old man gave a tremulous nod, hunched his back, and turned to hobble away.
Looking at the house before him, Lao Bai stepped up and knocked on the door. He had assumed no one would be inside, but to his surprise, footsteps echoed from behind the entrance.
The one who opened the door was a mature woman of lingering charm. She had light-colored hair, and neither her attire nor her makeup suggested a slum dweller; her expression carried a lazy, relaxed ease.
Yet upon seeing the figures standing at her threshold, that reasonably pretty face instantly hardened with vigilance.
These people clearly weren't locals from the neighborhood, nor did they even look like residents of Boulder City.
Her immediate instinct was that they were here seeking vengeance.
"...Who are you?"
Lao Bai replied politely, "We'd like to ask about someone."
The woman said nervously, "Are you here looking for Black? He isn't here."
Instead of answering her question, Lao Bai pressed on, "What is your relationship to him?"
The woman hesitated for a beat before answering cautiously, "Friends... We only met last week."
Standing beside Lao Bai, Sha Bi and Gou Dongxi exchanged a glance and muttered to each other in low voices.
"You buy that?"
"Not a chance!"
Unable to understand what the two were whispering about, the woman's eyes gradually filled with anxiety and dread.
"...Who on earth are you? What do you want with that guy?"
"Who we are doesn't matter. So long as you answer my questions honestly, we won't give you any trouble."
As he spoke, Lao Bai produced a chip with a face value of one hundred from his pocket and waved it before her eyes.
"In fact, we'll even compensate you."
At the sight of the chip, a faint, barely discernible trace of greed flashed across those eyes that had just been brimming with panic and fear.
Lao Bai couldn't help but ponder to himself—perhaps she wasn't lying after all, and they really had only met last week.
Glancing left and right to ensure no one was paying attention, the woman stepped back to clear the doorway, her tone noticeably softer.
"...Come inside and talk."
Chapter 353