This Game Is Too Realistic-Chapter 532.2: My Debt Is The Scythe Hanging Over Your Neck
Those who purchased the bonds didn’t need to worry about the five-year investment horizon being too long. If they needed cash, they could simply sell the bonds they held.
With so many wealthy tycoons in Boulder Town, there was bound to be someone with idle money and an interest in that slight interest rate spread!
And as the underwriting agent for their financial product, Boulder Town Bank naturally stood to benefit, all without bearing any of the risk that Liszt had.
That same day, Malvern returned to Boulder Town in high spirits, bringing his beloved daughter and a convoy of bodyguards along with the incredible news.
He had solved a problem that none of Boulder Town Bank’s presidents before him had managed to crack, turning chips into CR on a massive scale!
“Send letters to all our shareholders!” he shouted into his phone in excitement, even though he was only a few streets away from Boulder Town. He yelled at his secretary. “Tell them we’re holding an emergency shareholder meeting tomorrow at 9:00 in the morning., same location as always. It’s not about dividends this time, it’s something even more important! Tell them... We’re about to witness history!”
He couldn’t wait to share this good news with them.
Elisa, clutching a stuffed doll, looked anxiously at her father, a faint shadow of unease in her eyes. She always found out about events after the fact, through bits and pieces in the newspapers.
Her father rarely spoke to her about his work, so she had no idea what kind of agreement had been reached between the New Alliance and Boulder Town.
Still, she had a bad feeling... Could things really go so smoothly?
And it wasn’t just Elisa, an outsider, who had such doubts. Even influential figures like Vega, who ran the largest trading company in Boulder Town, shared her concerns.
But unlike the girl's vague worry, Vega’s concerns were grounded in concrete data from his very own ledgers.
Most of the issues stemmed from chip-based settlements.
It was both a requirement from Boulder Town and a basic demand that aligned with the interests of most people living there. After all, no one wanted to rely on a currency that could be overissued at will and had nothing to base itself off.
Yet now, Vega found himself in a paradoxical situation. He would’ve preferred that New Alliance companies paid in silver coins, even if he had no direct way to convert them into chips, because... The inflation rate of chips was just too fast!
Raw materials that cost one chip that month would cost two the next, and suppliers didn’t even like accepting chips as payment.
Worse, Vega had to go pick up shipments himself from the New Alliance’s station, since the route between the New Alliance and Boulder Town was in terrible shape.
What good was the official 1:2 exchange rate if 99% of people couldn’t realistically exchange 2 silver coins for 1 chip?
To convert currency, people either had to use the black market or buy some unknown product from the New Alliance’s markets and slowly flip it back in Boulder Town.
Vega never imagined that a man who ran a food business would end up stockpiling copper ore, purchased in silver coins, in his warehouse.
“Aaron, do you believe it?” Vega asked, pressing his aching temples as he stared at the ledger.
It was three days after the New Alliance’s celebration and one day after the Boulder Town Bank’s shareholder meeting. “Sometimes... I envy my competitors.”
Aaron, his secretary and one of his few trusted aides, blinked in surprise at the remark. He had been the one who coordinated with the factory security team during the siege of city hall.
“You mean... Mr. Ditway?” he asked softly.
Vega sighed and nodded. “Yeah. Ditway Nutrient Paste.”
For a time, Ditway Nutrient Paste, thanks to cheap labor and materials from the northern suburbs, had eaten up a significant share of Vega’s market in Boulder Town. Vega had considered the man a personal thorn in his side.
Luckily, that idiot Ditway wasn’t as shrewd as Liszt. Or maybe he was just too inflexible. If the New Alliance hadn’t elevated him beyond his means, he would have remained a small-time businessman.
Vega knew full well that his own backers had once offered Ditway a chance. But the man hadn’t even considered getting a black card or spending some of his profits to grease the wheels. So with a little effort, Vega had him quietly removed from Boulder Town.
Now, though, Vega found himself feeling a little envious.
Word had it that Ditway’s factory had fully pivoted, now processing feed and agricultural fertilizer, and was thriving in the Sunset Province’s agriculture market.
Perhaps that was what they called industrial upgrading.
Vega’s factories under his trading company had also started improving production lines, but in a very different direction.
Take Good Taste Food Processing Factory, for instance.
To make nutrient paste affordable for Boulder Town survivors, he had to slash its production costs. Only then could low-wage survivors actually afford it. He sold the slightly better-quality batches to the New Alliance. While New Alliance residents no longer ate the stuff themselves, Frost Spear Tribe would buy it and mix it into feed for cattle, sheep, and pigs.
Normal individuals didn’t have foreign currency quotas, but ranches engaged in production could get one. As long as they declared their usage through official channels, they could settle payments in chips.
Even so, inflation was a massive issue. Even if a client delayed payment by just a week, the value of that money in raw materials would shrink. If profits the following month rose faster, that would be fine, but unfortunately, profit growth was falling behind inflation.
He had no idea where all the extra money in the market was coming from.
He was aggressively pressing clients to pay, while still trying to please them, because exporting to the New Alliance had become his company’s only lifeline. Expecting the outer city’s poor souls to buy his goods had become a joke... Those malnourished wretches were mixing wood shavings into their nutrient paste.
Vega felt as if an invisible hand was stealing his profits, and he had no clue how to fight back.
Was he supposed to blame the New Alliance for spending too much? They were his number-one customer!
If the New Alliance’s plants and ranches stopped buying from him the next day, he would have to shut down the entire nutrient paste production line.
Maybe he could settle the bill in silver coins instead? That was an option, but not a good one. It might solve some production issues, but the profits would become a row of immovable silver coins on the ledger. Just thinking about the 1:2 exchange rate was enough to make his shareholders fume.
As Vega wrestled with his accounts, the phone suddenly rang.
He answered immediately, he knew full well that only a very specific few people ever called that number.
“It’s me.”
Hearing Sid’s voice, Vega immediately plastered on a smile. “Mr. Sid! What a surprise... Is there something I can do for you?”
Sid didn’t bother with small talk. “I’ve got 500 million in bonds. I’m offering them at a discount, 490 million. Use your trading company’s account to buy them.”
Already anxious about his cash flow, Vega felt his stomach sink. He burst out in fright, “500 million chips?! Where am I supposed to get that kind of money?!”
Realizing his tone might’ve been inappropriate, he quickly softened and leaned into the phone in a pleading tone, “... Respected Mr. Sid, I meant no offense. But our trading company needs capital to buy raw materials. We can certainly allocate part of our funds for bond purchases... but we need to reserve some for operations.”
What he didn’t say was that just a few days ago, he had already bought 500 million worth, just to stay in Sid’s good graces. He didn’t have the liquidity for another round.
Sid was irritated too.
He had never expected Malvern, his old friend, to suddenly undercut him. Sid still had 500 million in unsold bonds and had planned to offload them gradually. But Boulder Town Bank had jumped into the bond distribution game too.
With minimal price difference, even a fool would choose to buy from Malvern.
Still, Sid couldn’t say much. After all, he was a shareholder in Boulder Town Bank himself.
Malvern’s intention was for everyone to profit. Any money the bank made, Sid got a cut too.
Seeing that Vega wasn’t leaping to accept, Sid, though annoyed, remained patient. “You’re just lending me the money temporarily. Don’t worry about liquidity, Boulder Town Bank just launched the bond trading platform. You can resell them on the secondary market. Or just use the bonds as payment!”
Vega didn’t dare ask Sid why he didn’t just sell on the secondary market. He knew full well. The noble would never be caught scrounging leftovers there. In the end, he would likely have to gamble on that so-called platform alongside other suckers, or just watch his money get stuck.
At this point, he didn’t even care whether the New Alliance paid interest.
Without working capital, if he didn’t liquidate those bonds, or his own assets, he was heading straight for bankruptcy.
"Say yes or no. If you don’t want to do it..." Sid snapped, his patience running thin, "I’ll find someone else."
That sentence scared Vega stiff.
Heh, do you think you’re good enough to ignore me now?
Let’s be honest, any chips Vega’s business had earned came with Sid’s support. Did he really think he’d gotten rich off his abilities?
If Sid hadn’t pressured the inner city research institutes into revising the nutrient paste standards, how the hell would Vega’s slop have ended up in the pigs’ troughs outside the city?
Hearing the impatience in Sid’s voice, Vega broke into a cold sweat. "I’ll buy! I’ll buy them!" he shouted.
What he feared most was Sid working with someone else. He knew full well. What he did wasn’t specialized work. His factories were all in Boulder Town’s industrial zone. Sid could replace him in minutes. Even if they both had black cards, it didn’t matter.
"You should’ve just said yes earlier." Sid snorted casually and hung up.
He didn’t care how Vega got the money. If he knew how to do business, why would Sid need him at all? Might as well kill the dog and eat the meat.
After the call ended, Vega collapsed in his chair like his soul had been drained. Aaron watched him with concern. "... Boss?"
Vega rubbed his temples. "At the very least... we have to get through this."
After a moment, Aaron said quietly, "But we can’t water down the nutrient paste anymore."
"Are you stupid?" Vega cursed. "How long will it take to earn 500 million off that junk?"
He got up and walked to the window for some fresh air, only to see, reflected in the glass, Ditway’s dumb smiling face staring back at him.
Boiling with frustration, he resisted smashing the window and instead lit a cigarette, exhaling smoke toward the city.
Aaron, still watching his boss’s back, spoke after a short moment. “... A merchant from the north asked if we had any spare production lines for sale. They’re very interested in our mixers, filters, and synthesis furnaces, and they’re offering good prices.”
Those machines had been bought during the New Alliance–Boulder Town trade honeymoon, using loans from Boulder Town Bank to scale up production.
The bank hadn’t just lent to the New Alliance, it had also funded their factories. That was how they grew so quickly.
Some of those equipment loans had already been repaid. Selling those machines could at least solve part of their immediate problems, and they could figure out the rest later.
Vega looked back at him. "They want to make nutrient paste?"
