Chapter 79
“What?!”
“The... the furnaces went cold! The few skilled workers keeping them going all stopped working and disappeared! Every single one of them!”
“Are you insane?! H-how… Wait, is it just your factory? Please tell me it’s just yours—please—”
“It’s all of them! Every last skilled worker in Scrap Yard’s factories has walked out! Every furnace in the city is cold! And there’s no one working in the mines either! What the hell are we supposed to do?!”
The whiskey bottle slipped from Mayor Bias’s hand.
It shattered, and the deep amber liquor—red like blood—spread across the floor.
He didn’t even notice.
“Those… those bastards… those vermin—they’ve gone mad!!”
“It’s not just the skilled workers, Mayor. All the laborers are leaving the city. Scrap Yard is emptying out!”
“What, are they trying to starve to death? What’s outside the city for them?!”
“Free soup kitchens. Field hospitals.”
“…What?”
“The Order of Grace and Karma Company are providing food and medical aid outside the city! An entire trainload of supplies just arrived—they’re distributing it as we speak!”
The shock he’d felt when Duke Lima and High Bishop Rufus rejected him was like a punch to the gut.
But this… this felt like getting brained with a construction-grade sledgehammer.
Bias’s face went corpse-white.
“W-where is it?! Where the hell is it happening?!”
“The East Gate! That’s where the train’s stationed!”
“Get the car! Now! We’re going—right now!”
He wasn’t the only one in full-blown panic.
As he rushed to the East Gate, he saw lines of factory owners’ cars already there, tailing one another in a desperate parade.
With city police escorting them, they barreled out of Scrap Yard’s heart.
And then—they saw it.
A nightmare.
“There’s plenty of food, everyone! Fresh vegetable soup, made from Southern produce just delivered!”
High Priest Yodel and the priests of the Order of Grace were calmly distributing food to the poor with a practiced efficiency.
Nearby, other priests were frantically treating the sick and wounded.
“Anyone craving roast turkey, come this way! Special delivery from Chairman Jonathan Karma himself! Prefer pork? Over there—we’ve got tons!”
The crackle and sizzle of meat roasting echoed from every corner.
Hungry workers were wolfing down soup and meat with both hands, while Karma Company staff—clad in uniforms with the company crest—worked nonstop to cook and serve.
Bias and the factory owners felt their world spin.
Why would any worker ever go back to the factories now?
“Th-this is… this is…”
Bias stammered, unable to even finish a sentence.
That’s when he saw them—a middle-aged gentleman walking calmly toward them,
accompanied by a graceful secretary.
“Mayor Bias, I presume? I thought you might show up, so I waited. I’m Jonathan Karma. This is my wife and secretary, Olivier.”
Ordinarily, Bias would’ve slapped on a fake smile and offered a practiced greeting.
But right now, he couldn’t afford the mask.
“What is the meaning of this… Mr. Karma?”
“As you can see, I’m aiding the poor. My wife and I are followers of Lilia—we can’t just stand by and ignore the suffering of the sick and hungry. Ha-ha!”
Jonathan’s voice was cheerful, almost too cheerful.
Bias’s eyes darted wildly as he forced himself to smile, his tone strained.
“Why don’t we… speak inside, shall we?”
“Of course. I was getting a bit tired of standing, anyway.”
With gritted teeth and trembling fingers, Mayor Bias and the factory owners escorted Jonathan and Olivier back into the city, heading straight for Town Hall—the heart of Scrap Yard.
Inside, they entered a grand reception room.
Before the Karmas even sat down, Bias spoke, hurried and desperate.
“Mr. Karma, let me get straight to the point.”
“Oh? I’d hoped for at least a cup of tea first. My wife and I aren’t picky—doesn’t need to be anything fancy. Even something simple and well-steeped would do.”
Jonathan laughed, all warmth and casual politeness.
It made Bias want to scream.
But he held it in.
He had to persuade this man—not confront him.
“Mr. Karma… why are you doing this? Do you have any idea how many people live in this city?”
“I believe the population is just over a million?”
“To feed that many people daily—do you know how much that costs?”
“Rough estimate? Today’s supplies alone came to about 100,000 Saled. Feeding that many mouths isn’t cheap.”
“Exactly! That’s an astronomical figure. You can’t possibly keep spending that much every single day. And food’s just the start—what about the kitchens, the hospitals, the staff? That’s a bottomless pit of expenses!”
“Of course. Staff wages. Transport costs for all the food. And we hired skilled chefs as well—they were quite pricey.”
Even now, Jonathan Karma smiled like it was nothing.
Bias felt like he was going to lose it. He forced himself to stay composed.
“Why are you willingly bleeding money? You have no stake in Scrap Yard. You and this city are strangers to one another.”
“I’m just helping the poor and sick—on my own dime, mind you. I’d think a mayor would be grateful.”
That polite smile—again.
Bias’s patience was beginning to crack.
His eye twitched. His lip spasmed. But he still managed a contorted grin.
“You… you really don’t have to do this. Leave this to us. The situation in Scrap Yard is ours to handle. Please… don’t go out of your way to lose any more money. Just… go home.”
“As I said… I can’t do that.”
Craaaack.
A grinding noise escaped from Bias’s clenched jaw.
He was grinding his teeth so hard, it sounded like bone on stone.
“Why?”
Mayor Bias finally asked.
“I told you, didn’t I?” Jonathan Karma replied with a calm smile. “My wife and I are followers of Lilia.”
“……”
“The Goddess of Grace told me to bring blessings to this city. So, I’m just spreading her will. Did you see the workers eating turkey earlier? They were beaming. Ha-ha! It warmed my heart!”
“……”
“It reminded me of Cecilia when she was young—my daughter. She’s quite the rising star in the capital’s social scene these days. Gets more invitations than we know what to do with! But anyway, eating well is important. She was so skinny when she was little… I still remember—”
“Mr. Karma,” Bias cut in, forcing a smile. “Ha-ha… Let’s speak plainly, shall we?”
Finally.
Bias’s patience snapped.
And so did the factory owners’.
“Stop interfering and get out. Don’t take another single worker from us.”
“Go back to the capital and stay there, Mr. Karma.”
“Why the hell are you sticking your nose into an industry you don’t even understand?”
“You think we’ll just sit back and take this? If your companies want to build factories and produce cars, you’ll need the steel we make. Do you really think you can mess with the empire’s largest steel hub and walk away unscathed?!”
But Jonathan Karma remained composed, even relaxed.
He listened to their angry outbursts as if they were background noise.
Then he casually pulled out a cigarette.
“Jonathan Karma!! No matter how rich you are, do you think you’ll come out of this alive after making the entire Scrap Yard your enemy—!”
“You wanted honesty?” Jonathan interrupted coolly. “Then let me be honest, too.”
He lit his cigarette and exhaled slowly, smoke curling lazily in the air.
“How long do you think you can hold out against me?”
He was still smiling.
But something about the smile had changed.
“Three days? A week? I’d say three weeks, max. And if you last that long, it’ll be impressive.”
“Ha! You think we’ll crumble in just three weeks, Jonathan Karma?”
“Oh, I know you will. Because your biggest clients—factories in the South and the Mage Towers—are going to stop paying you.”
“……”
“You do remember that most workers in the Southern industrial zone are Lilia followers, right? Consider this the price of crossing the Saint.
And your factories aren’t running anyway, are they? No product means no contracts fulfilled.”
“……”
“As for the Mage Towers’ magic metal needs… well, I’ve already purchased the entire stock from the Mars Tower branch. I’ll be distributing it to the other Towers at a discount.
So no, they won’t be coming to you anytime soon.”
“Y-you bastard…”
“And by now, I’m sure all your furnaces are cold, right? What a shame.
Can’t produce steel anymore, can you? You’ll have to tear them down and rebuild from scratch.
No clients. No production.
And on top of that, you’re facing investigations from both the Pantheon and the Black Fortress.
A full-blown heresy inquisition and a sweeping tax audit—how unfortunate.”
Jonathan Karma chuckled softly, puffing out another stream of smoke as the factory owners and Mayor Bias stared at him, stunned and trembling.
“You said feeding the workers was a loss, didn’t you?
I disagree.
I see it as an investment—an investment to swallow the entire Scrap Yard whole.”
Bias’s eyes widened.
Jonathan continued smoothly.
“I did a little digging. Seems you recently took out some big loans from Martok Bank, for new mine developments?”
Bias’s pupils trembled.
But what Jonathan said next sent a shockwave through the room.
“Oh, and Martok Bank? As of today, it belongs to Karma Company. The acquisition was finalized this morning—right before I got here.
So, officially, I’m now your creditor.
You shouted pretty boldly earlier… I’m curious—what exactly do you plan to repay me with?”
“……”
“I imagine it won’t be long before you hand over those factories and companies you’re so proud of.
Willingly or not.
I’ll take them—by force, if I have to.”
It was only then that the factory owners and Mayor Bias realized they had made a terrible mistake.
The friendly-looking middle-aged man before them hadn’t come to hand out food.
He’d come to hunt.
With everything calculated and laid out.
“Th-that kind of money… you can’t possibly…”
“Oh, but I can, Mr. Bias.”
Jonathan’s voice didn’t waver in the slightest.
“I have enough money to feed this city’s entire population—nearly a million people—for ten years.
Enough to buy a bank on a whim.
Enough to rebuild every shattered furnace.
Enough to reshape this city however I see fit.”
He tapped ash into the tray, extinguishing the cigarette.
“All of it—paid for by this quarter’s revenue alone.”
Jonathan and Olivier rose from their seats.
The couple smiled.
“Do you really think you can win against a company that has infinite elixirs flowing from the earth… and doesn’t pay taxes for the next ten years?”
It was a smile.
But it was the kind of smile that made grown men feel like death was breathing down their necks.
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