"Crushed? How is that even possible?"
The student in the black top hat cried out in disbelief. To him, it sounded as absurd as someone saying the world would end tomorrow.
The student in the pink suit hurriedly waved his hands, signaling him to quiet down. He glanced around again before cautiously leaning closer and whispering:
"What else could it be? The Church claimed heretics were causing trouble, so they went to suppress them.
"But they ended up provoking that heretic…
"And he started slaughtering entire cities.
"He basically fought his way out while massacring town after town.
"Luckily, when he reached the border of our Savant Kingdom, the Church finally caught him.
"Otherwise, we'd be part of the refugee army too."
He lowered his voice even further, as if sharing a sacred secret.
"I'm telling you, I've got insider news.
"It came from my seventh grandaunt's classmate's grandson's son—you know, that guy's a Church monk now.
"He said that in order to capture that heretic, not only did the Church's own experts suffer massive losses…
"But the three kingdoms in the west had over sixty cities destroyed."
His eyes widened.
"More than four million people died in the disaster.
"And now, two million refugees are spreading into the surrounding nations."
He clicked his tongue.
"If you ask me, we should prepare early.
"Once those refugees arrive, prices in Savant City are going to skyrocket."
"Oh?" The black-hatted student raised an eyebrow.
He had already sniffed out a business opportunity in the middle of the crisis.
"So what, you want to make a fortune off it?"
"Make a fortune my ass," the pink-suited one snapped.
"Those refugees are poorer than dirt. There's no profit to squeeze out of them.
"I'm worried about rising prices affecting our lives."
The pink suit clearly wasn't as sharp-minded—or as money-minded—as his companion.
But perhaps his status was higher, because the black-hatted student showed no displeasure. Instead, he smiled mildly.
"The refugees themselves may have no oil left to extract…"
"But aren't they the biggest oil of all?"
"You mean… slave trading?"
"No, no," the black-hatted one shook his head smoothly.
"How can you call it slave trading? That's uncivilized.
"We're simply helping the government solve the refugee problem…
"Providing them with a place to eat and sleep."
Seeing the other still didn't fully understand, he continued:
"Look.
"Workers in the city's alchemical machinery factories still need wages.
"And if you pay them too little, they strike.
"But refugees are different.
"They've lost everything.
"Once they enter those factories, leaving becomes nearly impossible."
His smile turned cold.
"Unless they want to starve to death…
"They'll work until they die."
"But what does that have to do with us?" the pink-suited student frowned.
"The factories have already been carved up by the great nobles.
"They won't just hand over a golden goose."
"No, no," the black-hatted one replied patiently.
"We don't need to control the factories.
"We only need to control the refugees.
"If we strip them of their identities…
"Then where we sell them, how we sell them…
"Is entirely up to us."
"That's still slave trading!"
"Oh, come on," the black-hatted student chuckled.
"When it's about making money, don't put it so crudely.
"We call it… human resource reutilization."
…
Hel stopped listening after that.
Not that those two would ever realize their conversation had been overheard in full—
By Hel, a shameless sixth-tier powerhouse.
By now, Mortia and the other two girls had finished eating as well. They were discussing where to go for a stroll afterward.
Or rather…
Mortia alone was enthusiastically giving suggestions.
Zephyra, though she had grown a bit more familiar with Mortia over the course of the meal, was still painfully shy.
She had stayed pressed close to Hel the entire time.
So when Mortia proposed continuing to wander around, Hel thought for a moment…
Then declined.
After leaving the restaurant, Mortia escorted them to the bus stop and sent them onto the shuttle.
Then she returned to the commercial street herself.
As she put it, since she'd come all this way, she might as well recruit a few more members.
On the ride back, Hel's mind kept replaying what those upperclassmen had said.
If their information was true…
At least a hundred thousand refugees would pass through Savant City.
And if those people were sold into the hands of factory owners…
Then Hel's earlier plan—poaching every worker with better treatment—would no longer work.
No… I can't let them flood into Savant City like this.
Hel frowned deeply. Then she opened her soul network connection with Witt.
Beside her, Zephyra stared at Hel with wide, watery eyes, watching her silently as she spaced out, unsure what she was thinking.
A moment later, Witt's video call popped up in front of her.
"What are your orders, young master?"
"One thing," Hel nodded, asking directly.
"Do you know about the refugees coming from the Garden Kingdom?"
"I have heard a little," Witt replied, nodding.
"But in truth, they are still within the Garden Kingdom's borders.
"They have not yet entered the Scholars' Nation.
"And our intelligence network does not currently extend into the Garden Kingdom, so…"
"Don't worry about that," Hel cut in.
"Niv will coordinate with you shortly and provide their exact movements.
"What I need from you is this:
"Purchase a piece of land as quickly as possible, either within the Garden Kingdom or along the border of the Scholars' Nation."
"That won't be difficult, young master," Witt said after a brief pause.
"In fact, because of the recent battle, land prices in the Garden Kingdom have plummeted.
"Many nobles with real authority suffered heavy losses in the disaster.
"They're desperate to sell their land just to maintain their extravagant lifestyles."
"Good. Handle it quickly."
Hel thought for a moment, then added another instruction:
"Oh, and send manpower to gather up those refugees as well.
"I need you to build an industrial city on the border between the Garden Kingdom and the Scholars' Nation."
Her voice remained calm, but her intent was unmistakable.
"If you run into problems, contact Niv.
"As for how to build the factories, you can consult Tina.
"And… it's time for our Heim Chamber of Commerce to expand westward again."
"Understood, young master."
Witt bowed respectfully through the screen, then ended the call.
When Hel finally snapped back to herself…
She realized that at some point, Zephyra had climbed onto her lap.
The little girl sat astride her legs, staring up at her with worried, shining eyes.
"Lord big brother…"
Her voice was soft, almost timid.
"Is something making you unhappy?"