The Obsidian Company's headquarters.
The Factor's office at the peak of the tallest and darkest spire in Pellua.
*BOOM—!*
A thunderous roar, as though the desk would split in two.
At the spot where Valerius's thick fist had struck, the report from mere moments ago lay crumpled beyond recognition.
"To the East... through the Windless Zone to Kipro Island and back?! And in just ten days?!"
Valerius's bloodshot eyes bulged, as if they would pop out at any moment.
The Factor, who was always as cold and rational as a serpent, was now snorting like an asura who had lost all reason.
"Speak sense! Eastern trade is something only big shots like me in Pellua attempt, mobilizing dozens of armed galleys and risking our lives over half a year! That treacherous deathtrap where only smugglers dare creep about in cockleshell boats—how could that brat Elphanso possibly make it through?!"
"B-but Factor! I saw it clearly with my own two eyes! That black monster ship without even a mast spewed onto the dock nothing less than the island's highest-grade cotton and Turkey Red dye! And on top of that, massive amounts of gold coins collected from the South...!"
"Silence!!"
Valerius flung something at him, and the informant screamed and prostrated himself on the floor.
Gulping down rough breaths, Valerius staggered to the window.
Far beyond the window, the Carnoble steamship, still belching long plumes of black smoke over Pellua's First Harbor, clouded his vision.
"Carnoble... that damned Theodore Carnoble!!"
From between his lips sprang the name of a sworn enemy he had spent his entire life cursing.
In the past, the young Valerius had been an ambitious man who sought to stand at the pinnacle of Pellua through his own abilities alone.
But always standing before him was a man with dazzling, overwhelming talent: Theodore Carnoble.
It was a bitter inferiority complex and resentment belonging to Valerius alone.
In his youth, even the woman Valerius had loved with all his heart had chosen the capable and charismatic Theodore's side.
Having lost his love, he had grown his company fueled by vengeance, yet every new trade route or business venture he ambitiously prepared was blocked again and again by Theodore's overwhelming commercial acumen and far-reaching insight.
Theodore possessed the qualities of an outstanding merchant and a true Factor.
He was an insurmountable wall of despair that Valerius could never overcome no matter how he flailed for a lifetime.
So when Theodore died of illness, Valerius raised his glass in ecstatic joy, declaring that his era had finally come.
The fact that Elphanso, the sole bloodline of that great man, was a good-for-nothing delinquent who couldn't even reach his father's feet was the greatest pleasure and the ultimate revenge for him.
'I had cut off that arrogant Carnoble's lifeline! Why!'
The delinquent Elphanso deserved to die.
No, he was as good as dead already.
But that worthless bastard son, crawling up from hell one day, had appeared dragging an 'iron monster' that even his father Theodore couldn't have imagined, and was now biting at Valerius's throat!
"Grrk...!"
Just as the hatred of the past and the humiliation of the present overlapped, crushing Valerius's stomach...
"F-father..."
A young man hiding like a dead mouse in the corner of the office, clad in flashy silk garments, cautiously opened his mouth.
It was Lucian, Valerius's only son.
"Well, you see... if the Carnoble Company has brought back cotton from the East in bulk, what happens to all that cotton we hoarded by paying premiums to the southern lords? The storage fees are no joke; shouldn't we sell them on the market at a loss right now while we still can..."
The moment he heard that blockheaded son's voice, the fuse of reason in Valerius's head completely snapped.
"You worthless fool!!!"
Valerius roared like thunder and closed the distance, ruthlessly slapping his son's cheek.
*Crack!*
"Agh! F-father!"
"Shut your mouth! If you had achieved even a quarter of what Carnoble has, I wouldn't be shedding tears of blood like this! Sell at a loss? Do you even know how astronomical our losses are this time?!"
Valerius grabbed his son by the collar as he rolled on the floor, snarling with spit flying.
"We bought it from the southern plantation owners at five times the original price! While paying their penalty fees on top of that! Do you know how much political capital we spent on the border lords and tollgate administrators?! All of it was sunk cost poured out to cut Carnoble's lifeline!"
If Carnoble had been trapped in Pellua and withered to death, those losses would have returned several-fold as profit.
But because Elphanso had broken through the sea and thrown open the door to the East, the southern cotton that the Obsidian Company had monopolized at a steep price had become toxic inventory that no one would buy, reduced to perfect garbage.
"Theodore's bastard son is tearing through the seas with a sail-less hunk of iron and turning the world upside down! And the one who calls himself my flesh and blood is in the back doing storage fee calculations?! Get out! I can't stand the sight of you, so get the hell out of my sight right now!"
Terrified, his son fled the office with wet trousers, as if escaping for his life.
Gasping for breath, Valerius slumped onto the sofa and grabbed the back of his neck.
It felt as if the back of his head would burst from rage and internal stress.
"Elphanso... I will definitely... definitely tear you apart and kill you with my own hands..."
As he spewed curses in a voice thick with blood.
*Knock, knock.*
The tightly shut office door opened, and a courier in the deep navy-blue uniform of Pellua's military walked in with disciplined steps.
"I come to see Factor Valerius of the Obsidian Company."
"...What is it? What business does a military courier have at this hour?"
The courier produced a thick letter sealed with an ornate gold stamp from within his breast and presented it with both hands.
"A stern personal letter from His Excellency the 'Doge,' supreme ruler of Pellua."
"From His Excellency the Doge?"
Valerius's brow twitched.
In the city-state of Pellua, the Doge was the de facto head of state who controlled external diplomacy and military authority.
Normally, it was customary for him not to intervene in the economic struggles between merchants, merely observing from the sidelines.
Valerius forced down a foreboding premonition and broke the letter's wax seal.
And the moment he read the words written on the parchment, his face went from burning red to turning deathly pale.
[To Factor Valerius of the Obsidian Company.
I have received reports that you recently mobilized a mercenary fleet to arbitrarily blockade the mouth of the René River at Pellua's First Harbor, attempting to obstruct another company's free maritime activities by force.
Pellua is a trading city that survives through the sea.
The massive quantities of copper and dye that the Carnoble Company has brought in by breaking through the Eastern deathtrap this time are being hailed as a great feat that will advance our Pellua's industry and national power to the next level.
Your attempt to seal off the very heart of Pellua using military force for personal grudges and monopoly can only be regarded as a challenge to my authority as Doge and an act of treason against Pellua as a whole.
Upon receiving this letter, you are commanded to immediately disarm and withdraw the Obsidian Company's private troops deployed at the harbor.
If you dare violate the rules of commerce and employ force in the waters before Pellua once more, I sternly warn you that I, the Doge, will personally wipe the Obsidian Company from existence.]
"Y-you... insolent...!"
*Riiip!*
The Doge's personal letter was crumpled and torn in Valerius's grip.
It was a clear drawing of the line, and a threat.
Even the Doge had been captivated by the overwhelming product of engineering and the Eastern spoils that Elphanso Carnoble had brought, and had drawn his blade directly against Valerius to protect him.
"I am Valerius! I, who have supported Pellua's economy, must suffer this humiliation from the Doge because of a mere brat?!"
He hurled the torn letter to the floor and bit his lip until it bled.
The legal tollgates, the military blockade of the harbor, the cornering of the market through massive capital—all had failed.
Within Pellua's old rules, there was no longer any way to break that monster-like Elphanso.
"Very well. Carnoble... if even that Doge bastard claims to be your backer."
From the depths of Valerius's murky eyes, a blood-chilling madness erupted—that of a killer, no longer a merchant.
"Fighting within the rules ends here. Along with your damned hunk of iron, I shall dye the waters before Pellua red with blood."
*
The red brick factory along the René River.
The massive waterwheel, which had held its breath for several days, spun mightily once more, spitting out resonant sounds of water.
*Clank! Swish! Clank! Swish!*
As the factory's main shaft transmitted the rotational force, hundreds of stopped spinning machines and power looms roared awake in unison.
"It's running! The machines are running again!!"
"Long live the Factor! Long live Carnoble!"
The inside of the factory was truly a festival atmosphere.
Mountain-like piles of highest-grade cotton from Kipro Island filled the storage yard, and hundreds of workers who had been trembling in anxiety when work had run out cheered and ran to their respective lines.
Old Man Giles, who had switched from weaving to quality control, caressed the pure white cotton fabric pouring out and wiped away tears, while the hulking Thomson connected broken leather belts with seething strength and sweated droplets.
"Haha, it's bursting with life. We've completely torn through the trap Valerius set."
Ayla, watching the scene from the second-floor administrator's railing, smiled in satisfaction.
But as I watched the machines spewing out fabric without rest, I felt a thirst for engineering that went a step beyond mere satisfaction.
'A waterwheel driven by water power is an excellent power source, but in the end, it is inevitably bound by the limits of nature.'
If it doesn't rain and the river level drops, or if the river freezes in winter, the factory's production inevitably takes a hit.
Moreover, if the machines keep increasing like now and the load on the main shaft grows, there will definitely come a breaking point where a single waterwheel cannot turn all those heavy gears.
'But now I have the alloy formula for Taesan special steel in my hands, and massive amounts of copper swept from Kipro Island.'
I smiled inwardly like a beast of prey.
'Before long, I'll have to smash that waterwheel out there. And install that massive steam engine that crossed the ocean in the center of this factory, modified as a stationary unit.'
If that happens, true 'factory automation' will be complete—spewing out all the continent's woven fabrics with explosive, constant power, 365 days a year without constraints of season, weather, or night and day.
Technological progress never stops.
Break down one wall, and only a greater world opens up.