The Arren Industrial Syndicate was a financial and legal fortress, but fortresses eventually attract armies. For months, the Duke of Valerian, the kingdom's most powerful noble and the ultimate creditor of the Arren land, had received confusing reports. His agents reported that Viscount Arren was sickly and nearing death, yet the interest payments were arriving early and were made in pristine, certified silver.
The Duke did not care about crop rotation or steel consistency. He cared about two things: power and taxes.
Alex knew the inevitable reckoning was coming. His newly installed semaphore line had flashed a clear, alarming code three days ago: 215 (Duke's Envoy Sighted, High Priority).
He had just enough time to prepare the stage.
***
The envoy arrived the next morning: a portly, fastidious man named Master Alistair, the Duke's Chief Revenue Collector. Alistair was not interested in accounts; he was interested in finding evidence of insolvency to justify the Duke's long-desired land seizure.
Alistair surveyed the Arren manor with a sneer.
"Viscount Arren," he droned, "I am here on behalf of His Grace to conduct an audit of your assets and assess your ongoing viability. We hear strange whispers of new methods and unusual coin."
Alex, dressed in a simple but clean waistcoat—looking more like a factory owner than a viscount—offered a welcoming, clinical smile.
"Master Alistair. You are welcome. We have nothing to hide. Our books are open, and our operations are fully transparent."
The inspection began. Alistair expected decay and chaos.
First, he found the kitchen. He intended to mock the meager rations, but Elara the cook proudly presented the full weekly inventory and the precise ledger showing her 25% savings due to the profit-sharing incentive.
The food was still simple, but the process was unimpeachable.
Next, he demanded to see the staff. Instead of finding ragged, subservient peasants, he found well-fed, organized men and women working in shifts, wearing standardized linen aprons (thank you, Hemlock). When he questioned the workers, they didn't speak of loyalty; they spoke of salary tiers, bonuses, and share dividends.
"These men are paid three times the regional average!" Alistair gasped, looking at the payroll sheet. "This is gross mismanagement!"
"On the contrary, Master Alistair," Alex corrected gently. "It is an investment in human capital. Happy workers increase yield, reduce absenteeism, and require less oversight. Our higher payroll is a feature, not a bug, reflected in our 400% profit margin increase this quarter."
Alistair then demanded to see the "steelworks," hoping to find shoddy, illegally wrought iron. Alex took him to the blast furnace.
Alistair was speechless. He saw the tall, imposing furnace, the powerful waterwheel, and the neat rows of gleaming pig iron ingots. More importantly, he saw the standardized, quality-controlled process managed by the newly certified steelworkers, who knew their process flows better than Alistair knew his own tax codes.
Alistair, recovering, pointed a shaky finger at the steel. "This is proof of your solvency! The Duke will seize this for back taxes!"
"The Duke cannot seize this," Alex replied calmly, gesturing toward a meticulously framed legal document hanging on the wall of the foreman's shack.
"And why not?"
"Because this is not mine," Alex stated. "The blast furnace, the steel, the carts, the semaphore line, and all profits are the exclusive property of the Arren Industrial Syndicate, a legally independent entity formed under common law."
Alistair stared at the word 'Syndicate,' a concept entirely foreign to his feudal mind. "A Syndicate? What is that?"
"It is a limited liability corporation," Alex explained. "Viscount Arren holds 80% of the shares, yes. But the Syndicate's assets are distinct from the Viscount's personal land assets. If the Duke were to seize the Syndicate, he would be seizing the property of its shareholders—Master Garth, Foreman Silas, and Master Hemlock—and he would inherit all the Syndicate's outstanding loans, debt, and employee contracts."
The genius of the corporation was its defense: to seize the asset, the Duke would have to become a co-owner of a complex, debt-laden, and utterly modern business, risking massive legal and financial chaos. The steelworks had become unseizable.
Frustrated, Alistair returned to the study, defeated on both the solvency and asset fronts. He was forced to admit that the Viscount was solvent and his assets were protected by an infuriating legal shield.
"Very well, Viscount. You are solvent," Alistair conceded bitterly. "But where is the Duke's cut? Where is the taxable revenue from this Syndicate?"
Alex presented a final ledger. "Master Alistair, the Syndicate generates massive profits, and those profits are taxed. But the Syndicate is continuously reinvesting 90% of those profits into infrastructure development—building more furnaces, improving roads, and expanding the farming operation."
He smiled, pushing a small pouch of silver across the table—the meager remaining 10%. "The tax collected on this personal income is current. However, as the Syndicate expands, it raises the taxable wealth of every single farmer and tradesman who works with us. Faster trade on Baron Tarsus's road means higher trade taxes for the Duke. Wealthier farmers mean higher crop yields and more stable land taxes for the Duke. You can tax me a little today, or you can allow me to make the entire region vastly wealthier so you can tax everyone more tomorrow."
Alistair stared at the meager silver, then back at the charts showing the projected regional revenue growth. He had been sent to kill a debtor; he had found an economic catalyst who promised his Duke unprecedented future revenue.
"I will report that Viscount Arren is solvent," Alistair muttered, defeated. "And that he is operating... efficiently."
Alex nodded. The first political threat had been converted into a reluctant, long-term stakeholder. The Duke had chosen the slow, reliable profit stream over the immediate, messy land grab.
Next priority: Military logistics. The original novel's plot is accelerating. I need to move from agricultural tools and financial instruments to products of organized power. This world needs standardized, reliable weapons.