"This... this is too detailed."
Valery looked at the clauses regarding the spacing of stalls, sanitation responsibility zones, and the reward mechanism for victims reporting crimes, and the whole man fell into a state of deep shock.
Moreover, Her Majesty the Queen was simply too benevolent regarding the amount of tax paid by merchants in the Kingdom—it was actually only sixty-five percent!
One had to know that when the Old King was on the throne, the tax was eighty percent, and even that former, former King from his youth required seventy-five percent.
But their Her Majesty the Queen was now only collecting sixty-five percent in taxes; she was simply a soft-hearted deity!
The laws of the past were used to kill people, but this law was used to prune the entire country like pruning an orchard.
In Her Majesty's eyes, those hooligans were not even enemies, but merely weeds that had grown in the wrong place.
Irene's eyes also lit up:
"Your Majesty, once this commercial law is implemented, those Leighton merchants will feel that this is the safest haven on the entire continent!
Our soap will be sold for a higher price!"
Sophia nodded expressionlessly.
"Delilah."
"Your subordinate is here!"
Delilah stepped forward, her eyes filled with a flame of longing for battle.
"Take your musketeer squad.
They have had quite a few extra meals recently; their bones should be hard enough.
Go to Clock Tower Avenue and post those rules in the most conspicuous place.
As for those who are illiterate..."
Sophia's tone paused slightly, and a touch of grim gloom flashed through her pale golden pupils.
"Translate it for them in a way they can understand."
*
Afternoon on Clock Tower Avenue. The scar-faced man was smugly weighing a bag of silver coins he had just snatched from a Leighton merchant.
"See? What's so great about that Little Queen?
As long as we stick together, could she possibly kill us all?
This Royal City, in the end, is still up to us old locals..."
The scar-faced man's words were cut off before he could finish, his movements freezing in place.
The sound of heavy, rhythmic footsteps came from the end of the street.
Delilah walked at the very front, dressed in succinct black combat gear, her cape flapping violently in the wind.
Behind her, thirty Musketeers of the Black Rose Guard lined up in two columns.
Because of the excellent food recently, coupled with Sophia's ham supplies, every one of these men had grown burly and imposing. Their complexions looked ruddier, and their eyes were as sharp as knives.
They held the muskets that glinted with a cold light under the sun flat in their hands. The sound of their footsteps was like heavy hammers, striking against everyone's hearts.
"Halt!"
Delilah raised her hand to signal.
The column instantly went still, their movements as uniform as if they were a single person.
The scar-faced man swallowed a mouthful of saliva, forcing himself to be bold as he shouted:
"Yo, isn't this Leader Delilah?
What, Her Majesty the Queen is going to bicker with us brothers over this bit of pocket change?"
Delilah ignored him completely, simply signaling the soldiers behind her to paste two huge sheets of parchment onto the marble wall of the Clock Tower.
"Mason Royal City New Laws."
Delilah's voice was cold and resonant, echoing through the silent street.
"Article One: Sovereignty of the Royal City's streets belongs to Her Majesty.
Those who privately collect regulatory fees shall have their fingers severed.
Those who disobey orders shall be beheaded."
The scar-faced man froze for a moment, then erupted into a burst of wild laughter:
"Hahaha!
I've mixed on this street for twenty years, and I haven't seen any law that can control..."
Bang!
A deafeningly loud noise rang out.
The first row of soldiers behind Delilah pulled their triggers without hesitation.
Lead bullets precisely shattered the stone slab at the scar-faced man's feet. Stone chips splashed onto his face, cutting a bloody streak.
Screams erupted instantly, followed by a deathly silence.
"What did you say just now?"
Delilah slowly drew the longsword at her waist, the tip pointing at the scar-faced man's throat.
"I... I..."
The scar-faced man's legs trembled violently. That thick smell of gunpowder instantly reminded him of those bandits who had been hung on the city walls earlier.
"According to Article Three of the New Commercial Law."
Delilah read expressionlessly: "Harassing foreign merchants: confiscation of illicit gains, and punishment by forced labor.
Take them away."
In less than a quarter of an hour, the originally rowdy ruffians of Clock Tower Avenue were all tied up like pigs.
They were ordered to kneel beneath that huge parchment and read it aloud, one after another.
The populace gathered in the distance, their initial terror gradually turning into some kind of uncontrollable excitement.
"It really worked! That Leighton merchant's money was recovered!"
"Look, the new law says that as long as we set up stalls here, Her Majesty protects our safety.
We never have to worry about being charged 'road tolls' again."
The merchants from Leighton were even more excited, their faces flushing red. Not only had they gotten back the money that was extorted, but they had also retrieved their dignity.
They had traveled through various countries on the continent and seen countless greedy lords, but they had never seen a monarch who would enact such a detailed and tough protection law specifically for merchants.
"This is the will of the Queen of Mason."
A Leighton merchant whispered in awe as he looked at the code written in gold patterns on a black background.
"She is not ruling the land; she is ruling the truth.
Under her shadow, order is the only path to survival."
*
Meanwhile, on the terrace of the Palace, Sophia was sitting in a rattan chair while Willow carefully handed her a plate of cut Leighton fruit.
Handled.
A total of thirty-two people were caught. Sending these thirty-two units of labor force to Irene to dig foundations and build greenhouses saves another large sum of expenses.
Moreover, extracting a 65% tax on every transaction in the future... now that there is trade with Leighton, it will be easier to trade with people from other countries later on.
My little treasury is finally going to be filled.
Sophia took a bite of the melon. The sweet and clear juice blossomed on the tip of her tongue, causing a very rare trace of faint relaxation to appear on her face, which was frozen in ice all year round.
Once the food problem is solved, let's plant some fruit too, shall we?
But this sliver of relaxation, falling into the eyes of Valery in the distance, became another terrifying interpretation.
Look at Her Majesty's expression. After such thunderous methods, she actually revealed a calmness of the dust settling.
What does this mean?
It means that the movements of those ruffians, and even the reaction of the Leighton people, were all within her sand table deduction.
She is not establishing a code; she is establishing the foundation of the Kingdom of Mason for ten thousand generations.
This kind of method, playing with human hearts, money, and violence in the palm of her hand... Your Majesty Sophia, are you truly human?
Valery lowered his head deeply, his heart filled with shame for his own former bit of cleverness.
At dusk, Delilah returned to the Palace carrying an air of triumph.
She walked straight to the West Tower, where Irene was busy directing the newly captured ruffian laborers to excavate the floor heating pipes.
"What did Her Majesty say?"
Irene asked without turning her head.
"Her Majesty said that this order will become the backbone of Mason."
Delilah walked to Irene's side, watching those formerly arrogant and domineering ruffians now sweating profusely as they dug pits, and a sneer rose at the corner of her mouth.
Meanwhile, at the Main Palace building not far away, Sophia was lying prone before the window sill, looking at the construction project proceeding smoothly below.
So nice. This is the productivity brought by the labor force.
As long as the greenhouses are built, the potatoes grow out, and the grain grows out, I can achieve basic food freedom this winter.
Sophia let out a breath, the scattered firelight reflected in her pale golden pupils.
I feel like the temperature has dropped a bit recently.
________________________________________
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