After conducting an on-site survey at the northern slope mine and two days of negotiations, Roland, Hogg, and the Crescent Bay caravan finalized a new trade agreement.
When Hog saw the high-speed rail mining system in full swing, his eyes nearly popped out. He even proposed investing in a factory in Border Town to build mining tracks and supporting equipment, with profits split 50-50, but Roland rejected the idea—investment attraction is for times of plenty, and the town needed people, not money.
Hog remained merely a mining magnate. Though he owned multiple mines and operated an open-pit silver mine for the Count of Cambala in Silverlight City, his workforce consisted solely of miners—a far cry from the island power of Crescent Bay. His final contract involved ordering ten steam engines for six months 'operation, along with a complete mining transport system (including tracks and ore cars). The Demon's Moon was to deliver half of the equipment first, with the remainder to be completed the following year.
The caravan from Crescent Bay spoke with far greater authority, and Jamor promptly signed a ten-year contract. When the caravan returned, he would bring a contingent of three hundred men, primarily blacksmiths and carpenters. The wages for these workers would be covered by Crescent Bay, with Roland only providing lodging and provisions. For the first ten years, the steam engines produced by the caravan would be sold to Crescent Bay first. After the decade, the caravan would voluntarily decide whether to stay or leave—a condition Roland had negotiated repeatedly to secure.
There was no doubt that this group would include the caravan's trusted confidants. With this added consideration, the other side would inevitably prioritize those loyal to Xianyue Bay, leaving the outcome uncertain. Yet for Roland, skilled workers alone were never enough—retaining even a fraction would be a win. His real concern wasn't technical superiority, but the lack of people to translate his expertise into tangible products.
In addition to steam engines, the second major order was for ship retrofits.
Along with the three hundred craftsmen, the Xianyue Bay caravan brought two inland sailing vessels. They hoped Border Town would convert them into steam-powered paddle wheel ships, with each vessel requiring a staggering 1,800 gold dragons for modification. Combined, the cost for both ships would surpass Margery's entire steam engine order. In stark contrast, Mark Cup had secured three orders totaling less than 300 gold dragons—even after Roland raised prices tenfold compared to convenience stores. This stark contrast made him reflect on the profit disparity between industrial and consumer goods. If mass production wasn't feasible, he concluded, consumer goods should simply cater to the town's residents.
Prince was taken aback to find that iron breastplates and farm tools had fallen out of favor. At dinner, Margery clarified his doubts: "While your armor is cheaper, production is too limited. When resold, after deducting shipping costs and taxes, you might only make a profit of five or six gold dragons per piece. Your armor is forged with hydraulic hammers or steam engines—either way, the price is fixed. The high cost lies in premium iron materials, not labor." She paused. "There's no need to buy it for personal use. Seafarers, whether guards or sailors, rarely wear heavy armor. It would sink them fast if they fall into water. Most of the time, armor becomes shackles rather than protection." "The same goes for tools. If you can't obtain cheap iron in bulk, even if it's cheap, it won't be significantly cheaper. Compared to local alternatives, it's hard to gain an advantage. Unlike those colorful cups with no fixed price, you might even double your money with a Noble you like." "I see," Roland mused. He realized this was true... For price-stable goods like armor and tools, material costs dominate pricing. While steam forging is more efficient than water hammer, the slight price difference wasn't enough to attract major merchants.
The whiteboard armor paired with Soloya's anti-piercing coating was part of the First Army's equipment upgrade. Before production capacity increased, mass sales were impossible.
...
The long-awaited premiere day of the play is coming soon.
By the afternoon, the town's residents had packed the central square to capacity—despite Roland having already demolished the surrounding old buildings and doubled the square's size.
To promote the event, Roland issued a notice a week in advance to inform the populace, and specifically instructed the Ministry of Agriculture to dispatch personnel to the outskirts of the town to mobilize serfs to attend the play.
As the Lord, Roland clearly held the most prestigious viewing position. Facing the performance stage, Karl had erected a temporary wooden platform with three tiers, seating approximately a hundred people. Roland occupied the center of the third tier. On one side stood the Witch Alliance, with Anna seated beside him, while the Merchant Guild occupied the opposite side, and Margery was positioned closest to him.
The first and second floors were mostly occupied by municipal officials and apprentices.
To ensure security, the crowd around the wooden stage consisted entirely of First Army soldiers. While watching the play, they kept Prince's location separate from the civilians.
It was around 4 p.m., the scorching sun had begun to cool, and the occasional cool breeze from Wendy's made everyone in the audience feel like VIPs.
The actors took the stage one by one amid the applause of the audience.
To be honest, Roland had no idea how the premiere would turn out. After handing the script to Irene, he stopped caring—hiring actors and rehearsals were all handled by her and Philin. Looking back now, how much experience could a theater newcomer have gained from just one stage appearance? And the friends she brought along were probably all extras who'd come to the town because they couldn't get roles at the Fort Theatre.
In other words, it is a new play directed, choreographed and performed by a new team of people.
Fortunately, Roland isn't bothered by failure. This play isn't about ticket sales or showcasing the script's brilliance. It's a transformative enlightenment, and it's meant to be performed more than once. If this one didn't work out, the next time will be better.
"I get why you're so confident about this performance," Margery exclaimed in surprise. "You actually invited Miss May!" Roland froze. "Who?" "May? Don't tell me you didn't know about this! Good heavens, I saw her play in the capital before coming here," Margery pursed her lips. "Her command of the role and emotional delivery are top-notch.' Prince's Love Story' moved countless hearts, and even Cagin Fis couldn't stop praising her!" "Who's Cagin Fis?" Roland searched his memory, but the name was completely foreign to him.
"...Your Highness, are you truly from the capital?" Margery blinked. "I must ask, who is the person you know best in the capital—aside from those in the court?" "The 'Demon Hand' Yoko," Roland blurted out, immediately sensing something was amiss.
"Oh," the merchantess shot him a knowing glance, "the most famous playboy, they say his hands alone could make a woman forget him... I get it." "Just his hands?" Anna tilted her head. "Why?" "Nothing much," Roland said, resting his hand on his forehead. "Let's get back to the play."