Similar to Fenris, the homeworld of the Sixth Legion Space Wolves, the freezing climate of Kislev drove its people to a profound love for strong spirits. To a Kislevite, drinking was an almost daily necessity.
"Vodka," a term originating from ancient Terra, was the name the Kislevites gave to their favorite spirit. It could also be translated into a more elegant phrase: the "Water of Life."
Like common water, this potent liquor distilled from root crops was an indispensable part of Kislevite life. Without vodka, life for a Kislevite would be devoid of joy.
The Kislevite lords had long ago recognized the profitability of this universal addiction that transcended regions, urban-rural divides, and social classes. In every town and village across the Kislevite principalities, shops selling vodka were required to pay heavy taxes to the state in exchange for the right to operate.
Despite these crushing taxes, these shops remained highly profitable. The Kislevite people's devotion to vodka was so absolute that even with high overhead costs, the shops could reliably recoup their profits from loyal customers.
Perturabo was no stranger to vodka. During his time at the monastery, Mikhail would occasionally bring out the monastery's cellar reserves to treat visiting villagers during holidays. However, Perturabo did not share the common obsession. In his view, strong spirits only interfered with his pursuit of knowledge and clarity of thought.
Nevertheless, Perturabo understood the necessity of vodka for his subjects. He was wise enough to know that if he were to abruptly ban it, even the most submissive serfs would rise in a furious rebellion—a scenario he had no desire to witness.
Thus, upon becoming the ruler of a nation, he did not ban vodka in Perturabograd. On the contrary, to monopolize the trade, he utilized his advanced knowledge to build a specialized factory dedicated to its production, naming it after himself: the Perturabo Distillery.
At the Perturabo Distillery, workers used new fermentation and brewing machinery designed by Perturabo to process potatoes with unprecedented efficiency. According to statistics, the distillery could process dozens of tons of potatoes purchased from local farms daily, converting them into vodka.
To secure his monopoly, Perturabo also took time from his busy schedule to refine the brewing process, allowing him to produce the maximum amount of vodka with the minimum amount of potatoes.
Consequently, the daily output of the Perturabo Distillery exceeded that of dozens of traditional distilleries combined. More critically, his costs were significantly lower than those of traditional workshops, placing small producers at an impossible disadvantage.
Due to this industrial brewing method, the small workshops could not compete. They were forced to declare bankruptcy or sell themselves to the Perturabo Distillery. Thus, Perturabo won a market monopoly in a dull, unpretentious, yet effective manner.
Simultaneously, as a "boon" from Perturabo, the workers employed in his massive enterprises could obtain this "Water of Life" at extremely low prices or even for free. Word of these benefits spread among the populace, leading many citizens to sell themselves into Perturabo's factories just for the sake of free daily vodka.
This was Perturabo's open scheme—a strategy to lure the people of Kislev to work for him.
Inside the Monastery
"Abo, the profits from this distillery are staggering. Just looking at these figures, I can imagine how well the vodka is selling."
Mikhail flipped through the ledgers of the Perturabo Distillery. If the expanding colors of Perturabo's territory on the map had been enough to amaze him, the profits from the factories—especially the vodka distillery—left him speechless.
"Heh. It was a simple task, Mr. Mikhail. I merely applied a small portion of the knowledge in my mind to deal with these commoners. I slightly improved the brewing method, and that simple change was enough to crush the small workshops."
Perturabo gave a soft snort of pride as he replied to his foster father.
"But Abo, is it truly right to earn money this way? Though our teachings do not forbid it, is this not... a bit much?"
Mikhail's expression turned serious. He felt Perturabo might be going too far; monopolizing the vodka market did not seem like a righteous path.
"Mr. Mikhail, do not be so rigid. If I am to extract wealth from the people, sending the Streltsi door-to-door to demand taxes would only cause them to hide their riches."
"But if I monopolize vodka and sell it at an attractive price, these drunkards will unhesitatingly hand over their gold to buy what I produce. In this way, isn't it a win-win situation? They have their vodka, and I have the funds I require."
Perturabo dismissed his mentor's criticism with a counter-argument.
Mikhail furrowed his brow, staring at his foster son in silence before letting out a long sigh.
"Yes, Abo, you are right. The people of Kislev are like that; they would rather buy vodka than pay taxes. You are correct—only this way will they hand over their money willingly."
"However, have you thought about how to deal with the drunks? You know that when Kislevites drink too much, they tend to go mad. Are you not afraid that giving them so much vodka will lead to absenteeism or accidents?"
Mikhail looked at Perturabo, seeking a proper answer.
"Heh, as for that..." Perturabo gave a short laugh and slowly turned his gaze toward the window.
"Regarding absenteeism and sabotage, I have my methods of dealing with such things. But you probably wouldn't want to hear them, so I shall spare you the details." Perturabo spoke with absolute confidence.