PREVIOUSLY
["Incredible," I whispered subconsciously in Tairona.
The merchant beside me nodded, letting out a raspy laugh as he adjusted his leather belt.
"Worthy of the capital of the Floating Islands folk, isn't it, Sansua?" he said, clapping me on the shoulder. "But don't lose yourself staring at the clouds. That chaos means only one thing: we're going to have more work than our backs can bear."
I smiled, feeling the sun warm my face. The giant I had created, the Suaza Kingdom, breathed with a power that felt overwhelming even to me, its architect. The adventure of being Sansua was only just beginning to show me the true face of the world I swore to protect.]
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Year 13 of the SuaChie Calendar, Fourth Month (June 1495).
Dawn City (Cuba), Federal Region of Floating Islands (FRFI).
Personal Office of Chuta, Stone Manor.
Two days had passed since my previous adventure—that moment when I temporarily cast off the stifling robes of leadership to become simply Sansua, a common laborer beneath the harbor's relentless sun.
Though my shoulders ached from the physical exertion and my muscles cried out for a rest my schedule could not grant them, my spirit felt entirely renewed. Stepping outside the walls of the Council House or Stone Manor to mingle with the real people, watching the kingdom take on a life of its own far from decrees and maps, had been comforting—something my mind desperately needed. Yet, the idyll was over; the clock of history marched on, and I had an empire to prepare for the onslaught of the future.
I sat before my sturdy wooden desk in the main office. Through the arched windows, the Caribbean breeze drifted in, carrying the scent of brine and the distant echo of hammering from the shipyards.
Resting my elbows on the table, I studied the yellowed parchments and the notes I had made using adapted Latin characters (just as a reminder that they possess an alphabet).
The first phase of the restructuring was already underway: the new political division into eight macro-regions was outlined; the military forces were adapting to this new order with specialized branches; and religion served as the glue, with its new official roles within the realm.
There were processes that demanded my direct intervention, and others that, fortunately, I could leave to time and sheer cultural inertia. But what pressed upon me most heavily at that moment—the pillar that would sustain everything else—was the economy.
In my past life, I had been no financial genius, but anyone who had paid the slightest attention to general history knew an immutable truth: a kingdom without a solid, decentralized commercial infrastructure is doomed to collapse under the weight of its own ambitions.
I needed to design an internal and external trade system so robust that it could finance constant technological innovation, assimilate the introduction of new products without destabilizing, and, above all, keep the kingdom economically independent should the European powers attempt a blockade or aggressive intervention in the future.
I was engrossed in the map of the maritime routes connecting the isthmus to the Antilles when the heavy door to my office swung wide with a sharp thud. There was no announcement, no polite three knocks.
Umza crossed the threshold with a firm step and a smile that lit up the entire room, balancing a bronze tray in her hands that threatened to tilt dangerously to one side.
"Umza!" I exclaimed, letting out an ironic laugh as I stood up hastily to rescue the tray. "Will you ever remember that carpenters invented doors so people would knock before entering?"
"Oh, I completely forgot!" she replied with that infectious joy she always brought with her, showing not the slightest hint of remorse. "Though, come to think of it, Chuta, you should stop using doors altogether. Or simply leave them open. That way, we save ourselves the trouble of pounding on wood when our hands are full."
I laughed, shaking my head, as I grabbed the edge of the tray to stabilize it. The sweet, rich, comforting aroma of hot chocolate instantly flooded the room, accompanied by the scent of freshly baked bread.
"Look what I brought you," she said, setting the tray down on a cleared corner of my desk. "A proper hot chocolate and bread with plenty of butter. You need to replenish all that energy you spent at the harbor carrying such terribly heavy things, my dear Sansua."
I froze completely. The hand I had extended to take the cup hung suspended in midair. My stomach did a flip, and I stared at her, trying to decipher the expression on her face. Umza's smile did not fade; on the contrary, her eyes gleamed with an amused mystique, relishing every second of my paralysis.
Damn it, Quemuen, I thought to myself, feeling a mix of frustration and amusement. I need to change assistants for my escapades. That boy wouldn't last two minutes under an interrogation by the Shadows; he can't keep a secret to save his life.
I was opening my mouth to formulate a coherent explanation, searching for the exact words to justify why the leader of the kingdom had been playing at being a common dockworker, when Umza interrupted me with a soft chuckle, raising a hand.
"Don't give me that strict leader face, Chuta, and don't you dare blame poor Quemuen," she warned, resting her hands on her hips. "He truly tried to be a stone wall. The problem was Turey."
"Turey?" I repeated, blinking.
"Yes. She practically forced her pet, Sombra, to follow Quemuen everywhere. Imagine the poor boy trying to walk through the city while a massive owl with a fixed, menacing gaze sweep past his head every three steps, perching on roofs and watching him in deathly silence. By the third block, Quemuen already felt like the bird was going to tear his eyes out, and he confessed exactly where you had gone and what you were doing."
I couldn't hold back a roar of laughter. The mental image of Quemuen, a formidable warrior of the division, being terrorized and broken by a messenger owl was simply too much for my restraint.
"Well... I suppose I underestimated the intelligence tactics of my own wives," I admitted, finally picking up the cup of chocolate, which was still steaming. "You could have asked me directly, you know? There was no need to traumatize the boy."
"Ask you directly?" Umza nodded, but her eyes danced with mischief. "Right, as if we wouldn't have gotten some boring, corporate response from you... This way is far more fun."
She paused briefly, adopting a slightly more formal posture, though without losing her warmth.
"In any case, you've had enough fun playing Sansua. Now the leader must return to work. The Minister of Trade, Chinyia, and the rest of the economic committee men are already downstairs. They are waiting for you in the main hall."
"Understood," I said, suddenly feeling the weight of reality. "Give me two minutes."
I ate the bread in three bites, savoring the creaminess of the butter, and downed the hot chocolate. The warmth of the food settled my stomach and restored the focus to my gaze. I thanked Umza with a quick kiss on the cheek, adjusted my light robe, and left the office, descending the broad stone staircases of Stone Manor toward the first floor.
As I crossed the threshold of the meeting hall, the familiar, relaxed atmosphere I had just shared with Umza vanished entirely, replaced by the dense, formal, and nearly sacred air of decisions of State.
The chamber smelled of polished wood, fresh ink, and the leather of the heavy ledgers resting upon the table. Seated around the grand wooden surface, the key figures of the Suaza economy fell into immediate silence upon seeing me enter.
"Greetings, everyone. I deeply appreciate your presence here today," I said in a clear, serene voice, walking toward the head of the hall.
I waited for everyone to take their seats before taking my own. I swept my gaze across the table, pausing at a familiar face that showed a mixture of pride and constructive weariness.
"Before we begin with the agenda," I continued, fixing my eyes upon him, "I wish to formally congratulate Chinyia. You have been re-elected as our Minister of Trade in this new municipal process. The fact that local representatives and the chambers of commerce trust you to maintain the kingdom's financial course speaks to your impeccable worth."
Chinyia, a man of mature features and hands weathered by years of recording the kingdom's flow of goods, bowed his head in respect, visibly moved by the public mention.
"I thank you for your words, Leader," he replied with a steady voice. "The system we have built together is my priority. I will do everything within my power to ensure that the treasury and resources of the kingdom continue to multiply with the same transparency as always."
"I know you will, Chinyia, and your steadfastness will be more necessary than ever for what is to come," I nodded, interlacing my fingers over the table and making a deliberate pause to capture the group's full attention. "As you have already been informed through official edicts, the Suaza Kingdom is currently undergoing a process of profound restructuring. The continental regions are merging into macro-regions, and the administration is becoming more efficient. But politics cannot march alone; we must transform and improve our trade system to match these structural changes."
Chinyia frowned slightly—not out of insubordination, but with the genuine concern of an administrator protecting what works. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table.
"Leader, if I may ask... why change things so drastically at this moment?" he questioned prudently. "I understand perfectly well the need to expand the administrative territory and draw new borders for the municipalities. But current trade is already firmly established. The routes function, the ancient capitals distribute resources in an orderly fashion, and revenues are stable. From this committee's perspective, it does not seem necessary to make modifications that alter a flow that already brings us prosperity."
I looked at Chinyia and then at the rest of the merchants present, appreciating the honesty of their stance. In this era, an ordinary ruler would view any questioning as an affront, but I valued their caution. Chinyia was not defending a privilege; he was defending the stability of the kingdom. Yet, they saw the present; I saw the complete map of history.
"I appreciate your candor, Chinyia, and I understand your concern perfectly," I replied, softening my tone but maintaining absolute firmness in my words. "Your logic is correct if we view the kingdom as a still photograph. But the world is expanding, and we are expanding with it. The change I propose is no administrative whim; it is because certain trades and industries that until now were strictly centralized in the old core regions, under the direct control of the capital and my own office, will cease to be a state monopoly."
A sudden murmur, restrained but undeniable, swept across the table. The merchants exchanged glances, some opening their eyes in disbelief, others holding their breath. Chesua, the son of Chewa and one of the most nationalistic leaders of the Chamber of Commerce, shifted in his chair, fixing his gaze upon me with concern.
His father has surely told him of similar moves on my part in previous years, I thought, observing Chesua's expression.
In the cultures of this era, and in the empires rising across the sea, central power fought tooth and nail to monopolize the most valuable resources: metallurgy, advanced manufactured goods, and key distribution routes.
What I was proposing went against all political logic of the time. I was voluntarily relinquishing the 'crown's' absolute control over the economic arteries of the empire.
"Indeed," I continued, allowing the impact of my words to settle in the room. "We are going to decentralize the production and trade authority of these high-value goods. They will expand into each of the new macro-regions, specifically to the territories where it is strategically most advantageous due to geography and resources. The Eastern Region in Roraimá, the Lake Region, the Southern Region... each will have the autonomy to manage, produce, and directly trade these items under the supervision of their own municipalities."
Chinyia stared fixedly at the map resting in the center of the table, his mind working at a thousand revolutions per minute as he assimilated the mathematical and political implications of my declaration.
This was not a loss of control born of weakness; it was a maneuver of economic sowing.
By granting the continental regions the power to manage these promising industries, I was not only lightening the central government's bureaucratic burden, but also igniting gigantic economic engines at the realm's fringes, guaranteeing a future of unprecedented wealth that would pale the schemes of any known empire.
The room fell into an expectant silence, a vibrant tension where the initial surprise of the merchants began to transform into a clear vision of the infinite horizons opening before them.
...
The expectant silence did not last long.
Half an hour later, the solemn atmosphere of the room had transformed into a hotbed of quills scratching frantically across parchment and whispers charged with adrenaline. I had cast the first stone of our own commercial revolution, and the ripples were already striking the minds of those present.
I rose from the head of the table and walked slowly, hands clasped behind my back, as I outlined the details of the first great liberated sector: the sea.
"I have decided that the State will cease to be the sole shipbuilder of the kingdom," I announced, letting my voice resonate over the soft patter of the sea breeze against the windows. "As of today, we will release all blueprints, designs, and construction licenses up to the class of medium ships, the Wayamú."
Instantly, the gaze of the regional minister of trade for the FRFI, a man whose skin was weathered by the salt and sun of the archipelago, lit up with an almost feverish intensity.
For the Caribá region, which lived and breathed through inter-island maritime trade, securing the legal right and technical knowledge to build their own merchant fleets was not just an advancement; it was the key to absolute economic dominion over the waters. I saw him nod hastily, already calculating in his head how many private shipyards he could erect in the coming months.
Out of the corner of my eye, I sought out Chesua. The young man, who bore upon his shoulders the responsibility of continuing his father's heavy commercial legacy, leaned back in his chair with astounding tranquility, taking a sip of water. There was no trace of panic on his face in the face of this sudden 'competition.'
And why would he? I thought with a half-smile.
Chewa and his family had been intimately linked to me since the very foundations of the kingdom. They were already participants in shipbuilding. I knew perfectly well that even if civil commerce were liberated, Chesua's shipyards would still retain access to the true jewel in the crown: the military fleet.
I paused before the table and rested my knuckles on the wood to make one point utterly clear.
"Of course, this has a strategic limit. The construction of heavy galleons, Tequendama class one and two, as well as our rapid interception vessels, the Yaguar, will remain exclusively military and under strict state secrecy. We will not put our fangs up for sale. However, ..." I paused, sweeping my gaze across the room, "that the government sets a limit on its own designs does not mean you must halt. Any of your regions or guilds may invest in innovation. If you manage to develop, through your own means, engineering for vessels of greater capacity than a Wayamú, the sea is yours. The kingdom will impose no limits in that domain."
The murmur of approval was unanimous. I was giving them the fishing rod, but also the permission to invent a larger net.
"But ships require nails, ironwork, and anchors," I continued, setting the pace toward the second item on the agenda, the backbone of progress. "The metallurgical sector will also undergo an unprecedented opening. Starting this month, we will completely liberate the private production of copper, bronze, and iron."
This time, it was Chinyia who looked up from his notes, surprised. Iron was pure power.
"To ensure that quality does not decline," I added quickly, anticipating technical doubts, "the central government will sell and install specialized furnaces for each type of metal. We will provide you with the smelting technology, but you will provide the sweat and the material."
It is simple industrial mathematics, I told myself, watching them digest the news.
Not long ago, our engineers and scholars had achieved a technological miracle: establishing a mass-production system for steel. The problem was that the bottleneck was suffocating us.
The central government lacked the hands to mine and smelt the necessary raw iron in vast quantities. By involving private and regional actors, the national supply of raw iron would skyrocket exponentially. They would enrich themselves by selling us the metal, and I would use that avalanche of iron to feed our secret steel forges.
"Let it be clear," I decreed, hardening my tone. "Superior alloys, steel, and military-grade formulas will remain absolutely and exclusively controlled by the central government."
There were solemn nods. It was a more than fair bargain, and they knew it.
"Finally," I sighed, feeling us reach a point that would change the very face of the earth, "we will address an industry that is only just being born, but which will transform our continental regions: livestock farming."
Interest in the room reached its zenith. For many of our cultures, the great European beasts of burden remained a novelty, an almost mythical concept until the arrival of the Europeans.
"We will gradually liberate the livestock industry as cattle heads increase and their trade stabilizes. We will not merely deliver the animals to you; the Ministry of Labor and Agriculture will provide manuals and key knowledge for their care, selective breeding, and, above all, strict sanitary measures for disease prevention."
I could see the glint of greed and ambition in the eyes of the representatives from the Southern and Central regions. Everyone in that room had visited, or at least heard, reports regarding the FRFI.
They had seen with their own eyes the astonishing ease with which the beasts pulled plows, breaking heavy earth in a fraction of the time it took a crew of fifty men. The promise of replacing human labor with animal power in the planting fields was the golden dream of any agricultural merchant.
I crossed my arms, feeling the physical fatigue of my previous adventure fade before the energy in the room. I had planted the seed of free enterprise—controlled yet fierce. The Suaza Kingdom was about to awaken to its true productive capacity.
.
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[A/N: CHAPTER COMPLETED
Hello everyone.
Thank you all for your support. Let's get straight to the chapter comments.
CHAPTER COMMENTS
First, I want to remind you that Chuta has exported 'modern' trade practices to the Kingdom, but more specifically, the trade system.
At this time, it was very common for 'common' people to only trade for food, animals, tools, and simple clothing. Anything extra simply meant the same items but of better quality.
The worst part is that certain people, specifically merchants and nobles, took what little profit they had, lining their pockets through these maneuvers.
Meanwhile, the merchants and nobles traded luxury goods, in addition to the same items as the common people, but of much higher quality.
What Chuta does is what is done now.
Give the rich rich people products and the poor poor people products. (It sounds bad, but that's how it is.)
How did Chuta do it?
First, he increased agricultural production, preventing it from becoming a limiting factor, and at the same time, he improved the quality of housing.
With a roof over their heads and enough food, he offered them goods that would help them.
You have more than enough food, but you want to improve production just in case... I'll give you bronze tools.
You already have bronze tools and more production... so get better clothing.
You already have better clothing and tools, and more resources... so I'll give you the materials and techniques to improve your home.
...
You already have practically many comforts, more resources, your son is getting married and wants to live alone... So, everything from the beginning.
That's practically what Chuta did.
He encouraged a better life, introduced new businesses that would provide this goal, and at the same time, showed you that following his ideas could lead to prosperity.
AUTHOR'S COMMENTS
First, I'm really sorry for the long comment, but I don't think many people will read it anyway, haha.
By the way, more maps today, and if I don't upload them, remind me and I'll gather more for the next day.
Vongola, I don't know if you're reading this or if you read my reply, but I'll just say that the places I think you pointed out are a gulf and a lake in Venezuela.
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Read my other novels.
#The Walking Dead: Vision of the Future (Chapter 91) (ON HOLD)
#The Walking Dead: Emily's Metamorphosis (Chapter 34) (ON HOLD)
#The Walking Dead: Patient 0 - Lyra File (Chapter 14) (ON HOLD)
You can find them on my profile.]