"Okay, then, let's start with this merit system that you proposed, because none of us have really considered it yet. I take it that you already have a framework for us to use?" Karl asked as he looked toward Orazio. Internally, however, he was complaining about the reliability of technology these days, because the room looked lively and full of people despite the fact that almost everyone present was merely a hologram. Mana interference kept disrupting the projections, creating strange visual effects that would have been impressive under different circumstances, but were mostly irritating during an important negotiation.
Orazio was currently flickering in and out of existence every few seconds, his image briefly becoming transparent before snapping back into focus. The audio connection, thankfully, was working perfectly because the system had several backups dedicated specifically to communications. Karl could tolerate a little distortion in someone's voice, but watching an important negotiator repeatedly disappear was doing nothing for his patience. It was difficult to maintain a serious atmosphere when Orazio's head occasionally vanished while he was speaking.
"Yes, I do have a suggestion," Orazio replied calmly. "I think we can all agree that a merit system is an important mechanic for factions to have, especially once their members begin reaching higher stages." He paused briefly before continuing, clearly aware that he was introducing something that could have enormous consequences. "If one of your members breaks through to Stage One, the System itself provides assistance with establishing a merit system through the faction's control tabs, including ways to assign value to different rewards."
The statement immediately attracted everyone's attention, even though most of the people present maintained expressions of complete indifference. Orazio had casually mentioned that some members of his own family had already reached Stage One, which meant they had firsthand experience with the System's functions. The merit system itself was relatively simple, as it primarily created tokens representing a person's accumulated merit and recorded how that merit had been earned. The important part was not the tokens themselves, but what factions could potentially use them to purchase.
"These systems are going to exist regardless of whether we officially recognize them," Orazio continued. "Factions like yours already have opportunities that are useful to their members, and naturally, you will want to distribute those opportunities according to what people contribute to the faction." He leaned back slightly as his holographic image stabilized for once. "The problem is that many of those rewards cannot simply be purchased with ordinary money, because their value comes from membership itself."
That was something everyone understood.
The great houses, trade families, guilds, and other powerful organizations all possessed resources that could not easily be purchased on the open market. Access to specialized breathing methods was one example, while training, information, techniques, equipment, and certain privileges were others. Someone might spend years contributing to a faction in the hope of receiving one of those opportunities, only to discover that the rules had changed without warning. That was where Orazio believed the greatest danger lay.
"We are already paying salaries to our members," Orazio said. "However, if we were to replace some of those salaries with merit points, an organization could potentially save thousands of silver coins every year." His expression became more serious as he explained the problem. "That might sound efficient, but it creates an enormous number of opportunities for abuse."
Karl slowly nodded.
Everyone could imagine the situation Orazio was describing. A member could work for an organization for years, accumulating merit with the expectation that it could eventually be exchanged for a valuable opportunity. Then, one day, the organization could simply announce that the reward no longer existed or that its price had increased dramatically. Even worse, someone might decide to exchange their accumulated merit for ordinary currency, only to discover that the organization had arbitrarily decided that years of work were worth almost nothing.
"That would be a complete disaster," Orazio said bluntly. "Imagine someone working for ten years to accumulate enough merit for an opportunity, only to be told that the opportunity has increased in price. Then, when they ask to exchange their merit for money instead, they are told that everything they earned is worth two copper coins."
Several people visibly grimaced.
"So my proposal is that we allow merit systems to exist," Orazio continued. "Trying to police every individual merit system would be an administrative nightmare. Instead, we establish a legal value for merit itself." He paused and looked around the room. "For now, I would suggest that one merit should be worth one silver coin."
The proposal caused the atmosphere to change immediately.
"One silver coin per merit?" Karl repeated, making sure he had heard correctly.
"Yes," Orazio said. "That establishes a minimum value that organizations cannot simply erase. More importantly, every person should always have the ability to reclaim the monetary value of their accumulated merit if they decide to leave the organization."
"That creates another problem," Samonte said.
Orazio nodded.
"It means organizations would need enough actual money to cover the merit they issue," Samonte continued. "Otherwise, the entire system becomes a promise backed by nothing."
"Exactly," Orazio replied. "Which is why I propose that organizations be required to deposit the corresponding funds with the European Central Bank."
The room became silent.
The proposal was considerably more significant than it initially sounded. If an organization issued one million merit points, it would effectively need to have one million silver coins secured somewhere to back them. The money would not belong to the organization in the normal sense anymore, because it would be held specifically to guarantee the value of the merit that had been distributed.
"And before anyone asks," Orazio added, "the money would remain protected from the organization's creditors and other financial problems. The entire purpose is to make sure that a person's accumulated merit cannot suddenly become worthless because the faction that issued it made a terrible financial decision."
He glanced toward Samonte.
"And to make sure those greedy bankers keep their hands off the money," Orazio added. "No offense."
"No offense taken," Samonte replied with a pleasant smile.
His expression, however, was anything but pleasant.
"I know the reputation my peers have," Samonte continued. "And, frankly, they have earned much of it."
Orazio cleared his throat.
"Right. As I was saying, I propose that we write into the constitution that the bank is only allowed to use thirty percent of those funds." His holographic image flickered again, briefly leaving him looking like a ghost. "The remaining seventy percent must remain locked away and immediately available to cover outstanding merit."
Samonte's eyes narrowed with interest.
"Interesting," he said. "I understand what you're trying to accomplish."
He straightened in his chair.
"If the legal protection is strong enough, these merit systems could effectively become another foundation of the European economy," Samonte explained. "Merit will naturally be less liquid than ordinary money because most people will not immediately exchange it for currency. That means the bank could maintain extremely deep reserves while still allowing the factions and their members to have financial security."
He tapped his fingers against the table.
"The consumers are protected because seventy percent of the corresponding funds remain untouched. The organizations also benefit because they can effectively have access to part of their reserves without needing to withdraw everything immediately." Samonte smiled. "Meanwhile, the bank receives access to enormous reserves that can be invested in productive projects."
"That is precisely why I like the idea," Orazio replied.
"It is also why we need extremely severe punishments," Gustaw interrupted.
Everyone looked toward him.
"If someone attempts to steal, manipulate, or illegally access those reserves, the punishment needs to be enormous," Gustaw said firmly. "I think the minimum penalty should be death. Otherwise, someone will eventually decide that the potential profit is worth the risk."
There was a moment of silence.
"I understand the sentiment," Orazio said carefully. "Although the exact punishment will obviously require legal review."
Gustaw shrugged.
"As long as the punishment is severe enough to discourage anyone from touching money that does not belong to them."
Karl leaned back in his chair.
The idea was beginning to make sense. A properly regulated merit system could prevent powerful factions from exploiting their members while simultaneously creating a massive financial reserve for Europe. It also solved another problem that had become increasingly obvious since the arrival of mana. As organizations gained access to increasingly valuable techniques and opportunities, ordinary wages were no longer enough to describe everything they offered their members.
"Do we all agree?" Orazio asked.
One after another, the holograms remained silent.
No one objected.
Orazio allowed himself a small smile. The proposal still required an enormous amount of work before it could be presented to parliament, but the basic structure had survived the first discussion. That alone was a victory.
"There is still a lot of work to do," Karl said. "We will need to determine exactly how merit is issued, recorded, transferred, and redeemed. We also need safeguards against organizations simply creating impossible amounts of merit."
"And we will need to make sure the System's own mechanics are accounted for," Orazio added. "Otherwise, we might create laws that contradict something the System automatically does."
Karl nodded.
"That can be dealt with later."
Gustaw, however, was already thinking about another problem.
"Now that we are talking about punishments," he said, "what are we going to do about prisoners?"
Several people immediately looked annoyed.
Gustaw's expression became genuinely horrified as he considered the consequences. Humanity's life expectancy had increased dramatically, and prisons were already struggling to deal with the consequences. If people were going to live considerably longer, then simply continuing to use the old prison system would eventually become impossible. A criminal sentenced to several decades could now potentially remain incarcerated for far longer than the old system had ever been designed to handle.
"Oh, please," Fabian Bingen muttered.
He was already looking through documents related to one of his newest medical projects. The blue pills that had once been extremely effective against certain problems were becoming less useful, and Fabian had several ideas for replacing them. More research funding was never a bad thing, especially when the medical field was changing as rapidly as everything else.
Fabian barely looked up from his documents.
"That is not relevant to the current discussion, and I certainly do not want to discuss it right now," he said. "Put it on the agenda for another meeting."
Gustaw stared at him.
"You just don't want to stay here any longer."
Fabian did not deny it.
"Correct."
For the first time that morning, Karl laughed.
The meeting had barely begun, and already everyone was looking for ways to escape it.
"Fine," Orazio said. "Prison reform can wait."