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THE CURRENCY PROTOCOL

  CHAPTER 14: THE CURRENCY PROTOCOL

  [MARKET INNOVATION: SOUL-CREDITS]

  [MINTING STATUS: ACTIVE]

  [EXCHANGE RATE: 1 SC = 1 HOUR OF LABOR]

  Gold is a clumsy medium for a dungeon. It has to be mined, minted, and transported. It’s a physical weight that slows down the velocity of trade. I sat in the vault, watching the Core spin a thread of pure violet energy into small, crystalline chips. I didn't want the Empire’s coins anymore. I wanted a currency that was backed by the only thing that actually mattered in the Wastes: Mana.

  I didn't call it 'Money.' I called it the 'Oasis Credit.'

  Each chip was keyed to the Core. They couldn't be forged. They couldn't be stolen without the Core knowing. And most importantly, they could only be spent within my walls.

  "Lilo, report to the vault," I said.

  A few minutes later, Lilo walked in. He looked at the piles of glowing violet chips. "What are these, Gray? More toys?"

  "I didn't bring you here to play, Lilo. I brought you here to distribute the first payroll. From today, no gold will be accepted in the commissary or the barracks. All transactions will be handled via these credits."

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  Lilo picked up a chip. It hummed in his hand. "The men have gold, Gray. They’ve been looting caravans for years. You think they’re just going to give it up for purple glass?"

  "I didn't say they had to give it up. I said they couldn't spend it here. If they want to eat my food, drink my water, and sleep in my cooled rooms, they use my currency. If they want to keep their gold, they can go spend it in the desert. I’m sure the sand-worms have a very fair exchange rate."

  Lilo shook his head. "You're building a cage, Gray. A beautiful, basalt cage."

  "I didn't build a cage, Lilo. I built an economy. A cage implies people want to leave. My men have food, safety, and a future. The Guild offers them a chance to die for a 'Legend.' I offer them a chance to live for a 'Credit.' Which one do you think they’ll choose when the sun comes up?"

  "They'll choose the one that keeps them alive," Lilo admitted. "But they’ll hate you for making them choose."

  "I didn't ask for their affection. I asked for their labor. Take the payroll. Tell Lito that the first market opens at eighteen-hundred hours. We’re selling real ale tonight. Three credits a pint."

  I watched the first market through the security crystals. It was a fascinating study in human behavior. At first, the soldiers were suspicious. They held the violet chips as if they were cursed. But then the first keg was tapped. The scent of hops and cold malt filled the air—a luxury they hadn't seen in months.

  The first soldier stepped up. He traded a credit. He got a pint.

  By midnight, the 'Oasis Credit' was the most valuable thing in the building. The soldiers were already talking about how many credits they could earn on the next shift. They weren't thinking about the Guild. They weren't thinking about their old lives. They were thinking about the next pint.

  I didn't smile as I recorded the first day's internal revenue.

  [TOTAL CREDITS MINTED: 10,000]

  [TOTAL CREDITS CIRCULATING: 1,200]

  [GOLD RESERVES INCREASED: 400 (EXCHANGE FEES)]

  I had successfully untethered the Oasis from the Empire’s financial system. I was now the central bank of the Southern Wastes.

  I didn't feel like a hero. I felt like a man who had finally found a way to make the numbers stop lying to him.

  But as I looked at the chips, I knew the Guild wouldn't stay silent for long. I had taken their heroes. I had taken their road. And now, I was taking their money.

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