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The currencies of the entire world floated freely. At the current exchange rate, one Gevra Gepru could be exchanged for 2.2 Federal Thor. Translated, an hourly wage of sixty-eight cents in Gepru amounted to about 1.50 bucks per hour.

Ten hours of work equaled fifteen bucks. If a worker could put in a full month—opportunities and jobs were abundant in this land of promise—they could earn around four hundred and fifty bucks. This sum was double the average income of the working class in the Federation.

Through wage levels alone, one could discern the disparity between the two nations. Some Federates didn't necessarily believe their country lagged behind Gevra, but comparing wages made the gap glaringly obvious—at least economically, it existed.

The mayor gave a slight nod, remaining silent as he waited for Lynch to continue.

Lynch smiled faintly. "Now, let me ask you this: Do you know how much a worker in Nagalier earns in a day?"

The mayor shook his head. He had never been to Nagalier and knew little about the country before this diplomatic outreach.

Lynch revealed a figure that widened the mayor's eyes. "One buck—one Federal Thor. Just one Thor can hire a worker from Nagalier for twelve grueling hours. And if you throw in some hearty lunches and dinners, they'll work even harder."

"If we bring ten thousand workers from Nagalier to the Ameliea region, our monthly expenditure on wages and other costs would hover between four hundred thousand and five hundred thousand. But the revenue generated would be at least four million. Deducting operational expenses, we'd still net roughly three and a half million in pure profit."

Though Lynch's tone hadn't changed, the mayor couldn't help but feel a subtle allure beneath the surface. Perhaps he misheard, but the idea stirred something within him.

"Nagalier has a population of two hundred million. If we mobilize all of them, every month we could rake in eighty billion…."

He exhaled sharply.

The mayor straightened up, his breathing growing heavy and rapid. Eighty billion.

While he knew this was an idealized scenario, impossible to achieve in reality, he was nonetheless stunned by the sheer enormity of the number. Theoretically, Lynch's proposal wasn't riddled with flaws.

Well, not entirely without flaws. At least the Ameliea region didn't need such an overwhelming influx of labor; they only required a fraction of it.

But the world wasn't limited to Ameliea. Other regions had markets and opportunities too.

After a minute or so, the mayor finally calmed himself and began to question. "If there's such a market, and we can exploit it, others surely can as well."

Lynch smiled faintly and produced the Colofu Mr. Waldric had given him—a golden, luxurious Colofu.

This kind of consumable didn't run out in a single use. Any high-end Colofu came with its own reusable outer packaging, and this one was no exception.

As the mayor gazed at the pale gold casing, Lynch started to seem more amiable.

The intoxicating aroma made the mayor's mouth water. Miraculously, Lynch pulled out another one and offered it to him. "This is Mr. Waldric's personal supply. I had to beg him for it."

The mayor hesitated briefly but accepted it. Sometimes, the value of such a luxury wasn't in its price tag but in what class it represented—one that allowed those who indulged in it to touch a higher sphere.

The mayor wasn't an alumnus of the Society of the Sacred Harmony institutions, nor was he a member of the elite circle. He needed this little indulgence more than most.

After savoring the top-tier Colofu, the mayor praised Mr. Waldric from thousands of miles away, then steered the conversation back to business.

"You're absolutely right," Lynch said, drawing deeply on the Colofu and exhaling with satisfaction. "We can do it, but so can others. That's precisely why we're pushing for diplomatic relations with Nagalier—even if it means risking war."

"As long as we defeat Gevra's Royal Navy in naval combat, no one will dare touch our share of the pie."

The mayor sighed thoughtfully. He had never considered this layer of complexity before, revealing how much he still didn't know. This realization softened both his tone and demeanor.

"What about public opinion?" he asked. "The trade and use of slaves is illegal worldwide, even in Gevra."

People often assumed monarchies were inherently backward and feudal, plagued by ugly, dark practices. But Gevra, though a monarchy, wasn't regressive.

On the issue of slavery, Gevra stood united with the rest of the world, voluntarily opposing the capture, trade, and exploitation of slaves.

"I told you," Lynch said, his posture relaxed, "this isn't slavery—it's labor export. We'll recruit workers from Nagalier under the guise of a labor company. The rulers of Nagalier will assist us because our labor company will include shares owned by them."

By now, the mayor had few objections left, though he refrained from interrupting—basic courtesy demanded it.

"We'll promise these locals a chance to work abroad," Lynch continued. "They'll receive decent wages, while a portion of the funds will subsidize their government. The ruling class benefits too. No one will oppose it."

"As for accusations of slavery, they're baseless. Everyone is free, with independent wills. If they don't want to work anymore, they can return home or leave whenever they wish. We're not evil slavers—we're simply businessmen."

The mayor nodded noncommittally. "So how do we give back to our local businesses and people?"

His tone carried a hint of deference. "If we're just enriching ourselves, I doubt anyone would willingly share their profits with others. You wouldn't either, would you?"

"Of course not," Lynch replied. "That brings me to my next point: using Nagalier's workforce to support the Federation's workers."

In Lynch's plan, merely exporting Nagalier's labor wasn't sustainable in the long run. These workers could only perform the simplest, most basic physical tasks.

They lacked proper education, exposure to modern production methods, and knowledge of machinery to ease their burdens. But Federation workers were different. They understood machines and advanced techniques. Their presence could amplify the productivity of Nagalier's workers.

Two Nagalier workers could sustain one Federation worker. With Sabin City's population barely reaching three hundred thousand, only thirty to fifty thousand might truly need employment. These numbers would easily be overshadowed by Nagalier's endless stream of labor.

Beyond sending Federation workers abroad as technical advisors, importing some Nagalier labor could also revitalize Federation factories.

Lower wages meant reduced costs, unlocking greater profit margins and making products more competitive.

Despite foreign goods flooding the Federation market and undermining domestic industries, lowering costs and prices would tip the scales back in their favor. After all, competitors couldn't eliminate certain expenses—like shipping fees.

This was where local enterprises held an edge. Their products went directly from production to shelves. Lower labor costs—the largest expense—combined with minimal shipping fees and competitive pricing, maintained healthy profits. Many struggling businesses could make miraculous comebacks.

Soon, it wouldn't be foreign goods flooding the Federation—it would be Federation goods flooding the world.

This was the unique aspect of light industry and manufacturing: labor costs constituted a significant portion of profits and were unavoidable.

Cutting labor costs would unleash an explosive wave in these sectors.

Listening to Lynch's meticulous plan, the mayor realized it hadn't been concocted overnight. Lynch must have had the entire blueprint ready, even orchestrating diplomatic ties with Nagalier to execute his vision.

Had anyone mentioned these ideas before Lynch's trip to Nagalier? No. It was all this young man's doing.

The mayor concealed his astonishment and unease, extinguishing the Colofu and stowing it in its silver case. He looked at Lynch. "What can I do?"

"Guide," Lynch said firmly. "When conditions allow, people may hesitate to be the first to step outside their borders. We need to encourage them."

"Simultaneously, we must instill a new concept—from small workshops to small factories."

As Lynch expanded his network of home-based workshops across Sabin City, families rented his sewing machines and borrowed money from him to buy raw materials for production.

For each specified item produced, they earned between ten to fifty cents.

Initially, many doubted this model would work; people weren't accustomed to it. But those skeptics were proven wrong.

Lynch's family workshop model gained popularity. Everyone did the math: if they worked a bit harder, they could earn more than ever before. Why wouldn't they seize the opportunity?

Though the Workers' Union charged management fees and assigned orders, Lynch believed that one day, these small workshops would kick the union to the curb.

The first step? Hiring Nagalier laborers to produce for them.

A new, countercultural wave of production was brewing.

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