Interest was like Icarus's wings. Fly too high, and it easily turned into usury before crashing down hard. Necker had replaced tax increases with usury to recoup France's losses in the American Revolutionary War, increasing the burden on the people. Fortunately, the countryside had not erupted into grain riots or peasant uprisings.
Nor could it fly too low. There would always be people profiting from it. The Federal Reserve lent at only 1% interest, while other mortgage companies charged clients around 5%. They did almost nothing and simply pocketed the 4% difference.
Likewise, neither farmers nor city dwellers buying grain profited from food speculation. So when interest was turned into taxes, setting the rate became a technical matter. Balance had to be maintained, and oversight was also necessary. One careless misstep could have very serious consequences.
French bankers were not as willing to take risks as British ones. Forget farmers—even factory owners found it difficult to borrow from them. Farmers had no choice but to turn to loan sharks.
With tax collectors handling it, it was practically a guaranteed profit. Even if the interest rate was lower, there was still money to be made through volume.
As long as the weather remained favorable and no natural disasters struck, the losses would not be too great. Add agricultural insurance, and it would be even more foolproof.
Farmers could also choose for themselves whether to borrow. A change in social customs did not mean everyone suddenly became simple and virtuous. The mortal world was like this: suffering never ceased, and it was nowhere near as pure as the Pure Land. There were all kinds of people.
Severus took the captured prisoner away from the church and returned to Luxembourg. Another man had accidentally seen the Basilisk's reflection in the water and been