Privateering

Gras City.

The sky was always gloomy. Countless factories sprawled across the outskirts, wantonly using child labor and the like. The new capitalists tried every means imaginable to squeeze their workers, sparing no effort when it came to cutting costs.

These sweatshops were said to kill any adult who entered within five years. Yet they were the very places that had forged Ingsman's glorious prosperity.

In the city center, Gothic buildings rose like spires, and a massive clock tower rang out the hour.

The streets were always crowded with people hurrying to and fro. Black bowler hats, gray overcoats, and walking sticks formed the standard gentleman's attire of the day.

A splendid carriage drawn by two black steeds rolled across a bridge of classical design.

Donald opened the window. Before him lay a river choked with black filth and reeking of rot, plainly suffering from severe pollution. He couldn't help frowning.

As an Ocean Sorcerer, he hated places like this, especially such wanton harm to the water supply.

Unfortunately, as a newly famous economist, he would have little effect even if he spoke out against it. This was the tide of a great age.

The carriage continued on and stopped before a magnificent estate as grand as a palace.

Birdsong and fragrant flowers filled the air, and servants were everywhere.

All this left Donald feeling profoundly dazed, as though he had stepped straight from hell into heaven.

"Are you Mr. Donald?"

A butler in a tailcoat opened the carriage door himself and bowed slightly. "His Grace the Duke has been waiting for you for some time!"

This was Duke Ham's residence.

At present, Ingsman was ostensibly ruled by the Royal Family, but much of the real power lay in the hands of Parliament and the Prime Minister.

Of course, the