I Possessed a Game Where I Die If I Don’t Clear the Tower - Chapter 51

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 51. The Promise of Gold
Gold’s utility in the Dark Tower is limited.
Equipment and consumable purchases.
City upgrades.
Recruiting allies.
Perhaps that’s why by around the fifth year, it’s common to see millions accumulating.
‘But in reality, it doesn’t stop at merely that.’
Gold is one of the most powerful forms of wealth capable of moving the world.
Especially in the medieval era where credit currency amounts to nothing more than promissory notes, it transcends mere power—it becomes a strategic weapon.
‘Gold divides friendships, gold sets families against one another, and gold ultimately creates war.’
Like the words of Franz Fanon, the Algerian independence activist, gold was born as a commodity for conflict.
Dislike a particular territory?
Simply pour gold endlessly into it and trigger hyperinflation.
If flour that cost silver coins yesterday now requires gold coins the next day, the lord would likely change within a month.
Prefer something flashier over taking time?
Then lend money to the lord of the territory right next to the one you dislike.
There’s no need to whisper in their ear about what to do with it or where to spend it.
Most lords of any renown in the Dark Tower are ambitious psychopaths.
The moment they have money, they think of war first—they’d naturally gather mercenaries and attack the neighboring territory.
‘Netanel can’t possibly not know what I know. A Gold Slime—honestly, isn’t it something to covet?’
Camilia pressed down on Netanel Fragma’s hand clutching the gold coins and whispered.
“You witness a world where gold flows infinitely, yet you’re satisfied with merely gathering donation funds? Is that what a Priest of the Golden Scales should be thinking? I’m truly disappointed.”
Netanel Fragma answered with an awkward smile.
“It’s not mine—it’s my employer’s gold. How could I covet what isn’t mine?”
“If it were to become yours?”
Eyes containing irises that shimmered like opals curved like fishing hooks.
“If you had the chance to hold vast riches, what would you be willing to give up?”
“…My lady, why are you saying this? You’re being so serious that it doesn’t sound like a joke anymore.”
Rather than answer with ‘It’s not a joke though?’, Camilia broached a different subject.
“This world, this realm is far too primitive to accept the doctrine of the Scales.”
From the perspective of a Priest of the Golden Scales—the god who protects merchants and commerce—the Dark Tower’s world is hell itself.
The economy never transcends cities and territories.
Currency and units aren’t even standardized, so transactions fluctuate with every exchange.
And that’s not all. No one keeps contracts or honors their word.
Lords borrow money from merchants to wage war, and when they lose, they simply default.
Kings are no different.
When money runs short, they wage war or squeeze their subjects—they never think to develop commerce.
Great merchants become paupers overnight if they fall out of favor with the powerful, and even with contracts written, if someone strong refuses to honor them, it’s as though the agreement never existed.
Yet Netanel Fragma keeps even unfair contracts with all their might simply because they are contracts.
For them, the very existence of this world must be unbearable blasphemy.
“Netanel Fragma, you must have suffered and agonized for countless years. Yet you received neither reward for your efforts nor even understanding.”
It was only natural. Nobility and royalty would never bow their heads to mere merchants and merchant gods.
But despite repeated failures, Netanel Fragma never surrendered.
She searched desperately for hope in every direction.
“So you came to my domain, didn’t you? Clinging to a mere legend that a sacred relic of the Golden Scales sleeps within The Tower.”
Netanel Fragma, who had been gazing down at my face as if entranced, suddenly snapped back to awareness and replied.
“Ah, well, I’m delighted that you understand me so well, my employer, but why must we have this conversation? Our transaction has already been established.”
She questioned me carefully, like a merchant scrutinizing a contract.
“I provide labor, and in return, you help me find the sacred relic. Wasn’t that our agreement?”
Netanel Fragma was visibly tense, mentioning the sacred relic so directly. She regarded me with a wary gaze.
“Surely you don’t wish to repay me in gold instead of the sacred relic?”
“The sacred relic will naturally become yours. What I’m asking about is what comes after you obtain it. What will you do if the sacred relic fulfills neither your desires nor those of your sect?”
“…You believe I will fail?”
“You will fail.”
The name of the sacred relic sleeping in The Tower was the Golden Scales.
Because it bore the god’s name directly, the Golden Scales possessed a simple yet extraordinarily potent power.
Any oath sworn upon the scales would be absolutely kept.
Netanel Fragma and the Golden Scale Sect believed this relic would become the symbol of divine will.
But their dream would fail mercilessly.
Because they could not prevent those with power from coercing oaths through force, nor stop the powerful from using the scales to their advantage.
‘Even if they choose to abandon the sacred relic, the outcome differs little.’
True to a dark fantasy game devoid of dreams and hope, every ending in Netanel Fragma’s personal story was cruelly identical.
‘But I can achieve what Netanel Fragma desires. At least I can show her the direction.’
I was a modern person, and the modern world was a paradise such as the apostles of the Golden Scales could only dream of.
“Have you ever imagined a world where everyone uses the same weights and measures, where transactions occur without quarrels over calibration marks?”
For Netanel Fragma, it was a dream, but for me, it was an experience from my past.
Though there existed a mad nation that clung to absurd units like yards and pounds, even destroying spacecraft over them, Earth possessed international standard units.
“A world where credit is a valuable measure, where anyone who keeps their word and conducts business faithfully receives respect?”
A world where everyone knows their own credit score.
A world where credit transactions reached their apex, allowing even future value to be exchanged.
I had lived in such a world.
I knew dozens of ways to improve the Dark Tower’s senseless, barbaric economic system.
As a bonus, I knew very well how to economically crush the royalty and nobility that Netanel Fragma had yearned to surpass her entire life.
“I know a world greater than what you dream of. Far greater. And I know how to bring it to this realm.”
Do you want it?
Do you truly wish to achieve it?
I spoke thus, staring intently into her wavering golden eyes.
Netanel Fragma clenched the platinum coin resting in her palm fiercely, remaining silent for a long moment.
Then she barely exhaled before answering.
“The question of whether you truly can do this seems meaningless. Yet if I dare ask… why do you promise me something so great, so immense?”
“How amusing. The reason for proposing a deal is hardly obscure, is it?”
Netanel Fragma understood her meaning without difficulty.
“You need my assistance, so you’re offering me something I require in return.”
“Precisely. Isn’t that what a deal is?”
Camilia gently brushed her fingers across his pallid cheek.
Though he appeared boyish, Netanel Fragma was a half-elf.
Seventy years old this year.
His desires burned as fiercely as the days he had lived.
And his wrath alongside them.
“Don’t you wish to see those nobles and kingdoms who wield the scales’ balance as they please, who escape all consequence, crushed beneath gold?”
Camilia lowered her voice to a whisper.
Don’t you want to prove that your faith was never misplaced, that the scales are truly the most formidable weapon in this world?
“I swear it. Accept this deal, and I shall spread your faith from where the sun rises to where it sets.”
“…And what must I place upon the scales in exchange?”
Camilia answered without hesitation.
“Netanel Fragma. And your sect.”
To complete The Tower’s conquest by year three and achieve the happy ending, the sect’s cooperation was essential.
And among all available options, the Golden Scale Sect possessed the most manageable drawbacks.
‘At least with the Golden Scales, a deal is possible.’
Camilia made her declaration.
“If you and yours follow me to the very summit of The Tower, I shall gladly pay the price.”
Haven’t I already repaid my debts and revealed the Gold Slime?
Haven’t I granted profitable rights to the Golden Fleece Trading Company?
Isn’t that a quality investment?
Camilia waited with an air of composure, her eyes fixed with unwavering confidence.
Netanel Fragma, who had been studying her face intently, spoke in an uncharacteristically uncertain voice.
“…If you would grant me time to consider such a momentous proposal….”
“I am not a merciful lord. Least of all toward those who hesitate even when given opportunity.”
“Even favorable terms require careful review of the contract. This seems rather unfair treatment, doesn’t it?”
“An unfair contract is still a contract.”
At her brazen response, Netanel Fragma laughed in disbelief.
“First an inequitable contract, now an unfair one—you are the first employer to attempt such crude dealings with an apostle of the scales.”
But, Netanel Fragma continued.
“Sometimes great deals require taking a chance.”
He opened his hand holding the platinum coin and flipped it over.
Naturally, their hands overlapped.
“If I and my sect offer you our complete cooperation, might I make my first oath before the sacred one in return?”
He was suggesting they draft a formal contract later, since verbal agreements could not be trusted.
Even so, it was a momentous decision.
He was wagering his own fate and that of his sect on someone he had met face-to-face less than a month ago.
Someone else might have felt the weight of it, but Camilia did not.
Even if something went wrong and she witnessed a bad ending, it wouldn’t be just her and the Golden Scale Sect that fell—everyone else would perish alongside them.
‘So there’s no reason to hesitate.’
Camilia answered while gripping Netanel Fragma’s hand firmly.
“I promise you.”
“If that promise is true, the scales shall tip in your favor.”
Netanel Fragma clasped her hand in return.
In that same instant, a thunderous alarm erupted across the system window.
[You have formed an alliance (neutral) with the Golden Scale Sect.]
[Remarkable Achievement!]
[Diplomacy has been officially unlocked!]

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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