Chương 109: Chapter 108: A Currency Crisis, and the Instant Noodle Standard

The central market of the Tartarus capital reeked of mineral dust and the damp, moldy air of a dying economy. THUD! A hulking Demon-race man with short horns dropped a fifty-catty burlap sack onto the stone counter of a vegetable stall. Thousands of misshapen, cast-iron Cursed Iron coins spilled out across the table, clattering dryly. The old vegetable-stall owner glanced at the pile of coins, spat, then reached into his basket and pulled out...

one shriveled potato, no bigger than a chicken egg, tossing it into the buyer's hand.

"Fifty catties of scrap iron only buys one potato. Price goes up to sixty catties this afternoon. Take it or leave." The Demon-race man clenched the withered potato in his fist and trudged away without a word. Three hundred years under a formal civilian embargo from the great human empires had devastated legal imports, especially food and medicine. Smuggled luxury goods, neutral intermediaries, border finance, and elite procurement still existed — but they did not feed ordinary markets.

To fund their military campaigns, the Twelve Demon Lords had kept forges churning out millions of tons of worthless iron scrip with no backing whatsoever, driving inflation up to four hundred percent a year. The currency had devalued to the point that people would rather barter paving stones than use the government's own money. Clack... At the busiest crossroads in the market, a folding wooden table went up.

Lucian, in his ash-grey traveling cloak, sat cross-legged on a canvas stool, a jade abacus clicking away in his hands. Behind him, Astra, in a modest floral dress, stood with her arms crossed, the Sun-Slaying Dragon Sword ready to protect him. Around the table sat hundreds of cardboard boxes printed with steaming bowls of noodles, and bright red bottles of hot sauce, shipped straight from the Floor 1 factory of the World Tower. Lucian drove a wooden sign into the ground.

'VANCE FOREIGN EXCHANGE & CONSUMER RELIEF STATION — PILOT MARKET DISTRICT: - 1 case Vance Spicy Beef Instant Noodles (24 packs) = 10 tons raw Tartarus iron ore. - 1 bottle Super-Spicy Arcane Hot Sauce = 5 premium dark-mana gems. - Meal vouchers redeemable against actual Vance food inventory. Free hot water provided on-site.' By noon, a line of Demon-race customers had wrapped around the plaza.

Cart after cart, loaded with pure black iron ore, rolled in, dumping their loads into piles rising like small mountains in front of Lucian, trading them for boxes of instant noodles still fragrant with flour and seasoning powder. If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it. Slurp... slurp... A whole corner of the market filled with the sharp, spicy aroma of beef broth and fried garlic.

Hundreds of horned demons sat crouched along the sidewalk, cradling steaming paper bowls of noodles, slurping the broth while tears streamed down their faces.

"MSG... this is the sweetness of human salt and seasoning!"

"Ten years and this is the first thing I've eaten that isn't charred beast meat!"

"The Nameless Knight isn't our enemy... he's the Food God saving our stomachs!" Evelyn, in her grease-stained work coat, sat beside Lucian with a data tablet, watching thousands of once-hostile demons meekly slurping instant noodles, nearly choking on her coffee from laughing.

"Gold standard? Oil standard? No — multiversal history will record this as the first Instant Noodle Standard in the history of mankind." Buzz... buzz... The magical hand mirror in Lucian's coat pocket lit up. Lucian pressed the connection button. Princess Eleanor's face appeared on the crystal surface, her blue eyes fixed on the sight of Lucian counting up towering piles of dark-mana gems.

"Are you collapsing the Demon Realm's thousand-year currency system with instant noodles now, classmate Vance?" Lucian clicked away at his abacus, answering with total composure.

"I'm not collapsing anything. This is flexible fiscal policy based on the actual nutritional needs of consumers." Eleanor let out a small laugh through the screen.

"I just approved thirty more truckloads of flour for export through the same Crown-approved pilot corridor on your behalf. Make sure you pay the full export tax to the royal treasury." Ting! A Unified System V2. 0 notification appeared before him. [PILOT COMMODITY VOUCHER ESTABLISHED IN PARTICIPATING MARKET DISTRICT!] ['Continental Oligarch' Class leveled up: Lv. 2!] [PROJECTED NET INCOME FROM EXCHANGE-RATE ARBITRAGE: +8, 000, 000 GOLD/MONTH, BASED ON FIRST-DAY EXCHANGE VOLUME AND KNOWN COSTS.] [INITIAL VOUCHER RATE: 1 meal voucher = 1 noodle pack, redeemable against Vance inventory. Local Cursed Iron offers remain too volatile for a stable weapon-price comparison.] Lucian pulled out his quill and stamped the [⭕] seal onto a stack of pre-printed parchment notes — the very first Instant Noodle Banknotes, redeemable directly for ready-to-eat food. The Demon-race citizens accepted the glowing notes, tucking them into their coats like the most sacred treasures imaginable.

In the participating market district, Vance-backed meal vouchers had begun to circulate because people could actually redeem them for food; whether that spread further would depend on supply, trust, and time. Fifty meters away, on a cracked stone sidewalk. A gaunt Demon-race mother carried a bowl of steaming instant noodles, carefully spooning fragrant broth into the mouths of her two small children huddled on the porch.

The two demon children, tiny grey horns just starting to show, sipped the warm broth and broke into the brightest smiles they'd worn in years of hunger. Lucian watched the scene from a distance, taking a sip of herbal tea, leaning back against his canvas stool. No guns, no fabricated peace treaty. For that day, at least, hot food and the queues around it mattered more than marching to the border for some lord's ambition. Lucian quietly noted that fed civilians were much harder to mobilize with hunger alone. Clack.

Clack. Footsteps crossed the stone. Astra, in her modest floral dress, carried a freshly cooked bowl of spicy instant noodles over to the wooden table. She set the bowl down in front of Lucian, and with her other hand, pulled out a black dragonhide challenge letter, stained with dried blood.

"Lucian... the Black Demon Grand Arena in the West just sent this declaration of war." Lucian picked up his chopsticks, glanced at the challenge letter's seal — marked with the sign of the Demon Realm's underground gladiator fighters — and spoke, flat and even.

"Challenge for what? Do they have money to pay the admission fee?"