Richard was, in truth, in a state of shock. He reached out and picked up the silver bracelet. Thoughts raced through the boy's mind:
Could this tiny thing really do the same as a massive installation that requires a high-output thermonuclear reactor to power it? Does that mean it can actually move a person from one point on the planet to another? And to another galaxy, too? My God! If that's really the case, a few flicks of a wizard's wand could earn billions—no, trillions! Portals could fundamentally transform logistics and humanity's capabilities. So why are wizards still living in reservations instead of occupying key positions in corporations with salaries rivaling top executives?!
The voice of the elder Grosvenor pulled the boy out of his thoughts.
"So, Richie, now you'll have a small source of magical currency," he said. "At the same time, I've solved the issue of your status among wizards and greased the wheels with the Minister for Magic."
"A solid move, Father," Richard admitted honestly. "I still have a lot to learn from you. Killing three birds with one stone by trading cheap and useless land in the Scottish backwoods—that's worthy of admiration."
"Cheap?!" Gerald scoffed. "They've been unprofitable for the past five years. Now they'll bring in at least some income."
"That makes it even more impressive!" Richard looked at his father with admiration. "By the way, Uncle Charlie, do you think it's possible to draw wizards into business?"
"What do you mean, Richard?" the prince asked.
"Mmm…" the boy hummed thoughtfully. "For example, involving wizards in the development of new technologies."
"Only in secret," Charles replied. "Wizards are bound by an international Statute of Secrecy. That means they're obligated to hide from ordinary people all over the world. British wizards, if memory serves, even have laws that forbid enchanting technology and everyday objects."
"That's bad," Richie said, rubbing his chin with the back of his right hand. "What do you think—if the Minister were bribed with something appealing, would there be a chance to change the laws? Say, create a loophole that would allow wizards to secretly enchant items for ordinary people who are aware of magic?"
Prince Charles thought for a moment before answering:
"I suppose it's possible, Richie. It's all about the price! Everything depends on whether you can interest the right people. But why do you need this, godson?"
"Money!" Richie exclaimed. "Uncle Charlie, there's enormous money to be made here. Not to mention how much could be saved. I can't even imagine not taking advantage of a resource like wizards."
"I'm afraid it won't work," the prince said, shaking his head. "Richie, many people would like to use wizards for their own purposes—but the wizards themselves don't want that."
"They're just not being motivated enough," Richard declared with firm conviction.
"Richie, forget it," the prince said, clearly ending the discussion.
"All right," the boy replied, deciding to change the subject. "Dad, why exactly this solution with the land?"
"Good question, son. From the bits and pieces of information I've gathered, here's what I understand. First, there aren't many wizards. Second, they have their own currency. It's like a casino with chips. The casino's goal is to get a person to come in with real money, buy chips, and leave all of them there. If he takes the chips with him, they become useless."
"Interesting," Prince Charles said. "So, G, you picture wizarding society as a huge casino?"
"Something like that," Gerald agreed. "You heard the Minister yourself—they need farmers. That means wizards consume goods they produce themselves. Considering she asked for only a small territory for farms, it's reasonable to conclude that both their consumption and their population are limited."
"G, what if we assume that with magic they harvest four record-breaking crops a year?" Charles asked.
"Even that wouldn't be much," Gerald waved it off. "The point is different—the wizards' chips, that is, their internal currency, circulate only within wizarding society. That means the total supply of magical currency is relatively small. Most likely, there's a way to exchange pounds for their chips so that wizards living among ordinary people can obtain their funny money and participate in the magical market. But in that case, there must be limits on the exchange."
"Why limits?" the prince asked curiously. "From what I understand, wizards still need pounds."
"A protective mechanism, inevitable in a society with this kind of stratification," Gerald explained. "Imagine that you and I are pure-blood wizards. Our ancestors accumulated a certain fortune in chips, which we're proud of. And then along comes some upstart Muggle-born who pulls out a wad of pounds 'for pocket money'—and once exchanged into chips, it turns out to be larger than our combined capital."
Charles smirked and said knowingly:
"Ha! Yeah… Richie, with the Grosvenor fortune, could buy out the entire little world of British wizards and crash the chip market overnight."
"That's exactly the point," Gerald said to his friend. "Which is why it's best for Richie to start accumulating chips right now. A hundred tenant farmers is a very solid foundation by any standard. My son will be able to live among wizards without financial constraints. And given how small that society is, where rumors must spread quickly, Richie will gain a certain level of notoriety. As I understand it, the school has several houses, one of which is called Hufflepuff. Since our tenants will be graduates of that house, you, Richie, should try to be sorted there. You'll have authority there—or at least the beginnings of it—which will make it easier to adapt to wizarding society."
"Dad, I understand you perfectly and completely agree," Richard said.
(End of Chapter)
P@treon: /SadRaven
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