Regression of the Tower's Final Survivor-Chapter 56: Economic Warfare

The Trade District of Floor 11 was usually a place of orderly chaos, merchants shouting prices while blacksmiths hammered out dents in armor while alchemists hawked potions that smelled faintly of sulfur and mint. It was the economic heart of the Crystal Plateau, controlled firmly by the Iron Domain’s monopoly on high-grade smithing.

Today, however, the chaos was anything but orderly.

Dante walked down the main thoroughfare with his team trailing behind him like heavily armed pack mules. Astrid was carrying three massive sacks over her shoulder, each one clanking with the distinct sound of steel on steel, and Ren dragged a sled piled high with plate mail, helmets, and spears. Even Ravenna was getting in on the action, levitating two bundles of swords behind her with a lazy flick of her wrist.

They looked like they had just raided an armory. Because they had.

"Dante," Ren hissed, eyeing the staring crowds that parted before them. "Everyone is looking at us. That’s Iron Domain insignia on the breastplates. We’re fencing stolen goods in the middle of their home turf."

"It’s not stolen," Dante said loudly enough for the nearby stall owners to hear. "It’s spoils of war. Universal Tower Law, Ren. If you attack someone and lose, you forfeit your gear. They donated it."

"Donated," Ren muttered. "Right."

Dante stopped in front of The Gilded Anvil, the largest independent smithy on the street. It was run by a dwarf named Kaelen, one of the few craftsmen on this floor who refused to sign an exclusivity contract with the Iron Domain, and as a result, his shop was usually empty because the Domain’s price-fixing strangled any competition.

Dante kicked the door open.

"We’re closed!" Kaelen shouted from the back without looking up from the glowing ingot he was hammering. "Can’t afford the coal to keep the forge running today."

"I’m not here to buy," Dante said, and he gestured to Astrid.

Astrid dumped the sacks onto the floor with a clang that made the walls shake, and helmets rolled across the stone while swords spilled out like silver pickup sticks. Ren overturned the sled, adding a mountain of breastplates to the pile.

Kaelen froze with his hammer mid-swing. He lowered it slowly, his eyes widening as he recognized the gray steel and the fortress sigil stamped on every piece.

"That’s... that’s Domain Standard Issue," Kaelen breathed. "That’s Grade 3 enchanted plate. Where did you get this?"

"Garrett Vance and his men decided they didn’t need it anymore," Dante said, leaning on the counter. "I have fifteen full sets. Swords, shields, greaves. Lightly used. Some dented."

Kaelen wiped his soot-stained hands on his apron and looked at Dante with a mix of awe and terror. "You stripped a punishment squad? Vane will have your head."

"Vane can try," Dante said. "But right now, I have a surplus of inventory and no warehouse space. I want to sell it."

"I can’t pay you what this is worth," Kaelen said, shaking his head. "One of these sets is 5,000 credits. Fifteen... I don’t have that kind of liquidity."

"I don’t want 5,000." Dante smiled, and it was the smile of a man pouring gasoline on a fire. "I want you to sell them for 1,000."

Kaelen choked. "What? That’s... that’s below the cost of raw materials. The Domain sells them for 6,000 minimum."

"Exactly." Dante leaned forward. "Put them in your window. ’Iron Domain Quality, Clearance Prices.’ Flood the market. Every climber on this floor needs gear, and if they can buy it from you for a fraction of the price, who are they going to buy from?"

"The Domain’s shop across the street will sit empty for weeks," Kaelen realized, and a gleam appeared in his eye. "Their smiths will be sitting on inventory they can’t move."

"And while they’re panicking about their margins," Dante said, sliding a single Primal Gold coin across the counter, "you get to be the most popular merchant on Floor 11."

Kaelen looked at the coin, then at the pile of gear. He grinned, revealing a mouth full of gold teeth.

"You’re evil, boy. I like it."

---

An hour later, the street was in a frenzy.

Word had spread faster than a plague. Legit Domain Armor for 1k. The line outside Kaelen’s shop stretched for three blocks, and climbers were fighting for spots while waving credit chips in the air.

Across the street, the official Iron Domain outlet was deserted. The clerks stood in the doorway, watching the spectacle with pale faces because they knew exactly what this meant. Their quarterly profits just evaporated.

Dante watched from the balcony of a tavern overlooking the square, swirling a glass of ale and enjoying the economic carnage with satisfaction.

"You crashed the market," Adrian Cross said, sliding into the chair opposite him.

Dante didn’t flinch because he had known Adrian was there. The man moved deeply in the shadows, but Dante knew his scent, old blood and expensive cologne.

"Supply and demand, Adrian," Dante said, taking a sip. "Supply went up, so prices went down."

"You humiliated Vane’s squad, stripped them naked, and now you’re using their own gear to bankrupt his smiths." Adrian shook his head, looking almost impressed. "That’s not just a message, Dante. That’s a dissection."

"It’s a deterrent," Dante corrected. "If they come at me with swords, I break their swords. If they come at me with money, I break their bank. I want them to realize that fighting me is too expensive."

"Vane isn’t a rational man," Adrian warned, signaling the barmaid for a wine. "He’s watching this right now. He won’t back down. He’ll escalate."

"Let him." Dante leaned forward. "What about you, Adrian? Are you escalating?"

Adrian paused and looked at Dante, his blue eyes sharp and calculating. He was searching for any sign that Dante knew who he really was, that he was a sleeper agent for the Archon, that he was the one who would eventually kill them all.

Dante let him look. He kept his face a mask of bored arrogance.

"Me?" Adrian laughed softly. "I’m just an observer. I like winning teams, Dante. And right now... you look like a winner."

"Then stay out of my way," Dante said. "I’m just getting started." 𝓯𝙧𝓮𝓮𝒘𝓮𝙗𝙣𝒐𝒗𝒆𝓵.𝓬𝓸𝒎

"I wouldn’t dream of interfering," Adrian said, raising his glass in a toast. "To the Lightbreakers. May your ascent be interesting."

"To the climb," Dante replied, clinking his glass against the traitor’s.

He drank, but his eyes never left Adrian’s throat.

’Not yet,’ the Ancient Core whispered in his mind. ’He’s still useful.’

’I know,’ Dante thought back. ’But I’m counting the days.’

Down below, the first fight broke out over a discounted breastplate. The chaos was beautiful, and moving fast.