I Became a Witch and Started an Industrial Revolution

Who won the Derro War? Everyone would say it was the Dmitria Church—but if the war was won, what exactly was won?

The answer was unclear.

The Tsar refused to accept a declaration of defeat and was only willing to negotiate peace. He agreed to cede Loshevgo State and Golotsk State, abandon the occupied Pemeh Port, and recognize the Church’s sovereignty over the four states it had previously plundered.

At first glance, the situation seemed excellent, as a vast amount of land had indeed been gained.

However, John understood very clearly that all of this was nothing more than an illusion. After several years of war, those states had long been reduced to ruins—they had been the very foundation of the battlefield itself.

Moreover, the serf soldiers and regular troops conscripted by the Tsarist Nation during the early and middle stages of the war had all been drawn from these regions. In other words, aside from the ruins, even their population potential had been exhausted.

The resources were indeed there, but restoring production would require the Church to artificially relocate populations, rebuild infrastructure, and install various industrial facilities. Yet as the former front line of the war, which merchant would be foolish enough to invest there?

No—perhaps that wasn’t entirely correct. Opportunity and danger coexisted. Within danger lay opportunity. If merchants were difficult to deal with, then one could simply bypass them.

Farhad took the lead in convening an internal shareholders’ meeting of the Wokingmeh Consortium in the royal capital Ichamein. The attendees were all nobles of various ranks within the kingdom, along with several bishops of the Church.

Before the central figure, John, arrived, the expressions of those in the meeting room varied. The minor nobles looked worried, while even the high nobles appeared displeased.

At the root of it all was still the issue of annuity bond redemption. At present, the future of the Wokingmeh Consortium was uncertain, and its valuation on the stock exchange had been declining for some time.

The money they had invested had almost entirely been used to purchase company shares. Until the contract period ended, it could not be redeemed—and no one knew how far the price might fall.

The high nobles, however, were not worried. Ultimately, they possessed the power to flip the table. If it was confirmed that they would suffer losses, they would always find a way to reclaim what was theirs—though it might cost them some face as old noble families.

Yet when John arrived, he wore a bright smile, showing not the slightest hint of concern.

The solution he had devised was actually very simple: pull the nobles back onto the carriage once more. This time, they wouldn’t need to contribute money—only power.

The fundamental reason behind the falling stock price of the Wokingmeh Consortium was the war-weariness and pessimism among the domestic population.

Additionally, there was the excessive investment cost in colonial development by nobles and merchants closely tied to them, the long return cycle, and uncertainty over whether annuity bond returns could be realized—all of these factors compounded together.

John laid out each of these issues openly, and he even admitted that if things continued as they were, the previously promised high returns would indeed be impossible to fulfill.

However!

Just before the nobles’ anger erupted, John presented his solution: let the people raise funds to develop the new colonies.

Excessive investment and long return periods? What kind of problem was that? If no one had to spend their own money, then they could simply reap the rewards.

As long as the nobles—who controlled the direction of public opinion and political correctness—could jointly use their influence to block information,

They would only need to emphasize the Church’s great victory in the Derro War, how much land and resources had been obtained, reshape the public’s perception of the colonies, and depict them as virgin lands filled with gold. Once the potential future profits were exaggerated, there would be no shortage of citizens willing to invest.

For example—

Once the atmosphere had been sufficiently built up, the Wokingmeh Consortium would announce a stock dividend system and issue an additional 50,000 public shares.

Each share would cost 5 silver coins. One hundred shares would amount to 500 silver coins, and after one year, investors would receive 200 silver coins in dividends—a 40% annual return.

Under John’s leadership, the stock price of the Wokingmeh Consortium would be artificially driven up, attracting idle capital from the public to expand the capital pool. In that case, all the concerns of nobles and merchants would disappear.

The five-year annuity bond dividends would continue to be paid, and nobles of all ranks would also be allowed—under John’s direction—to quietly liquidate their shares and exit.

At the same time, the Wokingmeh Consortium could use the hot money raised from stock issuance to invest in the colonies, restoring local conditions and enabling merchants to enter the market to trade land and mineral resources.

Although the future of the colonies would still be overshadowed by the threat of border wars, the ones bearing the risk would shift from nobles and merchants to the kingdom’s citizens—an entirely different matter.

If something went wrong, the citizens would bear the losses, since they were the primary source of funds. If nothing went wrong, then the nobles—who held trade privileges—could simply lay eggs in nests built by the people.

This was why John needed the power of the nobles. He required their control over their respective territories to steer public opinion in favor of the Wokingmeh Consortium.

At its core, stock trading was an investment in the future. The expectations of holders largely determined whether a stock soared to the heavens or became worthless. And human sentiment was precisely the easiest thing to manipulate.

Would anyone reject John’s proposal?

No one did.

It was unanimously approved, and detailed plans were quickly drafted.

After all, doing things with other people’s money was completely different from using one’s own. Only one’s own money truly mattered—what did others’ losses have to do with them?

Many nobles even completely abandoned their previous thoughts of withdrawing. To put it bluntly, John’s method provided them with a safety net. As long as new money from the public continued to flow in, their interests—as those at the top—would be absolutely guaranteed.

The risks were distributed, while the profits still belonged to them. Of course, it was worth doing.

The closed-door meeting lasted for two full days before the profit structure and specific operational methods were finally determined.

In fact, the nobles could even treat the purchase of Wokingmeh Consortium shares as a mandatory obligation for their subjects. This would easily allow them to gather enormous wealth—essentially a stock tax.

Large-scale, transparent buying would naturally push up stock prices, and combined with a flourishing domestic propaganda environment, the momentum would undoubtedly take off.

However, after dealing with all of this, while returning home, John pressed a hidden button concealed in the top compartment of his luxurious carriage and sent out an evacuation signal.

Within the carriage roof was a signal amplifier assembled from components. It transmitted signal waves into the sky at a specific frequency. When a satellite passed overhead, it would naturally intercept the signal.

Why run?

Why not run?

Everything he had said was nothing but half-truths and twisted logic—how could he not run?

Shifting and distributing costs was correct. Gathering funds was not wrong. Investing in colonial construction to restore merchant confidence was also reasonable.

But the problem lay in the returns.

Whether it was the annuity bond returns or the annual dividends promised for the issued stocks, both were as high as 40%.

Where was he supposed to get that money?

There was only a one-year buffer period. Within that first year, the nobles would spread the information network across the entire kingdom. No one could predict how high the stock price would rise.

But this also created the greatest hidden danger.

If the first round of fundraising exceeded expectations, the second round would not be able to continue—because he wouldn’t even be able to fulfill the first round.

And for the colonies to be developed to the point of generating profits would take at least five to ten years.

As for how long it would take just to recover the initial investment—no one had even begun to calculate that yet.