Chapter 1586 - Ant-venturing

Well, I have to say, after an hour or two spent on the trading floor, I was exhausted, reader. Me! Need I remind you, I was described as the indefatigable Tolly in my day!

And as long as I can jolly well put one foot in front of the other, it remains my day!

It’s all very thrilling, reader, and I must say, the temptation to grab my ‘kerchief, wave it vigorously in the air and yell ‘SELL!’ was hard to resist.

After watching all those people go mad trying to make a deal, I am ashamed to say I needed a sit down and a cup of tea in a cool shaded area.

Naturally, the Colony provided many such locations and Emelia was able to guide me to one without too much difficulty. The girl is a lifesaver! No matter where we need to go, she always gets us there and there is always room for us. Remarkable.

“Is all of this really necessary?” I can’t help but ask, waving a hand toward the crowded floor, not far away from us. “Surely there is a better way.”

At least we can now converse in a normal tone of voice. 

“As I understand it, this system largely developed after the implementation of the automatically updating price-boards,” she explains. “With real-time price changes, it became possible to grab items the moment they began to dip in value. Since the Colony allows a merchant to sell contracts, they can make an order to purchase a hundred tons of Colony grown wheat a year in advance, and if the price of wheat happens to go up, they can sell that contract to someone else for a profit without having to transport the goods or handle the sales. Many of the merchants in there don’t handle goods at all, but contracts.”

I can’t help but stare.

“What does the Colony get out of people exchanging contracts?”

She smirks. The little minx actually smirks!

“Brokerage fees,” she replies with overwhelming smug energy.

“And you’re telling me the Colony doesn’t understand money?”

“They understand economics very well,” she assures me, “but they don’t understand money. The Colony is an entirely cashless society.”

“Then what happens to the tremendous profits generated here?” I say exasperated.

“The Colony pours it into various projects. Most of it goes into rearing future generations. A good chunk is used to import things the Colony can’t source within our own lands. Constructing nests, city development, paying for monster removal, lots of things.”

“The Colony needs others to fight monsters for them?” I ask skeptically. 

Many people question many things about the Colony, but their success as a fighting force is not one of them. Having weathered numerous waves since their arrival in the Dungeon as a new species, across multiple strata, they are clearly capable.

“Why don’t we go there next?” Emilia offers, and of course, I accept. 

Off we go, wandering to the outside of the mountain to take in the wonderful sights and sounds that the Colony has created there. I have to say, it is more remarkable than I imagined. I could spend many a page gushing about the gardens, the dappled woods, the chuckling streams and vibrant life the ants had cultivated on the side of their mountain. 

I don’t know why, but I expected it to be more austere, more utilitarian, but I couldn’t have been further from the truth. Art abounds wherever the Colony goes, reader, and it is wondrous to see.

Close to the shoreline, but a small distance from the flourishing port, Emelia guides me to a large building with a domed roof. On either side, mighty soldier ants have been depicted in glittering stone. They give off an indomitable and powerful feeling. Dear reader, believe me when I say that when viewed correctly, they truly have a noble and dignified visage. 

Although, when I look close I see both soldiers are carrying smaller ants, healers, Emelia tells me. Those two look less dignified and more… surly. If not downright irritated.

Inside the building, the craftsmanship of the ants is once again on display. Glittering light filters through the windows to play across the intricate carvings, the magnificent tiled floor and the gleaming columns holding up the roof. All around the room, ants sit on their unique chairs while non-ants mill in groups or peruse the many boards with organised rows of paper posted on them.

“This is where the Colony commissions outsiders to undertake monster suppression missions,” Emelia says with a broad gesture. “As you can see, it isn’t exactly rare.”

I can see that it isn’t! There are so many enterprising and strong looking young men and women that I’m honestly quite shocked I haven’t heard about this practice before! As I look around admiringly, I spy something that takes my eye. Surprised, I look a little closer to confirm I did see what I thought I saw.

I tap Emelia on the shoulder and point.

“My dear, why is there a truly hideous looking centipede sculpture there?”

I certainly haven’t seen any other artwork within the Colony that depicts a non-ant insect of any kind. I can immediately see that this piece isn’t intended to be… complimentary. I know the creature is supposed to be a centipede by its form, but it has been depicted as a twisted, diabolical and ghastly form. Ugly in the extreme, weak and decrepit, it is shown as pathetic and evil.

What I’m saying, reader, is that the ant who carved this REALLY doesn’t like centipedes.

“Oh that,” Emelia says brightly. “The Colony has an active bounty on centipede monsters. If you bring the core here the Colony will double its value. The statue marks the dropoff location. See the desk over there?”

“Double it? That’s generous! What sort of centipedes is the Colony wanting hunted?”

“All of them,” Emilia smiled.

“I… see. And how many of these bounties do they pay out each year?”

“All of them,” Emilia repeats, her eyes tightening, but her smile not budging an inch. “There is no limit to the type or number of centipede bounties the Colony will pay. In any stratum of the Dungeon. Ever.”