Lahat ng Kabanata ng Traveller Of Two Worlds: Kabanata 2821 - Kabanata 2830

For the citizens, the transformation was breathtaking. Where once they begged at the mercy of greedy guilds, they now walked with dignity into warehouses where soldiers and clerks treated them with respect. They could afford more food, better clothes, even medicine. The air in the streets shifted from fear to cautious joy.A mother whispered to her child as they left the warehouse, clutching fresh bread and clean vegetables.“Do you see, Lira? This is what it means to be free. To be Aeternum.”The child smiled, her arms full of food she had never tasted before. And yet, in the corners of the city, in shuttered halls and silent guildhouses, the merchants whispered in fear.They knew what was coming. The soldiers had already hinted, the clerks had already warned: soon the Ministry would arrive. Inspectors from the Department of Trade and Mercantile — men and women famed for their ruthless precision.DOTAM did not bribe. DOTAM did not negotiate. DOTAM did not forgive. One inspector’s pen

“The Golden Hooves’ gamble is not a gamble. It is an investment. Their foresight will be their salvation. And for Aeternum,” she said, picking up a stamp and bringing it down decisively on the Golden Hooves application with a solid thump, “they will become the first seeds of a new, orderly, and utterly controlled economic power. The first to be woven into our web.”In the square, Borin laughed at Torvald’s foolishness. In the Ministry, Madam Lin approved his membership, making him richer and more powerful than Borin could ever dream of being again. The divide was no longer coming. It was already here, written in ledgers and decrees, waiting for the right moment to be revealed. And on one side of that divide lay a future. On the other, only dust.****************For a week, Star City buzzed with rumors like a hive disturbed. The taverns were restless, the marketplaces edgy. Everyone spoke in hushed voices about a word that had drifted into their ears, a word that carried with it fear

Star City had lived through many upheavals in its long history: kings rising and falling, noble houses feuding, mercenary armies pillaging. But never had it seen something like this.Within three days of DOTAM’s arrival, the very bones of the city shifted. The old markets — chaotic, foul-smelling lanes crammed with stalls and shouting men — were suddenly quiet. Their patrons had vanished. Their merchants stood idle, calling out desperately to empty air.Because now, towering on the main avenues, stood the Aeternum Super Stores. They were unlike anything the Lone Star people had ever seen: vast halls of smooth stone and clean glass, with doors that opened silently on polished hinges. Inside, rows of neatly arranged shelves gleamed with goods — rice in sealed packages, vegetables sorted by ripeness, meat cut and chilled.No bargaining. No cheating. No rot hidden beneath. Just fair prices, written plainly on boards for all to see. And the staff — young men and women in crisp uniforms, po

The air in the royal office, high within the crystalline spire of Star Palace, was no longer thick with the suffocating humidity of fear, but rather crisp with the chill of calculated anticipation. Since the great purges—that necessary, bloody weeding of the Lone Star Kingdom’s corrupt bureaucracy—the sprawling halls had grown quieter. The marble floors echoed less with hurried footsteps and more with the steady rhythm of a government finding its equilibrium.My desk, an expanse of polished obsidian salvaged from the old king’s private collection, still received reports of lingering corruption, petty embezzlement, and localized resistance. Yet, they were dwindling. Each week, the stack was noticeably thinner than the last. The initial, overwhelming flood of complaints, the evidence of systemic rot, had reduced to a manageable trickle. Justice was efficient; loyalty was being rewarded; and fear, once the tool of the old regime, was now the cautious chaperone of public officials.The tr

The opulent council chamber of Star Palace was choked with the silent anticipation of men and women who lived and died by logistics. Heavy velvet drapes shielded them from the dust of Star City, but the atmosphere inside was hotter and more intense than the midday sun. Maps, scrolled and bound with precious leather, lay scattered across the polished obsidian table, tracing the erratic, vulnerable arteries of the Lone Star Kingdom.President Mies, positioned at the head of the table—a place earned by conquest and maintained by foresight—did not look at the maps. He looked only at the faces of his assembled ministers, engineers, and supply directors. Their anxiety was palpable; they were waiting for the impossible.The decree left his lips, sharp and decisive, without the slightest tremor of doubt.“Extend the iron road,” he commanded, the words echoing subtly off the high ceilings. “From Alemia, where our logistics hub is already operational, to Star City. And then, without pause, from