NABC Chapter 60: The Gestapo is Deployed
Chapter 60: The Gestapo is Deployed
How can we keep control over tax revenue?
Are we going to grant fiefdoms to the players now, and then send these ruthless killers to their respective territories to argue with the local "powerful" peasants?
It's not that it's impossible, but if we grant players land so early, how will we reward them for their achievements later? Viserys is counting on using these lands to keep the players busy helping him conquer the land.
Viserys picked up the information he had been investigating these past few days and looked at it again.
The contractor prepays a fixed amount of tax; any excess is kept by the contractor.
"Sigh," Viserys exhaled a breath of stale air, pondering how dynasties, both Chinese and foreign, had dealt with such situations throughout Earth's history:
"By the way, the Yuan Dynasty also implemented a tax farmer system. How was this resolved in the early Ming Dynasty?"
Viserys closed his eyes and pondered that the Ming Dynasty's solution was nothing more than to completely abolish tax farming, return to official collection and management, establish the Ministry of Revenue, and reclaim the power of taxation from the central and local governments.
We've come full circle again. Abolishing tax farming is easy, but he doesn't have a large pool of grassroots talent to support a "Ministry of Revenue."
Sigh, I'm reluctant to let them split the game, I'm reluctant to let them split the game, but in the end I still have to rely on the players.
Ultimately, the fact that the local finances of the countryside belong to the central government doesn't fit the national conditions of us Targaryens.
Viserys never intended to implement a county system or centralized monarchy in this world. He still needed to use a feudal system to lure players into conquering the land for him. After all, if you don't let players act like masters, you can't expect to treat them like servants.
Having figured things out, Viserys no longer hesitated. At this moment, he no longer thought about taking back the tax farmer system, but instead had the idea of replacing the players and sending them out to fight against these local "powerful figures".
If players perform well, they will be granted land, and from now on, they will hand over a portion to the central government, while the rest will be left to them to manage themselves.
Of course, players might have the idea of keeping the money for themselves, but which lord doesn't do that these days? Anyway, even the most corrupt lord is better than those audacious tax farmers who dare to split taxes 30/70 with him.
Damn it, do you really think I'm some beggar king kneeling down to beg for food?
Whether it's the locals or the players, it's still tax-inclusive. So why not just use the players? At least they're the ones you've trained yourself.
"Someone come here," Viserys called out.
The door was pushed open, and a player in a white robe stepped in:
"His Majesty."
"Go check if the intelligence assistant is resting," Viserys ordered.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The man in the white robe withdrew.
Before long, [calling a mouse a duck] followed them in.
"Your Majesty, may the gods bless you."
[Calling a mouse a duck] He spoke with much more sincerity than before, and this was only after serving as an intelligence assistant for a few days. Judging from his appearance, Viserys sometimes felt that if he were given the position of Minister of Intelligence, the other party would be more loyal.
"I intend to entrust you with an important task. If you accomplish it well, I plan to bestow upon you a noble title and grant you land. At that time, your meritorious subordinates will also receive the same treatment."
Viserys ultimately offered the players that tempting fruit.
What? I'm going to be a landlord?
[Calling a mouse a duck] Right now I really want to find someone to translate this for me, is this what they call a surprise?
Don't let his status as a rich second-generation fool you; if you really wanted him to be a landlord, he wouldn't care about that damn rich second-generation identity at all.
Sure enough, I am Viagra's trusted confidant and favorite; he always thinks of me when there are good things to do!
"Recently, gather all those bodyguards under your command and send them out to investigate the corruption of those tax farmers. Don't look too hard; you're good at this. If you can't find it, just make it up yourself."
Viserys tapped the table, and [Pointing at a Mouse and Calling it a Duck] nodded repeatedly like a lackey.
His mind was already wandering into the carefree fantasies of the local landlord.
"Your Majesty, rest assured, my men are all experts at this!" Before the matter was even settled, [Pointing at a Mouse and Calling it a Duck] was already patting his chest and making guarantees.
"Hmph, of course he's a pro," Viserys thought to himself with a smirk as he listened to his own intelligence chief's assurance.
He knew all too well that among the nearly four thousand players, it was his group of "Gestapo" who were the most unrestrained. They were like they had been freed from their restraints, spending their days picking skins, hanging out with girls, chasing after lunatics and sleeping with idiots. There was nothing they wouldn't do.
There's not a single low-class, underhanded trick they don't know.
"Alright, I trust you to handle things. If you do a good job, you'll get your share of the benefits, whether openly or secretly." Viserys sat up straight and handed back the list that the other party had given him not long ago.
[Calling a mouse a duck] He took the list and put it away, then slowly left the room.
The next day, before dawn.
The secret police then gathered together.
All levels of leaders, from action team leaders to section chiefs, were busy.
He was holding a stack of names and distributing them to his team members one by one.
[Calling a mouse a duck] Standing on a box, he repeatedly instructed his men:
"Remember this, brothers: when it comes to your own wealth and honor, don't give those cunning tax farmers a chance to argue. If there's no evidence, create your own. If anyone dares to resist, kill them on the spot!"
This is the decree of the Targaryens! This is an order from His Majesty!
Players who received the list left the base in groups of three to five.
The players on patrol in the streets watched in astonishment as the Gestapo officers hurriedly headed out of the city, completely bewildered.
Meanwhile, in a manor on flat land.
It was a gathering of more than twenty tax-monitoring bigwigs.
Not long ago, seeing that the storm had passed and Viserys had established himself in Pentos, they jointly submitted a proposal for adjustments to the tax amount for the new year.
In their view, they were very different from those merchants who were powerless to resist the butcher's knife.
The saying goes, "Kings come and go, but tax farmers remain."
It didn't matter to them who notified Pentos.
They're all just beggars kneeling at their feet begging for food anyway.
That Targaryen doesn't have many dragons.
"People across the strait often say that half of the Targaryen family are madmen. To be honest, I really don't like dealing with a madman."
The portly tax farmer raised his glass to the group of bigwigs, then downed the wine from Qingting Island in one gulp.
"Lord Yuris, you are overthinking it. Madman or fool, no one can rule Pentos without us, not even the gods."
The tax farmer, sporting a goatee, ate his pigeon pie slowly and casually, speaking in a lazy tone.
"If all of you gentlemen joined forces, it would not be an exaggeration to say that you could sever Pentos's lifeline."
Sitting at the end, the tax farmer who didn't seem to be of high status stood up, raised his wine glass, and said with a fawning smile.
"Ah, hahaha, Lord Valon, you're really joking." The middle-aged man with slicked-back hair, sitting in the main seat, covered his mouth and let out a burst of old-fashioned laughter.
He chatted and laughed, treating Viserys as if he didn't exist.