Chapter 946: The Payment Problem
Roland closed the notebook and exhaled.
The Sleeping Island witches represented an enormous potential — skills and abilities the city badly needed, a workforce that could compound what Neverwinter had already built. But several hard problems stood between that potential and any practical arrangement, and the hardest of them was payment.
The Sleeping Spell witches were Tilly’s people. They answered to her, not to him. Whether any of them agreed to work was a question he could not simply resolve through authority — even Tilly’s relationship with him had thawed considerably from what it once was, and that still didn’t give him the standing to pressure her or leverage her prestige to drive the witches forward. The position assignments in the notebook were his intentions for them. How many would actually be realized depended entirely on how many witches chose, of their own judgment, to participate.
You couldn’t move people with slogans. “Labor is glorious” and “fight for our homeland” both sounded hollow to women who had never had a stable home, who had survived by bounty work and exile. He needed something that actually appealed to them — a desire worth working toward.
Tilly had described the financial arrangements on Sleeping Island in some detail: the bounties the witches collected from Fjord merchants ran between tens and hundreds of gold royals. Most of that was pooled and spent on basic supplies, but the witches understood money and had seen significant sums pass through their hands. A modest wage in gold royals wouldn’t move them. They’d seen too much and needed too little — Tilly’s Chaos Drink profits alone would keep the Sleeping Spell from poverty even if not a single witch worked another day.
A few extra coins solved nothing. That door was closed.
There was also the problem of comparison — and this one ran the other direction. Most of the Witch Union members were paid between one and three gold royals a month. If he raised wages for the Sleeping Spell witches alone, the Union members would notice. He could raise everyone’s pay simultaneously, but then he’d be explaining, to his senior witches, why two years of consistent payment had suddenly changed the moment newcomers arrived. Even if Wendy and the others took it well — and they might — it would feel off. Like a concession. Like the newcomers had accomplished something merely by arriving.
He didn’t want to start the relationship that way.
The girl on the lounge chair had been reading a picture-story book with the particular stillness she used when she was also listening. Roland looked at her.
Nightingale looked up. “What?”
“How long have you been here?”
“Two years, eleven months, and twenty-six days.” She sat up with perfect ease. “Why?”
He blinked. “You counted.”
She didn’t reply, which was its own kind of answer.
“If I remember right,” he said, “your starting payment was two gold royals a month.”
“It was.” The look she gave him was amused. “Twice Anna’s rate at the time. I refused it initially. You spent considerable effort persuading me.” A pause. “If I recall correctly, what actually happened was that I watched Anna survive her Day of Adulthood, went back to stop Cara, had an argument with her, and then simply stayed.”
“That’s a generous reconstruction.” Roland kept his face neutral. “But the actual question: during your time here, have you ever felt what you give isn’t proportional to what you receive? Has that thought ever made you consider leaving?”
The smile froze. Something moved behind her eyes — a brief, involuntary thing. “Why would I leave?”
“It was a figure of speech. The relevant half is: are there witches who feel underpaid?”
She studied him for a moment — confirming he was serious, not being thoughtless — then reappeared beside his desk without any drama of transit. “How could there be? A gold royal is half a year’s income for a common worker. We aren’t working harder than they are. And even if we had more money, most of us wouldn’t know how to spend it. We don’t worry about survival anymore. That was unimaginable once.”
“Perhaps not every witch sees it that way.”
“If you don’t believe me, ask Wendy. She knows the sisters better than anyone.”
“I was going to consult her on another matter anyway.”
“What matter?” Curiosity, open and undisguised.
“A secret. You’ll know soon enough.”
“Your Majesty, I’ve never had that thought.” Wendy’s response was sharper than he’d expected — close to indignation. “Even without payment, I would work to build this place with everything I have. Neverwinter is the new Holy Mountain for witches — I’ve said so, and I meant it. If the City Hall is short on funds, I would give you the gold royals I’ve saved myself.”
“Understood. I’m only taking a survey.” Roland touched the side of his nose, not quite sure what to do with that level of sincerity. He looked away. “Is there anything you want? Something specific?”
Wendy went still. Beside the desk, Nightingale began blinking at her with deliberate, expressive slowness.
“If you must ask,” Wendy said carefully, “I feel that perhaps… if each of us received one extra bottle of Chaos Drink per month—”
“One,” Roland confirmed. He looked at Nightingale.
She smiled — the small, exact smile she used when she’d already calculated the answer. “Since you’re asking us to express wishes freely, I think two bottles would be more accurate.”
“Of course you do.”
The rough shape of a solution had already assembled itself in his mind.
If there was something worth more than gold royals, it was things gold royals couldn’t buy. Evelyn’s Complex Wine House drew witches regularly, but the prices kept most of them outside looking in. They could afford it — the cost wasn’t the issue. The issue was that spending a month’s wage on an evening’s drink required a specific kind of ease with abundance they hadn’t had long enough to develop. They gravitated toward the cheaper fruit wine instead. And the Chaos Drinks in Evelyn’s shop were old stock anyway — inventory that hadn’t moved sat long enough to lose its freshness compared to whatever new variety was released each month.
What if the Chaos Drinks became a special currency rather than a welfare item?
Points. A dual currency. Something witches earned through work and spent on things no gold royal could purchase — exclusive goods, new products that hit the Castle District shops before anywhere else, access to whatever he came up with next.
The elegance was that it solved both problems at once. The Sleeping Spell witches were motivated by something that couldn’t be replicated by the old wage system. The Union witches experienced no salary change, no resentment, no unevenness — only the quiet opportunity to participate in the same system at the same rate. And the incentive would stay alive as long as Roland kept generating things worth wanting, which was, at this point, simply his job.
Want it? Work hard.
He pulled the notebook back toward him and made a note in the margin.
Chapter 946: The Payment Problem
Translator: TransN Editor: TransN
Roland closed the notebook and gently sighed.
The arrival of numerous Sleeping Island witches would undoubtedly instill the industry of Neverwinter with immeasurable vitality, yet… a few intractable problems lied in front of him,
with the toughest one being the issue of payment.
Those witches belonged to Sleeping Spell. Theoretically, they were under the leadership of Tilly, so whether they were willing to be employed was totally up to themselves. Although Tilly’s attitude toward him had greatly improved, it was still hard for him to back up his former promise and make use of his connection with Tilly to propel the witches forward.
That was to say the position planning in the notebook was only his own intentions for the witches. To what extent those intentions could be realized was dependent on the number of witches who were willing to join in the tides of production.
To instill them with slogans like “labor is glorious” or “labor changes fate” would bring little effect, yet to boast the idea of “fighting for our homeland” seemed less meaningful. After all, to them, the only place which could be called their home was Sleeping Island.
Roland believed that anyone would fall in love with this city and take it as his or her home after living here for a few years, but it was not the right time yet—naturally, a newcomer would be cautious and suspicious of a strange, new place. He could not wait for a few years to pass before developing the industry, so he had to offer intriguing payment.
Simply speaking, there must be a desire that propelled them to work.
Prior to this, Roland had asked Tilly about the witches’ payment. In Sleeping Island, the bounty service the witches offered to the Fjords merchants or explorers were quite costly, most of which cost between tens to hundreds of gold royals. Although Tilly used that money for basic living materials, the witches still got paid according to a primitive quota allocation system. They lived a fairly poor life, but it did not mean they had not seen much money.
Besides, nowadays 30% of the profits made from the Chaos Drink trade was at Tilly’s disposal. It was predictable that she would take a small portion of it to improve the witches’ living standard. In other words, even if a witch who chose not to work would not starve to death and could live a better life than the one on the island.
So a few extra gold royals might not be enough to get their interest.
Besides the low payment, there could be the issue of comparison. Most of the witches in the Witch Union were paid with one to three gold royals per month. Why would the outsiders get better paid? Even if Roland raise their payment as well, there could also be a criticism. Some witches might ask “our payments have been kept at the same level for almost two years, why do we get a raise as soon as the Sleeping Island witches arrived? Do senior witches like us have to depend on the newbies to get a salary raise?”
Even though the union members would not put it that way, Roland would rather not take that path.
At this thought, he could not help but look at the girl resting on the lounge chair reading a picture-story book—Nightingale.
Nightingale must have felt his gaze and turned over to ask, “What’s wrong?”
A perfect curve.
“No, now is not the time.” Roland cleared his throat and asked, “How long have you been here?”
“Two years, 11 months, and 26 days.” Nightingale sat up. “Why do you ask?”
So precise?
“If I remember correctly, your primary payment was two gold royals a month, right?”
“Ah, at the time,” Nightingale showed an ambiguous smile and said, “that would be right. It was twice as Anna’s payment. At first, I even refused it. Later under your repeated appeal, I, sort of, reluctantly agreed to be your guard.”
“What appeal? You, after seeing Anna pass through her Day of Adulthood peacefully, went back to stop Cara but ended up having a falling out with her, then decided to stay!” Roland rolled his eyes internally. “But during your stay, have you felt that what you gain is not proportional to what you give, and at any point considered to leave?”
“What did you say?” The smile on her face froze and was replaced by a hint of anxiety. “Why…why would I leave?”
“No, it was just a figure of speech,” realizing what he said could be easily misinterpreted, he hurriedly corrected himself. “The emphasis is the former half of my words. Are there witches who feel their payment is too low?”
After confirming that Roland was serious, Nightingale sighed in relief and flashed before his desk. “How is that possible? One gold royal is already half a year’s income for a common person. We’re not working harder than those workers, so our payment being ‘out of proportion’ is also out of the question. Besides, even if we get a large amount of money, we wouldn’t know how to spend it. After all, we don’t need to worry about making a living, which was out of our imagination in the old days.”
“Perhaps not every witch thinks so…”
“Why not!?! If you don’t believe me, you can ask Wendy,” Nightingale said confidently. “She knows our fellow witches better than I do.”
“Alright,” Roland shrugged and said, “I need her opinion on another matter anyway.”
“What matter?” Nightingale asked curiously.
“It’s a secret, but soon you’ll know,” Roland answered with a smile.
…
“Your Majesty, I’ve never thought that!” Unexpectedly, Wendy’s response was even more intense. “Even without payment, I’d have done my best to build this place. I used to say that Neverwinter is the new Holy Mountain to the witches, and the other sisters are also serving you with the same expectation! If the City Hall is in a shortage of money, I’d like to give you the gold royals I’ve saved.”
“Um… alright, I’m only collecting opinions.” Suddenly, Roland felt very touched by her remarks. Touching his nose, he turned away his head and asked, “Is there anything you want in particular?”
“This…” Wendy was startled, and Nightingale began to quickly blink to her. “If you must ask, I feel… that… perhaps… if each one of us could get one more bottle of Chaos Drinks every month… that’ll be great.”
“Do you agree?” Roland looked at Nightingale.
“Is this some sort of wishing game?” Nightingale gently smiled. “Since we’re asked to freely express our wishes, I think two more bottles would be better.”
“No doubt.” He then had a rough framework of the reform of the witches’ payment.
If there were things more valuable than money, it would be the things that money could not buy. Evelyn’s Complex Wine House was often visited by some witches, but its high pricing kept most of the witches out. They turned to the cheaper fruit wine—not because they could not afford visiting Evelyn’s
wine house, but their consumption stopped them from spending a large amount of gold royals on such luxuries.
Besides, the Chaos Drinks sold in the wine house were all old varieties. Their low sales made it very hard to replace the inventory, and their freshness could not be compared with the new products released each month.
What if I just change the Chaos Drinks from a welfare item to a special item to be purchased?
One can call it a points system or a dual currency system. But to entice the witches to work by rewarding them with something gold royals can’t buy, won’t it make the work itself more attractive? At the same time, it could perfectly avoid the witches’ sense of unevenness brought by raising the payment.
Besides the Chaos Drinks, Roland had many more ideas for special items that could be purchased, which could maintain their own attractiveness and at the same time not to be imitated by any other companies.
Want it? Work hard!