Chapter 886

The company’s current situation made establishing overseas branches something that had to be approached carefully.

Europe was relatively straightforward. There was really only one viable choice: Russia.

It was enormous—the largest country in the world by land area—with vast natural resources and considerable political influence. It also still harbored ambitions of competing with the United States on the world stage.

The problem was that much of Russia’s industrial strength was inherited from the old Soviet system. Economically and technologically, it still lagged behind the United States in several important areas.

That made a company with truly advanced technology extremely attractive.

And the person Evinson had chosen to oversee the operation was Natalia Voskaya. Her father was a prominent Eastern European arms magnate with extensive local connections, which would make things considerably easier.

But Russia was still a country with a struggling economy.

The Eredar Twins weren’t establishing a branch there because they expected enormous profits. The primary purpose was political leverage—to give the American government something to think about.

Profit came second.

Asia was where the real money was supposed to come from.

The Eredar Twins had chosen India.

Evenson thought it was an excellent decision.

Because neither the Eredar Twins nor Evenson were particularly selfless people.

They weren’t opening branches overseas because they wanted to help other countries develop. They wanted profit. Preferably, as much of it as possible.

And maximizing profit meant extracting as many resources as possible, restructuring the local economy around the company, and flooding the market with its products.

That would be fantastic for the company.

For the country being exploited, not so much.

For its domestic businesses, it could be catastrophic.

Which was precisely why Japan and South Korea were immediately eliminated from consideration.

Their territories were too small and their natural resources too limited. There simply wasn’t enough room for the company’s grand ambitions.

In other words, they weren’t worth exploiting.

Though perhaps, someday, the company could establish smaller subsidiaries there. Their economies were substantial enough that a little controlled exploitation might still be profitable.

That left two possibilities in Asia.

Thinking about it for another few seconds reduced the list to one.

India.

The other country was simply too clever.

Its people and government were unlikely to fall for a predatory corporate strategy on the scale the company had in mind. The moment the Umbrella-style business model started taking shape, someone would recognize what was happening.

And that country also contained people with terrifying ocular abilities comparable to the legendary Mangekyō Sharingan.

If the company established a branch there, it might take only a few years before they independently developed products better than its own.

More importantly, that land was supposedly protected by divine powers.

Messing around there carried the frightening possibility of causing the world’s timeline to suddenly collapse and bringing the entire setting to an abrupt end.

India, on the other hand, had none of those problems.

It was practically unique.

The country possessed respectable technological capabilities, particularly in information technology and certain areas of biology that Evenson would rather not dwell on.

Its military, however, was a different story.

Its armed forces were essentially a collection of foreign purchases. Weapons, aircraft, equipment—buy, buy, buy.

Its domestic military-industrial development was comparatively weak.

Even better, its social structure was extraordinarily complicated.

The country’s caste system had produced layers upon layers of social divisions. The government could insist all it wanted that the caste system had been abolished, but anyone with functioning eyes could see that reality was considerably messier.

It was difficult to believe that in the modern era, a country that proudly called itself a modern nation could still be dealing with a social hierarchy rooted thousands of years in the past.

And the famous four broad castes were only the beginning.

There were countless smaller caste groups, particularly among the lower social strata. There could be thousands of them, with many associated with particular occupations.

And somehow, even among people considered outcasts, those divisions could produce their own elaborate hierarchy of status.

A hierarchy of people looking down on other people who were already being looked down upon.

The absurdity was almost impressive.

The upper castes might no longer concern themselves with every detail, but the boundaries between smaller groups could still be remarkably rigid.

A community associated with driving rickshaws might traditionally remain within that profession. A community associated with making street food might be expected to remain in that occupation as well.

Try stepping outside those boundaries, and suddenly society had a problem with you.

It was one of the reasons people joked that India’s long history was less a record of conquest than a record of getting conquered.

The country had existed for thousands of years, yet its political fragmentation had repeatedly made it vulnerable to outside powers.

And that fragmentation had another consequence.

India had an enormous wealth gap.

Millions of people had limited access to education and opportunity.

For a normal government, that was a serious disadvantage.

For Umbrella, it was an opportunity.

A huge population meant an enormous labor pool.

And an enormous labor pool meant cheap labor.

Sixteen hours? Eighteen?

Evenson mentally shook his head.

If twelve-hour shifts are legal, we’ll call it progress. If not... well, eighteen is still technically a number.

The idea was terrible.

Which, naturally, meant it was also profitable.

There was another factor.

India’s population had, historically, developed a slower pace of life than many industrialized nations. Its climate and fertile agricultural regions had made survival easier in many areas, particularly compared with regions where winter itself could kill you.

In a world without a powerful druid suddenly appearing to revolutionize agriculture, growing seasons could be remarkably generous.

Three harvests a year in some regions?

That kind of environment could make people less desperate for relentless industrialization.

Why work yourself to death if you weren’t starving?

The result was a society whose pace could seem comparatively relaxed and whose people were, on average, less obsessed with work than the citizens of some industrialized countries.

To Evenson, that made India look suspiciously convenient.

History had already demonstrated how effectively the British Empire had exploited the country’s social and political divisions.

Of course, this was the modern world.

Colonialism was supposed to be dead.

Turning people into literal slaves would be somewhat difficult to justify.

Umbrella, naturally, was a company that respected human rights.

Very much so.

That was why the company would enthusiastically promote human rights in India.

It would advocate abolishing the death penalty.

And eventually, through sufficient effort, it might even succeed.

There was only one unfortunate side effect.

India already had serious problems with crime, including particularly vicious offenses.

Remove the death penalty—the most severe deterrent available—and crime could potentially rise even further.

Meanwhile, the government didn’t seem particularly eager to spend enormous sums expanding its prison system.

More crime meant more prisoners.

More prisoners meant more expense.

And eventually, the government would have a headache.

That was where Umbrella could generously step in.

Why not privatize the prisons?

The company would finance their construction and take responsibility for their management.

The facilities would be cleaner.

The food would be better.

The living conditions would be superior to those of ordinary state prisons.

Naturally, the prisoners would be so overwhelmed by Umbrella’s generosity that they would gratefully accept the company’s rehabilitation program.

An eighteen-hour workday would be entirely voluntary.

Of course.

It was practically charity.

There were advantages for everyone.

First, prisoners would receive an education and rehabilitation. They would learn from their mistakes, repent for their crimes, and emerge as productive members of society.

Assuming they emerged.

Second, prisons would cease being a financial burden on the government.

They would become profitable enterprises that generated tax revenue.

So Umbrella would solve India’s prison overcrowding problem, rehabilitation problem, employment problem, and public-order problem.

And all it would ask in return was a modest amount of money.

Then it would generously pay taxes on those profits.

Clearly, India was getting the better end of the deal.

Evenson almost felt sorry for them.

Almost.

And naturally, once the system was in place, the next logical step would be reforming India’s notoriously inefficient police and judicial systems.

More efficient policing meant more arrests.

More efficient courts meant more convictions.

More convictions meant more prisoners.

More prisoners meant more demand for prisons.

And because India obviously lacked experience with such a sophisticated system, Umbrella would have no choice but to provide consultants and instructors.

If the government found even that too difficult, Umbrella could reluctantly take over those functions as well.

Purely to help.

Eventually, India would become a nation of order, prosperity, and dramatically reduced poverty.

Umbrella would deserve enormous credit for making it happen.

And after all that hard work, perhaps India could show its gratitude by handing over national sovereignty.

Evenson nearly laughed.

Imagine that.

They would solve the country’s problems, fix its economy, reform its prisons, improve its police, rebuild its judicial system—and then, somehow, end up running the entire country.

What a burden.

He almost felt like crying.

Mostly because he was laughing.

Of course, all of that was a long-term plan.

For now, they had to proceed one step at a time.

Fortunately, India’s religious culture offered them another advantage.

India was a deeply religious country, and the more powerful members of the traditional social hierarchy tended to be particularly devout.

That made sense.

The caste system’s legitimacy had historically been intertwined with religion.

The government might possess formal political authority, but religious leaders among the higher castes still wielded substantial influence.

Money alone wouldn’t necessarily be enough to win those people over.

They needed to win over their beliefs.

And that was where Agatha came in.

She was a pale-skinned demoness with six arms, each one holding a curved blade.

India had plenty of gods.

With enough research, finding a deity whose iconography could accommodate Agatha shouldn’t be difficult.

If she couldn’t convincingly impersonate Kali in one of Parvati’s forms, she could always present herself as some divine messenger delivering the will of the gods.

That should work.

And then there were the Felguards.

The demons had long tails that swayed behind them, bodies covered in scales, and powerful beastlike legs with reversed joints.

Call them dragon-descended divine beings and most people probably wouldn’t know the difference.

What? The appearance doesn’t match?

Evenson almost snorted.

Right. Because you’ve personally met a dragon.

Honestly, Umbrella was doing them a favor.

It was going to solve their national problems, deliver economic prosperity, and provide them with actual divine beings to worship.

Where else were they going to find a company that generous?

Agatha’s appearance alone should be enough to convince a substantial number of highly devout religious leaders.

And as a former servant of the Eredar Twins, the demoness was perfectly suited to the assignment.

Those religious leaders probably wouldn’t object too strongly to Agatha’s proposal, either.

After all, preserving the social hierarchy meant preserving their own privileged positions.

Protect the upper classes.

Keep the lower classes obedient.

Everyone benefited.

Then there was the matter of money, luxury, and indulgence.

Once Umbrella showered those leaders with wealth and beautiful distractions, turning them into pampered fools obsessed with pleasure would hardly be difficult for a demon whose specialty was destruction and corruption.

Evenson looked at Agatha.

"Agatha, ready to become a goddess?"

Agatha merely shrugged.

"Do I need to prepare for that?"

She sounded almost bored.

"Back when the Twins were too busy to handle certain things themselves, I regularly went out and interacted with the mortal world on their behalf. Goddess, saint, divine messenger, living holy figure..." She waved one hand dismissively. "I’ve played so many roles that I’ve lost count."

"So you’ve got plenty of experience."

Evenson smiled.

"Then there’s nothing to worry about."

"But..." Sargeras’s spider-demon queen, Sagras, narrowed her eyes.

"Don’t you think you’re making this unnecessarily complicated?"

There was something suspiciously sour in her voice.

She had never gotten the opportunity to play any of these roles herself.

To be honest, most of the Eredar Twins’ business discussion had gone straight over her head. Mortal economics and politics weren’t exactly her area of interest.

But she had understood one thing.

The Eredar Twins were facing an obstacle.

And Sagras had a much simpler solution.

"Why bother with all this?"

She gestured casually.

"The Rift already belongs entirely to the Twins. We have nearly a hundred thousand demons here, and once the Fel Forge is complete, we’ll have even more."

"If something stands in our way, why not simply let me lead the army and crush whoever is responsible?"

Her expression brightened.

"Simple. Direct. Efficient."

Evenson, Agatha, and the Eredar Twins all looked up at her.

Then they simultaneously rolled their eyes.

Agatha quietly leaned toward Sagras.

"The Twins are enjoying the game they’re playing. Why are you suggesting we flip the entire table?"

She lowered her voice.

"Have you never heard the rule that the subordinate isn’t allowed to flip the table before the boss does?"

The Eredar Twins spoke next.

"Sagras, we know you’re loyal to us."

Their tone remained calm.

"But I’ve already given orders that the demons of the Rift are to keep a low profile. Don’t cause unnecessary trouble."

The Twins’ gaze hardened slightly.

"You’re supposed to be our trump card."

"So stop being in such a hurry to reveal yourself."

Sagras’s expression fell.

Evenson couldn’t help wondering whether she had just been told, in the gentlest possible way, to stop trying to solve every problem with an army.

For once, he was inclined to agree.