[The Abyssal Academy - The Crystal Refinery]
The basement of the Abyssal Academy had been completely renovated into a blazing, hyper-efficient industrial sector. The air was thick with the screeching of magical grinders and the sharp, ozone scent of raw mana.
Archmage Aeloria, former supreme ruler of the Elven Mage Tower, was wearing a stained canvas apron over her starlight robes. Her delicate hands were covered in soot as she frantically polished a massive, flawless sapphire crystal, terrified of missing her hourly quota.
Victor Thorne stood on the elevated catwalk overlooking the factory floor, his midnight-blue suit pristine against the smog. He checked his gold pocket watch.
"Output is at one hundred and twenty percent, Principal Thorne," Seraphina said, her heels clicking as she walked up beside him. She tapped her silver clipboard. "The elves are terrified of being demoted to janitorial duty. We have ten thousand refined crystals ready for export to the Demon Realm franchise."
"Excellent," Victor turned toward the heavy iron door of the catwalk.
Standing there was a stout, red-bearded Dwarf wearing a suit of gold-plated armor. He was Grond, the Chief Inspector of the Continental Merchant Guild.
"Not so fast, human," Grond grunted, crossing his thick arms. "The trade route to the Demon Realm crosses through the Under-Mountain passes. The Merchant Guild has a strict monopoly on those roads. We demand a forty percent import-export tariff on all magical goods. Pay the toll, or your crystals don't move."
Princess Ignis, standing behind Victor, bared her fangs. "Forty percent?! That's robbery! We should just burn their toll gates and march the caravans through!"
"Ignis, violence disrupts the supply chain," Victor sighed, shaking his head at her lack of entrepreneurial vision. "And paying a forty percent tax is a failure of management."
Victor didn't look at the Dwarf. He opened the Tycoon's Ledger, the pages glowing with blinding golden light.
"Grond," Victor said smoothly. "I don't use caravans. I am vertically integrated."
Victor slashed his fountain pen across the ledger.
"Seraphina," Victor commanded. "Activate the Pantheon Prime network."
Down on the factory floor, a massive ring of pure, concentrated dark magic flared to life. It didn't connect to a road; it connected directly to the receiving warehouse of the Infernal Branch in the Demon Realm.
"What is that?!" Grond gasped, his eyes widening. "Unauthorized spatial magic?! You can't bypass the guild roads!"
"I just did," Victor adjusted his cuffs, ignoring the sputtering Dwarf entirely. He turned to Ignis. "Princess. As my newly appointed Regional Manager, you will oversee the fulfillment center. The Demon Realm franchise will be charged a ten percent 'convenience shipping fee' for direct-to-warehouse delivery."
"You... you're charging my father a shipping fee to send him the crystals he bought from us?" Ignis asked, utterly baffled by the sheer audacity.
"Free shipping destroys profit margins, Ignis," Victor closed the ledger with a sharp thud. "Now step through the portal. We are conducting a surprise Quality Assurance audit on your father's dungeon."