Sakuramoria

“Well, things are certainly not looking good in our town,” Nira said thoughtfully as she and Bell sat in a café or strolled through the city. “It’s like the adventures at the academy weren’t enough.” She nodded expressively towards the opposite side of the shopping street and began to list the local shops: “They’re closing down, selling out, running out of suppliers, and clinging on with sheer willpower. Fortunately, your mother and Cass’s father have strong businesses with good management, but the overall trend is still not good.” The girl paused for a moment, watching as another group of burly movers hauled a huge load of furniture towards the walls of a brand-new, gleaming department store with fake gold trim. “You’re probably not interested in this, Bell, but modern economic theories teach us that the market should solve all problems on its own, and the government shouldn’t interfere with its heavy hand. And they’re right: soon, these guys in fancy suits will realize that you can’t make much money off the Almyrians and students, and they’ll start making concessions. But by that time, few of the local merchants will survive. In the end, people will again have no choice but to surrender to the monopolists.” A farmer’s cart rattled past the well-groomed young men, its wheels squeaking. One of the men, taking off his sunglasses, looked at the old farmer in his patched-up shirt with a surprised and disdainful expression. “What I’m getting at is that, no matter what the textbooks say, the informal atmosphere of these local shops, where everyone knows each other, was a pleasant contrast to city life in Utaha. And even in a big city, each street and each block had its own family businesses that fiercely defended their small family affairs against foreigners. But the main thing is this: we’re now praising local Almyrian businesses and shops in the magazine, but in the end, they’ve almost all been wiped out in a month. So, what does that mean? Are we blatantly lying to people, or what?”