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Chapter 17 - Punishing The Bad Adults!

If there was one thing Lyrasia had noticed in her short, but eventful time in this village, it was that absolutely no one seemed remotely disturbed by the fact that she, a mere few-week-old baby, was casually strolling around like a seasoned adult.

Not a single soul batted an eye at her eerily precise motor control, her lack of baby wobbles, or the fact that she could, you know, talk in full, coherent sentences.

Was this some kind of cultural thing? Were medieval folks naturally this clueless?

No, that couldn't be right.

These were the same people who set women on fire for the heinous crime of literacy.

So why was everyone acting like this was normal?!

'Ah well, this isn't even my original world anyway...' Lyrasia shrugged, kicking a stray pebble. She had to be aware that this was a game world.

As she wandered through the village, taking in her strange new surroundings, she did notice the occasional odd stare. But at this point, they were just mildly intrigued, not outright horrified. After all, she was already the town's hottest gossip—The Genius Baby Who Walks and Talks!

"Oh, what an adorable little thing!"

"Look at those tiny wittle toes!"

Lyrasia shuddered. 'Revolting.'

She took a deep breath, forcing herself to find some logical explanation for all of this. 'Well... a game would be pretty boring if you had to wait actual years to grow up before doing anything,' she reasoned. It made sense. If they wanted to make this some kind of virtual reality experience, why would they force players to spend a full childhood drooling on themselves before they could actually play?

Still... did they have to call her tiny toes cute?

"Hey, I have this livestock. Take it. Need that pair of shoes."

"No problemo!"

Deals were being thrown around left and right, someone always had something to trade.

Chickens for grain, fabric for firewood, even an old fishing net for a homemade pie.

It was a chaotic, yet oddly efficient, system of organized bartering.

Lyrasia came to a sudden stop in the middle of the road, her baby-sized arms crossed as she surveyed the scene.

"This village... is so..." she squinted at a man trading a whole goat for a sack of potatoes. "Underdeveloped."

From what she observed, they were running purely on a bartering system. No coins, no standardized prices.

Bartering worked by people swapping goods and services directly. A farmer might trade fresh vegetables for a baker's bread. A craftsman might exchange a handmade tool for a warm winter cloak. Simple enough.

And sure, it kind of made sense.

She had no idea just how poor this kingdom was, but this village was clearly in the middle of nowhere.

No major trade routes passed through, meaning very few people here had even seen money.

The population was small, so everyone probably knew each other by name.

They produced almost everything they needed locally, which explained why they were basically living in their own little economic bubble.

"I can't just yeet my money onto the ground. That'd be way too suspicious..."

If there was one thing Lyrasia despised, it was throwing money at people who didn't deserve it. She wasn't some saintly philanthropist. She was far from it. In her eyes, people needed to earn their keep.

Secondly, money wasn't something to toss around like confetti.

Humans were inherently flawed, greedy little creatures, and if there was one lesson she carried from her past life, it was that sudden wealth made them worse.

And lastly? If she handed out too much, her money would lose its value.

She wasn't about to pull a Mansa Musa, the legendary Mali emperor who crashed economies by handing out too much gold. Unlike him, she had to be stingy. Selfish, even.

Because at the end of the day, wealth wasn't about generosity, it was about control.

"What?! You want ten of my precious eggs for one measly apple? Do you have any idea how hard my chickens work for those?"

"You should know by now, apples don't just magically fall from the sky! Unlike your chickens, these take years to grow, and they need proper care. These aren't just some measly grains!"

A full-blown shouting match had erupted in front of a market stall. One man clutched a basket of eggs like they were his firstborn children, while the other, a fruit seller, held his apples with the same level of reverence.

Lyrasia blinked. She never thought she'd witness the day when even the bartering system had inflation.

This chapt𝓮r is updat𝒆d by ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom.

But if there was one basic lesson in economics, it was this: Not all things have the same value—supply, demand, and necessity decide who wins and who gets scammed.

"Oh, don't you lie to me!"

"Look, I'm just trying to make a fair trade here!"

"FAIR TRADE?!"

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