bookbashuk Chapter 28 Vito: Yes, even breathing is taxed!
Chapter 28 Vito: Yes, even breathing is taxed!
"First, the pawnshop! Look, apprentices and masters have to pay guild dues. If the shop's turnover exceeds a certain amount, they have to pay 'ledger tax' to the tax collector! And they have to renew their pawnshop license every year! Oh, and if they stay open after dark, sorry, 'lamp oil money'!"
Oh, right, and there's the "street maintenance fee" and "security tax" that Ries shops can never escape—by the Seven Gods, those tax collectors and so-called security officers are only ever seen when they're collecting money; otherwise, you won't even catch a whiff of their farts! Damn it, they're lounging on young girls' bellies collecting money, while I have to brave wind and rain for a pittance. Not working? Ha! That's "not in line with Ries's traditional values of diligence!"
"Instead of relying on those black dogs," Vito pointed to the crossbow on his shelf, "I'd rather rely on this! This thing can pierce through those petty thieves! From their mouths to their dermatitis."
"The same goes for olive oil shops; they can't escape the 'street maintenance fee' and 'security tax.' There's no question about that!"
"Then, your oil is transported from the countryside and enters the markets within a ten-mile radius of the city. Ha! At this point, the tax collectors are waiting on the road. They're always ready to stuff their copper and silver coins into their hands—this is for paying the 'city entry tax'! By the Seven Gods, some slaves in the disputed colonies are quite curious: are the walls of Rhys invisible? Why have they never seen the walls, yet their masters are being asked to pay the 'city entry tax' on the road?"
"Huh?" Tiberius found it rather ridiculous. "Taking taxes like this? This... paying money before even entering the city?"
"Wait, it's not over yet!" Vito rubbed his nose, smiling rather sarcastically. "When you actually enter the city gates, there are tax collectors waiting for you! They'll see your wagon, oh dear! Time to pay the 'city gate tax'!"
"The dye workshop looks like a golden goose. Indeed, dyes and silk are both profitable, but! Every vat of dye comes with a strange 'color smoke tax'! They say the smoke from boiling dye pollutes the air, I accept that, it does smell! Dyed silk production? Great, 'luxury tax' awaits you! Fine, I can tolerate that too, after all, it is indeed expensive!" Vito spat as he spoke, then slammed his hand on the table.
"But besides these vampire-like tax collectors, there are also guilds waiting for us! The apprentices and master craftsmen in the workshops, in addition to their wages, have to pay their own membership fees to the dye guild, or they can forget about making a living in this business!"
Seeing Tiberius's dismissive attitude, Vito gave him a rather serious reminder.
"Don't underestimate those monopolistic giants within the guild, let me tell you, kid. They're no less ruthless than us mercenaries! If anyone dares not to pay their dues or not to work according to those complicated guild bylaws, these guys will hire mercenaries to raid and plunder your place at night, and maybe even set it on fire!"
"And then there's the 'cleanliness tax' paid to the city government, supposedly for handling dye waste. I suspect they just dump the waste into the sea! Cleanliness? Their women, however, clean their vaults spotless when they go shopping!"
Finally, he picked up the two flimsy ship deeds: "As for these two rickety sailing merchant ships? There's the registration tax in Lisbon, the tonnage tax calculated by tonnage, and the 'maritime merchant dues' to those maritime merchant associations. Otherwise, 'running aground,' 'piracy,' 'trapped,' 'refusing to come to your aid'... one of these will suit you!"
"You think that's all? Let me tell you, because we're about to go to war with Valantis, the 'ingenious' schemes of the current tax collectors of Ries will open your eyes!" He drawled, with a mocking tone that implied "you're still too green."
He continued his tirade, counting on his new fingers: "Have you heard of the 'thermal bath tax'? Yes, that's the thermal bath in your villa that you seem to enjoy so much! Now you know why your Uncle Jules had such a complicated expression, like he'd swallowed a fly, when he saw that thermal bath on the villa's list, right? It's a bottomless pit that swallows up gold coins!"
"And then there's the 'window tax'! You pay tax based on the size of the windows in your house, so you see, many people, even wealthy ones, brick up their windows! The same goes for the 'door tax,' they say the more doors you have, the richer you are... but does a dog hole count as a door?"
"Oh, by the way, you mercenaries who carry swords around everywhere, there's going to be an extra tax on your entry into the city! They call it a 'special tax on carrying weapons'!"
Tiberius couldn't help but retort, "That's absurd! We're fighting for Rhys! Besides, what kind of mercenary is a mercenary without a sword?"
"You think it's unfair? Sure! Go argue with the city guard and see if his reasoning is stronger or your sword is faster," Vito said with a sneer.
"They called it a 'weapons deposit,' supposedly for 'city safety,' to make you 'hesitant to act,' saying it would be refunded when you left the city if you behaved yourself… To this day, I haven't seen my deposit returned!"
Vito grew angrier and angrier, and finally grabbed a letter sealed with sealing wax from the table and almost threw it in front of Tiberius.
"And the worst part is yet to come! Our dear Governor Lisandro, who has devoted himself to the cause of Ries, has just proposed a new bill in Parliament! What a 'Special War Tax,' what 'Victory Bonds'... They sound nice, but in essence, it's about going to war and first squeezing every last drop of wealth from those who might have a little something to lose! The rich, the landowners, the factory owners, the slave owners, the fleet owners—not a single one of them will escape! Pay the special tax!"
He grabbed the wine glass on the table, took a big gulp, and then slammed the empty glass onto the table with a "bang," making the inkwell jump.
"However..." he lowered his voice, the indignant expression on his face slowly transforming into a strange, slightly gloating smile as he leaned closer to Tiberius.
"Hehe, but this knife is being slashed at all the fat sheep of Ries! Guess what? Now, all those arrogant merchants, guild leaders, big ship owners, and manor owners in the entire city of Ries are in an uproar! The council is as noisy as a marketplace, and I heard that Governor Bambaro's face turned green!"
He couldn't help but sneer, "That old bastard Lisandra is trying to use the pretext of preparing for war with Valantis to bolster his own coffers and war funds, while also muddying the waters. His prestige is high right now, and with the Hein family on his side, he might actually be able to force this proposal through. Then… hehe, there will be plenty of people who will have a bigger headache than us!"
Tiberius was overwhelmed by this series of unprecedented taxes. Clinging to his last shred of hope, he murmured in an almost desperate tone, "Fine... but in the city of Ries, surely... we can't possibly have to pay taxes even for breathing?"
Vito let out a short, piercing laugh, a mocking tone that said, "You're still too naive." He slowly pulled another parchment from the thick stack of documents, his movements carrying a deliberate, unsettling ease.
"Why not?" He cleared his throat and read in an annoyingly flat voice, mimicking the affected tone of a tax collector reading official documents:
"In view of the fact that some workshops, especially those engaged in dye production, metal smelting, lime burning, and glass blowing, emit fumes, dust, and peculiar odors during their production processes, which may adversely affect the air quality of the city of Lis... uh, Lis. In order to protect the health and well-being of all citizens, demonstrate the care of the city's administrators, and raise funds for related purification and monitoring costs, we hereby levy—an 'Air Purification Tax'! Hehe, how about it, Tiberius?"
After reciting this high-sounding article, he instantly reverted to his rough, vulgar voice, his face filled with undisguised contempt and disdain. He spat on the ground: "Pah! See that, kid? Breathing? It's pretty much the same as this! Taxing the air? They call it 'potentially causing adverse effects'! As for how they plan to 'purify' this damn air, filled with the stench of seafood and spices?"
He helplessly spread his hands. "These gentlemen, are they planning to hire the sorcerers of Mil to perform some kind of magic that summons wind and rain, or have the Braavos troupe blow all the smoke from the workshop into the sea with their fans, or are they planning to fill the dancers' stockings with this 'toxic gas'? God knows! Anyway, they'll just collect the money and stuff it into their own vaults first!"
Tiberius felt his throat go dry. He swallowed hard and almost instinctively asked, "Then...where's the water?"
Vito seemed to have anticipated his question and skillfully pulled out another piece of paper.
"Listen!" he read in the same tiresome bureaucratic tone, "In view of the fact that some workshops, especially those engaged in dye production, olive oil pressing, leather tanning, and mineral smelting, discharge wastewater and waste residue containing harmful substances directly into rivers or seep into the ground during their production processes, in order to ensure the long-term cleanliness and safety of the Ries water source, avoid public health risks, and bear the corresponding supervision and management costs, a Water Source Cleaning and Maintenance Tax is hereby levied!"
He tossed the piece of paper aside and added, "Simply put, it's a water cleanliness tax! Whether you use the city's water or not, as long as you run a factory and generate wastewater—or they 'think' you might—you have to pay!"
"Oh, wait, there's more!" Vito pulled a thick, leather-bound booklet from under his feet. Tiberius's eyes also revealed despair.
“The Codex of Ries, lad,” Vito grinned. “A hundred gold coins a copy, but I paid with ‘iron coins’ for it. Tsk, that’s a nice tradition among the Ironborn sometimes, isn’t it?”
"Water system tax, yeah, kid. Wells within the Ries City area, want to use them? You have to pay! And Ries's proud ceramic water pipe system, yeah, that's taxed too."
Tiberius slumped into his chair, covering his face with his hands. His voice, muffled and utterly powerless, escaped through his fingers: "Then... Vito... just tell me directly, what other taxes are we exempt from paying? There must be some! After all, we're not Rissians!"
Vito raised an eyebrow as he watched him, seemingly enjoying this rare moment where he could utterly crush the shrewd "Lightning Boy."
So he deliberately hesitated for a moment before turning out a legal article from the code.
"Hmm... how about this one?" Vito's tone carried a strange mix of mockery and relief.
"The 'Ries Citizen Honor Tax'...sounds impressive, doesn't it? But," he chuckled, putting the book aside.
"We don't need to worry about that. This is specifically for those who have official citizenship in Ries, the so-called 'free people.' Consider it a small price they pay for enjoying the 'glory of the great Ries.'"
"As for us mercenaries who risk our lives for money, we are pure foreigners. We don't yet have the 'honor' of being taxed like this."
"Oh, right..." Vito seemed to suddenly remember something and quickly turned to another page. "Although we are not Reissians, as long-term foreign residents, we are required to pay a 'settlement tax'!"
"It's written in black and white, crystal clear!" he said gruffly. "Any non-citizen of Ris who resides continuously in Ris and its territory for more than ninety days and has a fixed residence is considered a long-term resident foreigner and must purchase a 'residence permit' annually to enjoy the glory and protection of Ris and its high-quality services..."
He looked up at Tiberius's dumbfounded expression, sneered, and continued explaining, "See? Ninety consecutive days of residence, and we have a base, right? Perfectly meets the requirements!"
He mimicked the tax collector's high-sounding rhetoric: "Saying things like 'thank you all for your contributions to the prosperity of Ries and for the safety and order provided by the city-state of Ries'... Bah! To put it bluntly, it's just an excuse to squeeze another layer of profit out of you! You pay to breathe, you pay to use water, you pay to stand on this land!"
"Is there anything else?" Tiberius felt dizzy.
"Yes? Absolutely!" Vito once again flashed that superior smile that seemed to say, "What do you know? You're too young."
"Hey, look here, foreign property tax... You just received houses, properties, and manors as rewards, right? And here comes the tax! If you ask me, what if this is just targeting outsiders like us who have just acquired some property, to make us bleed a little! Maybe they think that you foreigners have suddenly become rich, so the city-state should 'share' some of your wealth. After all, it's wealth acquired under the protection of 'Great Ries,' so what's wrong with taking a little from you?!"
He gave Tiberius no chance to catch his breath and continued reading: "Furthermore, the non-citizen military service substitution tax: According to the 'City Defense and Military Service Law,' all free citizens of the appropriate age and in good health residing in the city of Lis and its attached territories are obligated to participate in the defense of the city during wartime or in a state of emergency..." He paused deliberately here, looked at Tiberius, and put on an extremely absurd expression.
"But! We, the White Legion, are fucking legitimate mercenaries, our contracts clearly state in black and white that we fight for Ries! And what's the result? This decree means we 'outsiders' can't even go directly onto the city walls—they're afraid we'll cause trouble! Want to 'fulfill' this 'glorious obligation'? Fine, pay up! Even though this is what we train for every day! But! I almost lost my life on the battlefield, and then you tell me: this is a right you need to buy? Unbelievable!"
"Oh, right, I almost forgot this—the special wartime profits tax!" Vito pointed to another clause. "The council believes that during wartime, some people may receive 'excessive' profits, so it's necessary to levy a tax in advance... to prevent us from 'earning too much' and to keep us 'from becoming arrogant and complacent'!"
Upon hearing this, Tiberius finally understood why the capitalist system was indeed advanced.
This feudal autocratic system was designed from the very beginning to completely devour them!
"Ahem, kid, don't panic! These abstract things only exist in the legal code. If there's a real war, the city government won't levy such taxes..." Vito coughed lightly a few times.
Why?
"Fool, brat. If they really dare to charge us mercenary groups who risk our lives with a 'military service substitution tax,' or collect a 'special income tax' in advance just because we might make money, then who will protect Rhys and the governors' dancers and effeminate men? Tax collectors?"