The Garden of Gods was silent. Six billion pairs of eyes were fixed on Builder. He stood before the holographic projection of the city, his chest swelling with the pride of a creator.

The hammer of creation hung at his waist, a silent show of the power that had forged this utopia.

"Let us begin with the most fundamental need," Builder announced, his voice amplified by faith to reach every ear. He swept his arm towards the horizon. "First, let us talk about where we will live. The Southern District."

The Gods turned their gaze southwards. What they had assumed were grand administrative buildings from afar turned out out be their new houses.

They saw a sea of floating islands in the space, connected by bridges of woven light. Upon each island sat a structure that defied the humble definition of a house.

These were palaces of crystal and star-metal, towering spires of obsidian and gold, each one unique, each one radiating a faint, inviting hum.

"There is no need for shock," Builder said, enjoying the collective gasp that swept through the crowd. "Every single one of you has a mansion registered in your name. These are sanctuaries. They are fully customizable domains where you can rest your soul and body."

He expanded the projection, showing the interior of a standard mansion.

"Each estate comes equipped with a private garden for cultivating your world's unique flora, a farm for personal experiments, and a bestiary for your mounts. But the true value lies in the enchantments woven into the foundation. Every mansion possesses a permanent, passive buff: [Divine Restoration]. It removes mental fatigue and soothes the soul, allowing you to recover from the rigors of the God-Maker realm in a fraction of the time."

"Furthermore," Builder added, "as per the our previous decision, you are encouraged to create a specialized demigod; a butler, to manage your estate while you are away training or ruling. Your home will always be ready for you."

A murmur of excited conversation broke out. For days or even years for some, these Gods had lived in there empty God spaces, staring at system panel or their worlds.

Now, they had a neighborhood. They had a home.

Builder waited for the excitement to settle before pointing to the west. "Now, let us look to the Western Quadrant. This district is dedicated to Commerce."

The projection shifted to show a beautiful district of storefronts, stalls, and numerous grand buildings.

"You can rent land here," Builder explained, a grand smile splitting his face as he thought of his own real estate already secured near the entrance of the district.

"You can open shops, sell the unique specialties of your worlds; rare ores, magical beasts, unique technologies, and earn faith directly from your peers."

A hand went up from the crowd. It was a God who had grown used to the convenience of the System. "Builder," he asked, his voice skeptical, "why would anyone walk to a shop to buy something? We have the System Shop. We have Thea. We can just ask her to manifest whatever we need instantly. Isn't a physical market… unnecessary?"

Builder paused, his smile faltering slightly. He was an architect, not a merchant. He looked helplessly toward the throne where Sunny sat.

Sunny, sensing the shift in attention, leaned forward. The casual, relaxed posture of the Emperor vanished, replaced by the sharp gaze of a merchant.

"A valid question," Sunny's voice rumbled, silencing the murmurs. "Let us start by understanding the fundamental mechanics of our economy. When you buy an item from Thea; say, a ton of Mythril, she must manifest it. She uses your faith, to manifest the Mythril. This process incurs a massive energy loss. It is expensive. It is inefficient."

He gestured to the air. "Similarly, when you use the Bin function to sell your excess goods, you receive only a fraction of their value. Why? Because breaking matter back down into pure faith also incurs an energy loss."

Sunny stood, his cosmic robe swirling. "However, if God A has a surplus of Mythril, and God B needs Mythril, and they trade directly in the Bazaar… there is no manifestation. There is no destruction. It is simply a transfer. There is no energy loss."

He looked out over the crowd, his eyes gleaming. "Therefore, the Bazaar allows you to sell your goods for more than the Bin pays, and buy goods for less than the System Shop charges. It is the most efficient way to accumulate wealth."

The Gods nodded, their eyes widening in understanding. It made perfect sense. Sunny was looking out for their benefits.

'Was I thinking of their benefits?' Sunny thought, suppressing a smirk. 'Yes. Absolutely.'

'Will I be taking a loss because of the decreased System Shop transactions?'

'Absolutely not.'

He would charge rent for the land. He would charge a transaction tax on the profit made.

The money would still flow to him; he was just diversifying the streams. He wasn't losing customers; he was building a thriving, taxable economy.

"Thank you, Your Majesty, for clearing the doubts," Builder said, bowing low. He turned back to the crowd, his confidence restored. "Now, allow me to introduce the jewel of the Western District."

The particles of Thea's system swirled again, forming a massive, imposing structure of white marble and gold. Above the entrance, a shimmering board read: THE DIVINE BANK.

"This," Builder announced, "is your lifeline."

The projection moved inside, revealing an interior that looked less like a bank and more like a high-stakes stock exchange.

Massive screens displayed fluctuating values, counters were manned by Thea's panels, and private negotiation rooms lined the walls.

"Since you are all Gods," Builder explained, "you have ambition. You may see a path to improve your world, a new technology, a magical revolution, a massive project. But you lack the immediate Faith to fund it. This building solves that problem."

He gestured to the counters. "Here, you can pitch your ideas. You can present your world's potential to other Gods. If they see promise, they can invest in you. You sign a contract: they provide the Faith you need now, and in return, they receive a percentage of your world's Faith generation for a decided time."

"If there is profit, both Gods win," Builder said with a smile. "If the project fails… well, the contract will dictate the terms of repayment. You are all familiar with risk."

The Gods stared at the building, their minds racing with possibilities.

Those with rich worlds but no ideas saw a way to passively increase their wealth.

Those with brilliant ideas but poor worlds saw a way to jumpstart their civilizations. It was brilliant.

And of course, it was Sunny's idea.

He knew that facilitating these loans was an ultimate move. He would earn faith from the Contracting Fee. He would earn faith from the Venue Fee. He would earn a Tax on the profits.

And most importantly, he held the keys to the only enforcement mechanism: The Contract.

Since he had Sugata, the Demigod of Contracts and peace, every deal made in this building was bound by his authority.

If a God defaulted, if a dispute arose, he was the judge, jury, and executioner. The entire financial stability of the Pantheon would rest in his hands.

"Your Majesty," another God asked, raising a hand. "This is amazing. But… can't we just do these things online? Through Thea? Why do we need to physically come to this building?"

He wasn't trying to be difficult; he was just looking for efficiency. Why walk when you can telepathically transfer funds?

Sunny smiled. He had anticipated this.

"A great question," Sunny said, his voice smooth and persuasive. "Technically, yes. Thea could facilitate these transfers. But consider the nature of what you are doing. You are betting your future. You are handing over the fruits of your civilization."

Sunny added, "The contracts, they are physical entities, you would have too meet with each other, sign in front of each other. And to buy and sign these contract, you must come here."

"In the end, it is your choice," Sunny concluded, spreading his hands benevolently.

"But remember: if you make a deal outside of this building, without a sanctioned contract, and one party defaults… I cannot help you. I cannot enforce a promise made in the wind."

He explained it as a matter of security. In reality, it was about control. He wanted them in his city. He wanted them using his facilities.

He wanted the bustling, vibrant energy of a living society, not a network of isolated hermits.

The message was clear. Use my system, pay my taxes, and you are safe. Go outside the system, and you are on your own.

The Gods nodded, murmuring in agreement. The logic was sound. The safety was worth the trip.

They looked at the City of Gods not just as a home, but as a land of infinite opportunity.

And Sunny sat back, watching the gears of his new economy begin to turn, knowing that every rotation would grind out more power for his throne.

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