Fast forward four years, the village became a thriving ground.  Tourists paid royalties just to see the town in its heyday.  Lords of distant lands came to see and appraise it’s wares.  Artisans worked over forges that proved successful only in practice.

The mayor had found himself becoming one of the richest tycoons in the valley, and he’d rejected the lion’s share.

Paradise had come to the edge of the valley, but that legacy was coming to an abrupt end.

In recent years, he had invested in sanctions which enabled the village to progress with abandon.  His efforts enlisted the support of some of the world's heavy lifters, and banked on their ability to exceed expectations.

From the day he witnessed a child designing waterworks in the sand, he felt that without a doubt.

But there was a limit that could never be paid off, and the valley could no longer afford the shadow of its neighbor.  The small town became too powerful, responsive, and influential for the larger settlements to keep up.

These heavy lifters knew they were seeing the dawn of a new era, but a spiteful sort still saw arrogant opportunities at its helm.  It was far easier to negotiate, and the great city had many hands with which to deliver the blow.

It started with taxes.   The mayor and an inner circle dealt with the majority of political threads.  In reality, they each represented industries that spanned the world.  Something that the common citizen was not liable to bear.  This meant residents were free of financial trappings.

They should have been, but most people held the mayor in very high esteem, so when debt collectors showed up, each household was more than willing to cover for him.

They paid a king's ransom more than five times in an afternoon.  A cloud was cast over the city by nightfall.  The mayor made his position known, and waited to see what the metropolis would do.

Time passed, and the mayor encouraged the residents to resume business as usual.  He also suggested that they assume the worst, and that justice should be founded in their own homes.

In truth, he had a contact in the city.  The big corporations were already aware and starting an investigation.  He knew the snake however, and the city would not be sending aid until they had confirmation.

It had taken too long already, and by their description, the financial envoys were legitimate.  They could not have doctored the books without arousing suspicion, and the sheer weight of the transfer would have hit the servers like a slug.

If help was coming, it never would have been a problem in the first place.  He received a written review at the end of the month that cleared the town of all charges.

With this decree, the tycoon cracked and the mask fell.  The demon king of thieves had returned, as they were formally under attack.