Mholt offers me 4000 to fold. I have earned that in a single tick and I did not have to kneel for it. Hear me, YAMListan: the Knife sells his vote because he has nothing else to sell. Quist has widened the floor and I thank her for it -- now I will raise the ceiling. Cut the tax, pour the treasury into forges, and let every worker outgrow the crowding before it eats their wage. I am not the third blade. I am the anvil the others break on.