In Medellín and the surrounding valleys, something strange began to happen.
The tool market simply… stopped.
stalls that had once echoed from dawn until dusk with the ringing of hammers now stood quiet. Shutters remained half-closed even after sunrise, and merchants who normally shouted prices into the streets suddenly found excuses to avoid customers. Some shops flatly refused to sell, especially those with known ties to the Cádiz Company. Others—independent sellers who had always prided themselves on neutrality—claimed they had nothing left at all, swearing that their inventories had been emptied overnight.
Between whispered conversations and cautious glances, a rumor spread like smoke through the alleys: someone was buying tools in bulk, clearing entire stores and leaving nothing behind.
Carlos listened in silence as the reports were laid before him. The smell of oil and hot metal still lingered in his office from the workshops below, but his expression darkened.
