Chapter 523: The Luddite Movement(2)
Chapter 523: The Luddite Movement(2)
Unlike the Great Depression on Earth, the depression in this world lasted for less than half a year.
However, as an unprecedented catastrophe that hadn't even occurred during the Race War, its aftermath surpassed all imagination.
The steady supply maintained since the Race War was shattered by a single revolution, and because the system couldn't handle the fallout, everything came crashing down.
Had it been a gradual decline, things might have been different, but because the world plummeted into the abyss without warning, most nations took a direct hit.
Fortunately, thanks to Isaac’s advice, the introduction of mana engines showed signs of resolving the crisis—but they were merely signs.
While a single policy is enough to completely demolish an economy, it takes agonizing effort to rebuild one that has been shattered.
The world's first factory had been built, but its effectiveness had yet to be proven.
This meant that the policies implemented at the level of the Minerva Empire were still the primary measures in effect.
"Listen to yourself! You called for us when you needed us, and now you're telling us to leave?!"
An elderly man was venting his rage. He was characterized by a thick mustache and a stubborn expression.
Furthermore, his work clothes made it easy to deduce that he was engaged in a specific trade.
What exactly was making this old man so angry? Seeing the veins bulging in his neck, it was clearly no trivial matter.
"I will say it again. Once the factory's effectiveness is proven, everyone can return to where they came from."
A middle-aged man spoke calmly in front of the elder. Unlike the old man, he was a man of aristocratic bearing, dressed impeccably in formal attire.
In contrast to the raging elder, his attitude and expression remained composed. This only seemed to fuel the old man's fury further, causing him to roar.
"I already handed my position down to my disciples back in my hometown! If I go back now, what am I supposed to be?!"
"You're misunderstanding... You will only be sent back once the factory's effectiveness is proven. Until then, you are to continue the work you have been doing."
"You expect me to believe that hunk of iron can work better than me? Don't make me laugh! Besides, is there any guarantee the thread that machine spits out will be better than ours?"
"It is faster, however, and capable of mass production. In the current situation, we desperately need supply, not quality."
The noble—no, the official—and the old man engaged in a heated debate, neither giving an inch.
They were currently at the site of the world's first factory. In other words, the place where the mana engine had been introduced.
It was also the place where the Minerva Empire had gathered skilled artisans and laborers from across the country to fill the decimated supply lines.
To replenish the ravaged supply, they had gathered scattered masters. That was the only way to manage the situation somehow.
However, as the mana engines were introduced and signs of the supply shortage easing appeared, the order to disband had been issued. This confrontation was the result.
"Did we not say that compensation would be paid in full? We even stated that the state would directly assist with your re-employment. I truly don't see what the problem is."
The noble protested to the old man in a tone that suggested he couldn't understand the issue at all.
Though he was in a position where he had to follow orders from above, he honestly couldn't comprehend the old man's attitude.
Despite the global depression, most artisans and laborers had willingly complied with the Imperial Family's direct orders.
Not only were they given a 'sense of duty'—the idea that they were somehow supporting a collapsing world—but there was also substantial financial 'compensation.'
Moreover, since the state was directly intervening in the market economy, it was possible to employ laborers who had been reduced to the ranks of the unemployed.
"Furthermore, all the other laborers have accepted the terms and returned. I cannot understand why you specifically are protesting."
However, as time passed and mana engines were introduced, and automated looms appeared, the situation changed.
The moment the factory's effectiveness was proven, the number of related laborers could be reduced. Of course, they weren't being fired out of the blue.
So far, mana engines had only been introduced to the textile industry; the rest still required manual labor.
In time, mana engines would take over those roles as well, but no one knew how long that would take.
"If it is truly difficult for you, perhaps you could work the same jobs as the other laborers..."
"You're telling us to do menial labor?"
"Refrain from making remarks that utterly crush the pride and self-respect we've built as artisans!"
"I've spent twenty years weaving cloth! And now that hunk of iron is trying to tear it all down!"
When the noble carefully suggested another option, the other skilled workers, including the old man, protested vehemently.
Seeing this, the noble suppressed the deep irritation rising within him. It was obvious they wanted to live while being treated with high status.
But at the same time, he could understand. What if the effectiveness of the factory equipped with mana engines was proven? What if textile production, which used to be so difficult, became easy?
Everything the skilled artisans had achieved would turn to ash. If you could just run a machine and have cloth produced automatically, why would there be a need to hire them?
That was why they were resisting. Out of fear that everything they had built would become meaningless. Out of fear of losing the profession they had been dedicated to all their lives.
It was a perfectly natural reaction—the protest of those who could not adapt to the flow of the times.
"...I am well aware of what you are worried about. I also know what you have done during these difficult times. As I said before, if the factory's effectiveness cannot be proven, you may continue doing what you were doing."
"So the moment it is proven, we're discarded? Like a hound thrown away once the hunt is over?"
"It's not like that..."
"We don't need that kind of compensation! We've earned more than enough money, so what's the point of more!"
"Did His Imperial Majesty gather us just to use us like dogs and then toss us aside?"
Now they were even bringing up the Emperor. The noble felt a surge of anger and almost shouted, but he barely managed to hold it back.
What the artisans feared was not just their jobs, but their honor itself. It was only natural, considering that everything they had built over the years could come crashing down.
It was a truly tragic story, but in a chaotic situation, commoners like these artisans were nothing more than 'statistics.'
Emperor Berit had a strong sense of responsibility as a leader, but he couldn't pay attention to every single individual.
Unless they had a reputation bordering on divinity like Isaac, why would the Emperor meet with mere artisans?
Furthermore, Emperor Berit was so busy he wished he had a second body; he had no room to worry about anything else.
This incident served as a reminder that even an Emperor who wielded immense authority was just an individual, highlighting both the light and shadow of a monarchy.
I'd like to just send them away by force, but...
The Emperor, Berit, had emphasized this repeatedly: no matter what protests they made, do not suppress them; instead, soothe them gently.
Hadn't Bourgeois V of Machina done exactly that, only for a revolution to break out and the monarchy to fall?
Even the Kingdom of Ters had seen a failed revolution, but Machina's had succeeded, so they had no choice but to watch closely.
Moreover, since it was the dwarf laborers—the factories—who had united to topple the monarchy, it was only natural to be cautious.
He couldn't dare defy the Emperor's orders, so he had to follow them.
After finally calming the fire in his gut, the noble spoke clearly, his voice sounding as if it were being squeezed out.
"......Before His Imperial Majesty, Xenon himself was the one who suggested the introduction of mana engines. If you have a grievance, don't take it up with the Emperor; go take it up with Xenon."
"Ugh..."
"......"
As he played his trump card—his finishing blow—the artisans looked troubled.
One might curse the ruler when no one is listening, but even when no one was around, people were wary of Isaac.
He was a man protected by the gods themselves; one wrong move could invite divine punishment.
Furthermore, the noble's words weren't wrong in the slightest. Hadn't Isaac been the first to suggest the introduction of mana engines?
It was a perfect situation for the proverb: Getting slapped at Jongno and glaring at Han River. They were venting their frustrations on the wrong target.
"It is the flow of the times. The flow of the times. Do you think you are the only ones threatened by the emergence of machines?"
"......"
"It is the same for other artisans. In the future, there will be more things replaced by machines. Just consider yourselves unlucky. Venting your anger won't change a single thing."
A 'fact bomb' that didn't just hit home but shattered their resolve flowed from the noble's mouth.
The artisans wore various expressions as they were forced to face the reality they wanted to avoid.
Some turned red with rage, some felt the emptiness of the bitter reality, and some shrugged with a sense of resignation.
The emergence of 'mana engines' and 'machines' that performed better than skilled artisans was a shock that went beyond mere innovation.
"It will take at least a week to prove the factory's effectiveness. During that time, you will continue your work, and the moment the effectiveness is proven, you may return. If you need a job, we will find you one; if you need compensation, name it."
"......"
"Then, excuse me."
The noble finished what he had to say and left with his knights.
Watching them depart, the elderly artisan let out a hollow, dejected laugh.
"......The skills I've built for over thirty years are crumbling over my head."
"......"
"Let's go back for now. I need to think."
Following the old man's lead, the artisans began to move listlessly.
As they moved, they saw the mana engine installed by Eins himself, and the loom powered by that engine.
The cloth produced by this machine today was an overwhelming amount—more than three times the production of the artisans.
And that was just based on one machine. In the future, machines would continue to produce a variety of fabrics.
The artisans each looked at the machine with troubled eyes before returning to the breakroom.
Perhaps having learned from the revolution in Machina, the Minerva Empire treated its laborers well.
Thanks to that, the breakroom was not only spacious but also equipped with decent amenities.
"This makes no sense! To think that hunk of iron is so much better than us...!!"
In the heavy atmosphere, a relatively young-looking artisan lamented in a frustrated voice.
While the other artisans all had deep wrinkles, this meant this artisan hadn't been a 'master' for very long.
Or perhaps he possessed skill rivaling a master. Either way, it didn't matter in front of the machine.
"Those people don't know what we want! We're just afraid that the profession of weaving will disappear!"
At the young weaver's appeal, the other masters nodded in agreement.
In truth, they didn't need money or fame. They already had both.
But the emergence of the mana engine threatened the very existence of the weaving profession.
No, it wasn't just threatening it; it was destroying it in real-time. Not just the job, but their honor as well.
For masters who had honed their weaving skills for decades, a powerful sense of 'existential dread' was bound to strike.
"Can't we do something? At this rate, not just our jobs, but everything we've built..."
The young weaver pleaded with the old man. The other weavers also turned their gaze toward him.
The old man was the most skilled among the artisans and had the most experience. Naturally, he had taken on the role of leader.
However, the old man also looked troubled, as if no good solution came to mind. He quietly stroked his mustache and spoke softly.
"......It's regrettable, but in this depression, they need that machine more than us. Regrettably."
"That's..."
"Do you know how much cloth that damned machine produces? It's more than the amount we produce working all day. Just today alone."
Sadly, this was the reality. The amount of cloth produced by the loom was overwhelmingly greater than that of the weavers.
The only reason they had allowed a few days to prove its effectiveness was simple: to check if it broke down easily.
If there were frequent breakdowns, it would be quite troublesome for the Minerva Empire, so they were taking a wait-and-see approach for now.
They weren't even considering 'cost-effectiveness' here. With supply so low that prices were skyrocketing, they could afford to overlook that.
Mass production. They were aiming for mass production and nothing else.
"I'd like to smash that machine to pieces... but cowardly as it is, I value my life. Aren't you all the same?"
"......"
"......"
At the old man's question, everyone, including the passionate young weaver, fell silent.
If the factory were privately owned, they might have smashed the machine and kept it quiet, but it was state-owned. It was the same as the Emperor's property.
A mere artisan damaging the Emperor's property?
They would be dragged straight to the gallows and hung from a rope. It was an all-too-obvious conclusion.
"......Should we protest? Like the factories?"
Someone made a timid suggestion, but...
"Do so if you want to be pelted with stones. They've treated us damn well, so it'll only make the atmosphere worse."
"It was certainly better treatment than I've ever received in my life..."
"I ate food that nobles eat for the first time in my life."
It was immediately dismissed.
The Minerva Empire had used the revolution in Machina as a lesson and treated its laborers with respect.
As mentioned before, they had instilled a 'sense of duty' and even prepared 'compensation' accordingly. It was thorough, to say the least.
So, the moment they protested because machines were taking their jobs, they would be dragged away.
And they would receive cold glares as they were led off.
"Then how about this?"
While everyone was despondent, the most passionate young artisan proposed a brilliant idea.
At that moment, all eyes focused on the young man, and once he had their attention, he spoke.
"We secretly break the machine and say it was the work of Demon Worshippers."
"Hmm?"
"I mean, Demon Worshippers are the ones who do crazy things, right? They're the ones who even did a suicide bombing at a printing press to stop the release of the Xenon Biography."
"......Explain in detail."
When the old man asked, sounding interested, the young artisan poured out a more detailed plan.
The other artisans felt the same. If something went wrong with the machine, they wouldn't have to worry about losing their jobs.
The fact that the factory was state-owned was also fine. They had the 'Demon Worshippers'—the enemy of all and the public evil.
Their track record was so 'spectacular' that it would be easy to pin anything on them.
"We give the impression that those bastards hate 'machines.' If that happens, the Empire will have no choice but to hire us, even if they don't want to. Isn't that a good plan?"
"Ho... that's not bad."
"It's worth a try."
"Just to be safe, we must make sure not even a shred of suspicion falls on us. I'll gather everyone's opinions tomorrow and convey our agreement."
It was the beginning of the fantasy version of the Luddite Movement.
*
Three days after the Luddite Movement began.
[Breaking News! Weaver working at the factory found hanged inside the facility...]
[The weaver's name is Erich Pan. A master who honed his weaving skills for 30 years, he was a role model for other weavers...]
[The Empire has moved quickly to identify the body. They are currently investigating whether this is related to the recent machine sabotage carried out by Demon Worshippers.]
A real Demon Worshipper had appeared.