The Avatar of Efficiency
It is remarkably common for a thriving organization to be shaken by factional strife. To be cold and clinical about it, when three or more people gather, factions are bound to form, and taking sides to fight one another is simply human instinct.
Naturally, the masters managing large plantations in this era were well aware that their slaves were split into various factions. Not only did they leave them be, but many even encouraged it. The more the slaves were divided and at odds with one another, the harder it became for their collective dissatisfaction to be directed at the master.
Leo had mentioned that the field workers were ostracizing the house staff, but of course, the story from the other side was quite different.
"Don't the house staff think they're a bit superior to us?"
"Is that so?"
Ben, the head foreman who could be considered the middle manager of the field workers, was cautiously watching my expression, unable to sit still. It was an inevitable reaction; a slave being called into the master's room alone is usually perceived as being summoned for an interrogation.
To ease the tension, I took out two beer mugs and placed them on the desk.
"Shall we talk while we drink? I've been wanting to hear some honest stories from the field anyway."
"...Pardon? That..."
"Drink, drink. A glass of alcohol helps the honest stories come out."
As I picked up a glass and brought it to my lips first, Ben hesitated, then carefully lifted his glass, watching me. When I smiled and gestured for him to drink, he sipped the beer slowly, and I tilted my glass forward to initiate a toast.
"To the endless growth of the Sett Plantation."
"To... the... growth."
One glass didn't seem to do the trick, so I poured him another. Only then did I feel the tense atmosphere loosen, if only slightly.
When his second glass was about half empty, I slowly opened my mouth.
"Do the house staff usually look down on you guys?"
"It's not... exactly looking down on us. But since they are close to the master, there are times when they give off an air of superiority. After all, they get access to information much faster than we do, don't they? It's not once or twice that I've felt them bragging about that, and it's quite grating."
"I suppose that could be the case."
In reality, the field workers, who have almost no time to interact with the master, have no choice but to hear about the master's movements or moods from the servants working in the mansion. And the mansion staff, whether they meant to or not, likely gave off the impression that they were bestowing information upon them, which would naturally be annoying to those in the field.
"But the people working in the mansion say it's hard to narrow the distance because the field side, which does the harder labor, is too tightly knit among themselves. From what I hear, it seems both sides have their own positions?"
"That... I suppose that's true. We work in different places, and we are clearly separated."
"Then do you also see the current conflict between the field and the house as being because your positions are too different and there's no chance for you to mingle?"
"Yes. For now, I see that as a major factor."
"Then there's room for improvement in the near future. I'm planning a regular event. I'd like you to show some enthusiasm for it."
Upon hearing the plan I had in mind, Ben's face became a mixture of awe, shock, and anticipation.
"R-really? You're really going to do something like that?"
"Do you think I'd call you into my room, give you beer, and spout nonsense? Of course, loud items like drums or musical instruments are prohibited. It's unlikely to be noticed, but one can never be too careful."
"Th-that may be, but honestly, I don't understand. The previous master never did such things, and no other plantation in Mississippi holds such events..."
"Why don't you understand? The net profit of our initial volume this month is far superior to last year and the year before. I made a lot of money, and I'm giving a reward to you who increased my wealth so that you'll work even harder in the future. What's wrong with that?"
Ben couldn't say a word.
"Or, perhaps you don't like this method? If the old way was better, I don't mind reverting to it."
"N-no! That's not what I meant... We like it. We really do, but there's worry in the field about what will happen if the master decides to take away this system later."
"There is only one case where I would return to the old system."
Those on my plantation must be absolutely loyal to me. To the point where they could be used as a militia to protect me and my family in an emergency without any issues.
"If the plantation's profits fall lower than before. In other words, if you work as you do now, there's no reason to go back to the old ways. Ben, you don't think your master is a fool who would lose money on purpose, do you?"
"N-never! Absolutely not! I swear to God, Master, you are more... who was it, Sol...?"
"Solomon?"
"Yes, that wise king! You are wiser and more merciful than Solomon..."
"No, Ben. When you go back, make sure to emphasize this to the other foremen and workers. If you expect mercy from me, there is nothing I can do for you. And could you live in peace if your treatment was swayed by my unpredictable moods? Produce results. Then you will be able to live like this for a long time to come."
Ben, understanding what I wanted, nodded desperately.
If we get emotionally entangled, it's exhausting for everyone, so let's just keep things clean and predictable. That's the idea.
Under normal circumstances, Ben wouldn't have been able to say such things because he would have been too busy reading my expression, but as expected, a little alcohol makes conversation smoother.
"Then Ben, the event is at the end of this month, so tell the foremen to do their best. Assure them clearly that there will be no problems if they just keep working as they are now."
"Yes. I will work with all my might."
"You shouldn't die. If you die, who will earn my money? If you're even slightly sick, tell me immediately. Do you understand?"
"Y-yes, I understand!"
The owner who is determined to keep his labor force as healthy as possible because if slaves get sick, productivity drops immediately. That is James Sett.
Since your master is such a cold-blooded person, if you have any ailments, I hope you report them immediately and get treated. Got it?
For slaves, the first harvest season was originally the season they least wanted to face in the year. Since it was the easiest time to pick clean cotton, masters were sensitive to profits, and consequently, countless whip marks would appear on the slaves' bodies.
But this time was different. People getting whipped while working had virtually disappeared, and the intensity of labor had even decreased due to thorough team-based division of labor. Yet, profits had noticeably improved, and James had given small rewards to the teams that achieved excellent results, just as he had promised.
More food during distribution, scraps of meat, and various priorities.
All the field slaves, including Ben, from the foremen down to the general workers, began to harbor both anticipation and anxiety.
This new master is truly different. But there were plenty of plantation owners in this world who seemed nice at first but then changed completely. After all, white people in the South didn't think of them as the same human beings.
This was the very reason why Ben had told Leo last time that expecting things only leads to disappointment. Even he, however, had a premonition that something might be different this time.
"'Where would you find a fool who wouldn't continue when there's profit...' he said."
"Foreman, isn't there no reason to doubt? You said that by changing the system as the master said, profits increased even more. Then the master is obviously better off too."
"Right. He definitely nailed it down that we shouldn't expect any mercy from him. He just said that we should receive rewards as much as we increase the profits."
"I think that sounds persuasive."
"Me too. The current workload is actually reasonable, and why would the master tell us to pass that on? He gave us a clear answer not to be anxious because he will continue to do so in the future."
The other foremen and workers who had initially said they couldn't believe it had already switched their stance, every single one of them. As they brought up one reason after another why James's words were likely true, the cafeteria's distribution center became a scene of chaos in an instant.
Ben knew well why they had become so logical. Isn't it because they want to believe? That this reality will continue for a long time. That the new master, James Sett, is truly an extremely efficient and capable person, just as he says.
They were constantly looking for plausible reasons, hoping that this wish would not be broken. And James showed the evidence through actual action, just as he had told Ben.
The last Saturday evening of October.
The largest garden on the plantation was filled with a sight never seen before. A bonfire blazed, lighting up the darkness, and on top of it, scraps of meat sizzled, giving off a mouth-watering smell. On long tables, freshly baked bread, warm stew, and huge barrels of beer were lined up one after another.
Everyone, including Ben, dropped their jaws at the sight before them. They had heard about it, but he was really preparing such a place. The young new master was indeed not a man of two tongues.
Originally, even in the South, there were cultures that combined labor and festivals like a 'frolic,' or events where special food was given at the end of the year. But a 'company dinner' held in earnest to eat and drink like this was an unprecedented event.
"I-is this really for us to eat?"
"Indeed..."
Although the meat, stew, and bread were mostly made with leftover ingredients, considering the level of food they usually ate, this was no different from a special meal.
At the moment when everyone was just watching each other, James Sett, who came out to the mansion's veranda, opened his mouth while receiving everyone's gaze.
"Attention, everyone. As you know, the plantation's profit rate through October has exceeded 15% compared to the same period last year. I have made a lot of money, and I intend to give you the small rewards I promised, as a sign for you to work even harder in the future, as you have increased my assets."
His voice, as always, was devoid of emotion, calculating only rationality and efficiency, but it sounded better than any heavenly voice.
"I will call this place the 'Sett Plantation Regular Company Dinner' from now on. If the monthly profit rate or task achievement rate exceeds the target like today, you will always be able to have such a place on the last Saturday evening of the next month, and the month after that."
"Gasp..."
"E-every month?"
The murmurs spread like a wave. It was not a one-time event. Hope and excitement bloomed on everyone's faces at the fact they had doubted.
James enjoyed the reaction leisurely before continuing.
"And all this food was prepared by the house staff. I heard that when they heard they could eat and drink with you today, they put more heart into it than usual, trying to make it taste even better."
As soon as those words fell, Ben remembered James's instructions. And he was the first to clap and cheer more passionately than anyone else.
"Applause for our brothers and sisters! Waaaaah!"
"Thank you! Thank you!"
"Thank you so much! We'll eat well!"
At Ben's lead, the other field workers also came to their senses, clapping and shouting. Some even had tears in their eyes, perhaps overwhelmed by the regret of having kept a subtle distance. The house slaves, who had received the biggest cheers of their lives, seemed embarrassed, scratching their heads and blushing.
As the atmosphere heated up, James smiled with satisfaction and raised his hand to quiet everyone.
"The atmosphere is good. Then I will give one more surprise commendation."
What? This wasn't the end? This was something even Ben hadn't heard of, so he stared blankly up at the second-floor veranda.
"The team that showed the highest task achievement rate in the month of the company dinner will be given the privilege of drinking real beer, not the diluted half-beer, without limit."
"Ooooooh!"
"The excellent team of the month is... Team 2 led by Foreman Henry! Come forward!"
"Pardon? R-really?"
"Foreman Henry? Isn't that our team? Waaaaaaah!"
"I-I'm really drinking real beer for the first time! This isn't a dream, is it?"
Henry and his team members hugged each other and shouted as if they owned the world. It goes without saying that sighs of envy and applause poured out from all sides.
When James gestured, Leo, who had been waiting on the first floor, approached them, patted their shoulders, and handed them a ration ticket that allowed them to receive unlimited real beer.
"Congratulations. It was worth working hard."
"Ugh... thank you. Thank you."
"Leo, I... I'm sorry I didn't believe you last time. No, I didn't know anything back then..."
"That's understandable. We can just get along well from now on, right?"
A personal servant serving the master and a work foreman sharing a warm hug and building friendship? If someone had said such a day would come just a while ago, they would have been told they had gone mad from heatstroke.
James watched the excellent team members receive their ration tickets leisurely, then raised his voice.
"You all saw it, right? As you know, the teams change every month, so no one can monopolize this glory. Use this envy as fuel to work harder next month."
Just looking at this monthly rotation, their master was the embodiment of rationality. If the rankings were fixed, the workers' desire would drop, so he was giving everyone a chance to be number one by constantly mixing the members.
"Of course, you are free to get drunk, but keep in mind that anyone who causes trouble while drunk will be banned from participating in next month's dinner."
Henry, who had been giggling, saying he would drink until he was unconscious, stiffened his posture with a 'hic'.
A smile spread across everyone's lips at that ridiculous sight. James finally scanned the food-filled tables and sat in a chair he had brought out to the veranda.
"I've talked too much with food in front of us. The first Sett Plantation regular company dinner begins! Everyone, enjoy it to the fullest, relieve the fatigue of this month, and achieve the same results next month!"
"Waaaaaaah!"
"Long live the Master!"
A company dinner culture experienced for the first time in their lives. Everyone shouted and charged toward the food set up buffet-style, not as rations. They piled meat and bread on their plates as they pleased, clinking beer mugs, laughing, and chatting.
The quality of the food was poor, and the beer was cheap diluted stuff, but what did that matter?
"Now, attention! A company dinner shouldn't be without singing and dancing. If there's anyone confident in singing, let's hear a song. I'll give the one who sings the best the privilege of drinking a glass of this whiskey."
"Ooooooh! Me! Me! I'll sing!"
"What kind of song would you sing! Do you intend to dirty the master's ears! I, I sing much better!"
"No! Master! Those guys are all liars! Please listen to my song!"
James didn't come down to the garden himself, but he sat on the veranda, supervising them, occasionally having them sing or giving out prizes.
"Aaaah~ I once was lost~~ buuuut~ now~ Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound~"
"Wow, look at this guy? He's completely playing with the notes? As expected, the soul is alive. What's your name? Peter? Today's whiskey is yours."
"Thank you! I, Peter, will have the long-awaited first whiskey... Pffft! Cough! Cough! What, what is this... what kind of alcohol is this..."
"Hahaha! If you drink whiskey like beer, that's what happens. It's strong alcohol, so drink it slowly."
Leo approached Ben, who was staring blankly at the scene.
"How is it? Just as I said, right?"
"Yeah. You were right. I was a fool with no eye for people."
"A fool? You were just like that because you didn't know."
"...Yeah. But now I know. So I will never doubt you again."
Having seen this much, was there any choice other than to believe? From this day on, the foremen in the field, including Ben, decided to accept the information Leo brought without doubt.
Little by little, but surely. Without realizing it, they were becoming not slaves of the Sett family, but followers of James.