The Harvest of the First Batch
The full-scale training at the Sett Rehabilitation Center had already begun.
However, the slaves who had been dragged here absolutely did not believe it.
They viewed this as nothing more than a ploy to lower their guard, convinced that they had no way of knowing when the cruel exploitation would begin again.
Because of this, rather than stepping forward himself, Sett actively mobilized the Black men under his command.
Will, the chief political officer, along with his assistants Leo and Ben, took charge of the training for the first batch of recruits.
Will, in particular, was a celebrity among the Black people dragged from the North—there wasn't a soul who didn't know him—so his influence here was nothing short of absolute.
"······."
"First, you will be farming here. But it isn't a grueling crop like cotton; you’ll be producing the food you eat yourselves, so there’s no need to feel resentful. You’ll produce it directly, and the surplus won't go into the bellies of white men—it will be stored right there in the warehouse."
Countless slaves groaned, thinking that the masters were finally showing their true colors.
Just as they thought.
They must have dragged them here to use them as food-production tools under the guise of 'rehabilitation' or whatever.
From now on, they would be exploited as machines producing food until the day they died.
Except for Nick, who had been tipped off by Will the day before, everyone else hung their heads in despair.
"For this, you must eat three full meals a day from now on. You will be provided with a diet that ensures sufficient nutrition, considering your physical condition, and you must exercise regularly for your health. Also, since food farming doesn't require the back-breaking labor of cotton farming, you will be able to receive various educations and enjoy leisure time in your spare hours."
"···?"
"Enjoy what?"
Someone asked blankly at Will's final words.
Slaves enjoying leisure?
It was something they had never heard of in their entire lives. Even in the North, they were too busy trying to survive to enjoy any leisure activities, so what kind of nonsense was he spouting?
"I mean exactly what I said. Whether you take a nap, exercise, or play ball at the baseball field over there, it’s your freedom. For those who like to sing, I can even gather you separately for choir practice."
"···Baseball?"
"Freedom? What on earth is all this talk?"
The entire camp was in an uproar.
Of course, anyone could say kind things, so they couldn't just blindly trust them.
However, contrary to their expectations, the daily routine Will described was implemented the very next day, as if it were a lie.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
"Alright, wake up. It’s time for breakfast!"
"Wh-what is this?"
"How is there so much meat in this soup?"
They woke up early in the morning to eat a nutritious meal, and in the morning, they sweated in the corn or potato fields.
It would be a lie to say it wasn't hard, but it couldn't be compared to the murderous labor in the cotton fields.
Above all, this wasn't grain used to fatten the bellies of white men like cotton.
Thinking that they were growing 'what they would eat themselves,' it wasn't actually particularly unfair or difficult.
After a short rest following lunch, they were given time for education or leisure in the afternoon.
For the first few days, most of the recruits stayed holed up in their barracks, watching each other with anxious eyes or sleeping helplessly.
Waiting for the whips and shouting that could strike at any moment.
But the whips never came down.
Instead, seniors from the Sett plantation appeared, carrying baseball bats and gloves.
"Come on, come on! Let’s loosen up! I’ll teach you how to throw a ball first!"
"Wh-why are we doing this···? No, before that, are we even allowed to do this?"
"It’s the Master’s order! If you learn the rules here and leave, you can make a baseball team at the rehabilitation center too! It’s so much fun!"
"That’s right. And since thousands of people will be living here in the long run, we could even have our own league."
Those who followed along, half-doubting, threw and caught a baseball for the first time in their lives.
They were awkward and clumsy, but amidst the simple act of tossing the ball back and forth, laughter they had forgotten began to burst out little by little.
Those who liked to sing gathered separately and sang hymns in clumsy harmony.
That, too, was their own choice, not a forced one.
And after dinner, a special education session was provided. The instructor was, again, Will.
"Everyone knows who I am."
He told his past calmly, as if telling an old story.
The '50-cent freedom' in Boston.
The despair of being caught again.
And the confusion and changes he experienced at the Sett plantation, which had now become his home.
"At first, I was just like you. This is a trick. Those bastards are deceiving us. That’s what I believed."
There was a strange persuasiveness in his voice.
A sense of camaraderie formed, which only those who had shared the same experience could possess.
"But as time passed, I realized. The Master is different. He calls us slaves, but at the same time, he sees us as 'valuable assets'."
He said they weren't tools to be discarded when they became useless, but precious assets that brought greater profit when managed and invested in well.
However, Nick couldn't hold back and asked a question.
"So···isn't that management ultimately just exploitation? No matter how well we eat and live here, we’re still just slaves in the end."
Will looked at Nick and smirked.
"Exploitation? Sure, it could be exploitation. But wasn't life in the North exploitation? Working 14 hours a day for 50 cents? Having to die on the street if you got sick?"
He looked around the entire camp and said.
"Shall I be honest? You might actually be luckier than the guys who were rescued by John Brown and went back to the North."
"······What?"
"They went back to hell. In that 50-cent freedom, even if they were liberated, their standard of living wouldn't improve much."
Will continued, looking around at them as they were each handed a drink.
"You are receiving an education here. You learn skills, and you learn our system. A few years from now, you will leave this rehabilitation center and work as official employees of Sett Cotton. If you want to, of course."
'Sett Cotton.' 'Employees.' The recruits wore bewildered expressions at the unfamiliar words.
"What···is that?"
"It’s the future. It’s the new world the Master is building. Everything you learn now will become a weapon to survive in that world."
Nick still couldn't understand.
Not just Nick, but everyone in the room couldn't close their mouths, as if possessed by something.
A future for a slave? Employees?
His head was a mess.
The warmth of the bread he ate every day, the feel of the baseball glove he held for the first time this afternoon,
And even Will's eyes, filled with conviction as he spoke of the 'future' right before his eyes.
The next day, Nick participated in baseball training with the other recruits.
The 'senior' slaves from the Sett plantation talked to them without hesitation and taught them techniques, just like colleagues who had known each other for a long time.
"Hey, rookie! Relax your shoulders! You’ll blow your arm out if you throw like that!"
"Good form! You hit it right that time, didn't you?"
Laughter erupted.
While sweating, shouting together, and scratching their heads at mistakes, they seemed to forget, even if just for a moment, that they were slaves dragged to a rehabilitation center.
As a few days passed like that, they found the peace of mind to seriously reconsider the 'future' Will was talking about.
"So, the purpose of the rehabilitation center is to seek a more comfortable life than the free Black people who live with discrimination in the North, even if we live as slaves? A kind of compromise?"
"I thought so too at first, but it’s different. To be precise, the Master convinced us by saying that, but the reality he was looking at was much further ahead."
"What exactly do you mean by looking further ahead?"
"Liberation."
Everyone froze at the appearance of a word they hadn't expected.
Knowing the price of uttering the word 'liberation' in this South, they reflexively clutched their heads and looked around.
And, at that moment, the door burst open, and the man who had been granted absolute power over this rehabilitation center walked in.
Their temporary master, walking in with the dignity of a king, escorted by countless Black men.
James Sett was standing before them.
"H-h-hic! No! We weren't plotting treason!"
"Th-that! Will was the only one talking over there!"
"It’s true. We didn't say a single word about liberation or anything like that!"
As soon as I entered, countless people screamed, trembling in fear.
Will, far from feeling bitter at those blaming him, wore a pitiful smile and stood at attention, raising his fist to the sky toward me.
"You have arrived, Master!"
Ah, I really want to fix that salute every time I see it.
I’m genuinely nervous that a finger might straighten out there.
Standing next to Will, I scanned the pitiful recruits who were reading my expression.
I had originally thought of a more dramatic reaction, but seeing them loosened up even to this extent, it seems the influence of the top-tier political officer Will was greater than expected.
"Nice to meet you. I am James Sett. You can think of me as the person in charge who will act as your temporary master until you are liberated, and who will pass on the knowledge and skills you need."
"···Excuse me?"
"Liberation?"
"···So Will wasn't···talking on his own?"
Relief and bewilderment settled in the eyes of those who had been desperate to avoid punishment just a moment ago.
The feeling that they couldn't understand at all what situation they were in right now was conveyed so well that I almost let out a small laugh.
"My basic policy has been told to you by my workers, including Will. There isn't a single thing wrong with what you’ve heard, and the big picture won't change in the future. I only ask one thing of you. Work hard at farming, and in your spare time, complete the education I provide and wait for the right moment."
"If you mean the right moment···."
"Liberation, obviously. But for that liberation to happen, there must be a war. The atmosphere between the North and the South is getting increasingly hostile, so a war will break out soon. Since there’s no way the South will win against the North, once the South is defeated, you will automatically be liberated, right?"
The slaves at the rehabilitation center weren't people who had lived their whole lives in the South; they were all people who had at least dipped their toes into life in the North.
Perhaps because they understood the situation with just this much explanation, vitality began to return to eyes that had been dead just a moment ago.
"Th-then! Mr. Sett is taking care of us safely until that day comes···!"
"How can there be such a grateful place in the world!"
"Thank you, thank you!"
"We will only listen to Mr. Sett and live like mice without causing any trouble!"
This is great because they understand quickly, but why are they all so obedient?
Since they had been to the North, I thought they would be overflowing with a fighting spirit, but perhaps because they had been rolled around as second-class citizens in the North, there was almost no will to resist.
This won't do. If I wanted you to live like mice, why would I build a facility like this to train you?
"You’re just going to stay here until the war ends? Are you guys not even resentful?"
"···Excuse me?"
"Most of you must have been born in the South. You were born, and planters called you slaves, made you do grueling labor all day, didn't feed you properly, and swung whips and fists if you resisted. You endured that until you couldn't take the shitty treatment anymore and ran away to the North, didn't you? But when you lived there, what happened? The white people didn't treat you properly, asking where some dirty nigger thought they were trying to act equal."
"That’s···."
"And now you’ve been put on trial and dragged to this land of despair again. In a situation like this, you’re just going to endure it and move on? Are you going to 'hold out' until the war ends, and when it’s over, say, 'Wow, now I’m free!' and start a life as a second-class citizen again?"
As a human, everyone is sensitive to discrimination and feels anger.
There is no one whose emotions are castrated. They just forced themselves to suppress it, resigning themselves to the fact that all of this was unavoidable.
As I continued to stimulate the emotions buried at their bottom, their mouths were closed, but their expressions and eyes were telling me.
Of course they were pissed off.
"I will teach you how to vent your anger. I said I’d provide education here, right? Weren't you curious about what it was? It’s an education on how to return to the farms you were at after the war breaks out and turn them upside down."
"···Excuse me?"
"T-turn them upside down?"
Slave rebellion, where you go straight to the gallows just for attempting it.
You could never attempt it alone, but if you’re a top-tier troublemaker who has completed professional troublemaking training at this rehabilitation center, it’s entirely possible.
Besides, you wouldn't be doing it alone; you’d have my protection and thousands of fellow 'trolls' with you, so what is there to fear?
"I will give you the opportunity to burn everything that has oppressed you so far and watch the Dixie bastards who swung whips at you go bankrupt and cry right in front of your eyes. Who wants to complete this education?"
"M-me!"
"I want to listen too!"
"Please, educate us!"
Our Dixie friends said that Black people were lazy and hated studying, so it was hard to educate them, but look at this.
Isn't this a passion for education that rivals 21st-century South Korea?
No matter how much I try to teach something, if the students aren't ready to learn, the efficiency will hit rock bottom.
But fortunately, since everyone wants to study so passionately like that.
I will make sure you all become top-tier troublemakers who will turn the South upside down.