The Unstoppable Momentum of My Success (2)
"Listen closely. First and foremost, you, the first batch of trainees, must complete your education perfectly. Then, you must lend your strength to teaching the second and third batches that will follow."
My political education officers would put in the effort, but in the end, they were still slaves under my command. While they were capable, the first batch of trainees was far better suited to forming a bond with the newcomers.
If they could adapt quickly, the future schedule would gain momentum, and I would be able to cultivate even more agents.
"Master! Then when will the second batch of trainees arrive?"
"That will naturally be adjusted based on your progress in your training."
Even at this very moment, in the North, the marshals were busy enforcing the Fugitive Slave Act, rounding up runaway slaves. However, the Rehabilitation Center was, in restaurant terms, still in its 'soft opening' phase, and there were still many who doubted its efficacy.
Of course, there were an overwhelming number of people who believed in me, but that was a matter of trust, not absolute certainty.
I needed to solidify the legend of 'Slave Master Sett' into an undeniable fact, to the point where everyone would beg me to take even one more Black person into the Rehabilitation Center.
"Therefore, you must complete my training more thoroughly than anyone else, while simultaneously appearing as the most submissive slaves to the outside world. Understand this and apply yourselves to your future tasks."
"Yes! Master!"
"If I could just burn that bastard's plantation to the ground, I'd lick his feet like a dog!"
"Just pretend to lick them. You'll get an upset stomach if you lick something dirty."
"Yes, sir! I'll only pretend to lick them!"
Eyes burning with rage and a desire for revenge, welling up from the depths of their hearts. That was it. That gaze was exactly what I wanted to instill first in the talents who would eventually turn the South upside down.
Despair and helplessness make people collapse, but anger with a clear goal makes people move.
"Good. Now, let's begin the real training."
I signaled to Will. From here on out, it was the time for the elite political education officer.
"Everyone is learning to read, right? Good. Today, we're learning how to read maps."
As Will unfurled a massive map of the Mississippi River basin, murmurs erupted here and there.
"Why are we learning maps?"
Someone asked, not out of suspicion, but with a tone of genuine confusion.
"Why? That's a good question. It’s so you can know the zones you will manage in the future. Where the river flows, where the hills are, and which path leads to your destination the fastest. Knowing the land is the most basic of basics if you want to farm."
It was a plausible excuse. But what they were learning was not a simple agricultural map. Road networks, the locations of bridges, the distribution of forests and swamps, and even how to navigate using the constellations at night.
This was closer to what a soldier should learn, not a farmer. And naturally, these were things the slaves on my plantation had already mastered.
"Next is arithmetic. Leo, you take over."
Leo stepped forward silently and clumsily wrote numbers on the slate.
"Now, there are 100 bushels of corn in this warehouse. If 50 people are to eat this for a month, how many pounds should be rationed per day? And if rats eat 10% of it, what is the actual ration?"
It looked like a simple calculation problem, but the core was instilling the basic knowledge to manage resources and calculate loss rates. And the ultimate goal was to understand the concepts of 'fixed rationing' and 'securing reserves.'
It was a subtle way of teaching them what they needed to seize first when they eventually returned to their respective 'zones.'
"Afterward, in the afternoon, we have group practicals. Overseer Jonathan and Henry will lead. Today, it's farm tool repair and maintenance. Especially that cotton gin over there. It’s a headache if that thing breaks, so learn its structure thoroughly. Where it’s weak, and where you need to be careful."
Repairing farm tools. This, too, was perfectly natural training. But they were learning not just about plows or sickles, but the structure and operating principles of complex machinery, and even their decisive vulnerabilities.
How to stop them from working without making it obvious. They were finishing their preparations to become masters of sabotage, learning one thing at a time.
The trainees, who had initially followed along reluctantly amidst suspicion and confusion, were now all participating actively. Hoping for the day they could put this knowledge to use, they became even more enthusiastic about their farm work.
Nick's change was particularly noticeable. He still asked sharp questions, but the direction of his inquiries had changed completely.
"Instructor Will. Looking at the map, this point seems to have the shallowest water and the slowest current for crossing the river at night. Is that correct?"
"Oh, a good interpretation. But on moonless nights, you must be careful of the patrol boats hiding in the reeds over there. Wind direction is also important."
"Instructor Ben. If a fire were to break out in the warehouse, the smoke would spread fastest through that vent, right?"
"You've got a sharp eye. That's why in an emergency, you have to block that vent first... haha, of course, you shouldn't think about starting a fire in the first place, but we're just assuming a fire occurs."
"Of course."
"Hahahaha!"
Their eyes were now beginning to shine with the intelligence that only those who are planning and preparing for something beyond simple survival instincts could possess.
I watched them with satisfaction. It was faster than expected. The fuel of hatred was a much more powerful engine than I had thought.
Since all the trainees had become this cooperative, I felt it was time to move to the next stage.
"Leo. Send telegrams to the major legislators of each Southern state. Tell them they are cordially invited to the 'Sett Rehabilitation Center 1st Batch Training Achievement Demonstration'."
"Already, Master?"
"Yes. A hundred explanations are not worth a single demonstration. I need to show them directly how 'wonderfully reformed' these people are so that the entire South will feel the necessity of this Rehabilitation Center in their bones."
In any case, they would be desperate to come, so there was no need to prepare a grand welcoming ceremony.
As expected, the invitations sparked an explosive reaction.
"Finally! Sett is going to show us the results?"
"I'm curious to see how much those notorious runaway slaves from the North have changed!"
"If this succeeds, we might finally get some breathing room... please!"
Influential politicians from all over the South—not just Mississippi, but Virginia, Carolina, Georgia, and beyond—rushed to express their intention to attend. They were all waiting for the date of the demonstration with eyes full of mixed anticipation and anxiety, wondering what kind of magic James Sett had performed in such a short time.
Requests flooded in to skip all the trivial events like protocol or welcoming ceremonies and just confirm the results first. And as they wished, I threw open the doors of the Rehabilitation Center.
***
On the day of the scheduled demonstration, the grounds of the Sett Rehabilitation Center were bustling with carriages and people who had flocked from all over the South.
It wasn't just legislators who had come. Planters who had heard the rumors, journalists, and even curious local notables were there. In their eyes, anticipation, suspicion, and a deep anxiety regarding the Arrow of Freedom were all mixed together.
"Haha, it's even more complete than when I saw it last time. To build a facility of this scale so quickly."
Congressman Toombs exclaimed, looking around the central plaza that had just begun to reveal its outline. Beside him, the original owners of the first batch of trainees stood with anxious faces. They rushed to pour out their grievances to the gathered legislators.
"Congressman, it's about my slave, Nick. He was strong as an ox, but he was so rebellious... there wasn't a day his whip marks were dry. Even when I forced him to work, his efficiency was at rock bottom."
"That woman, Jenny, is even worse! Her eyes were so insolent that she'd try to incite other slaves at every opportunity! She was completely ruined after getting a taste of the North!"
Their complaints were all similar. The slaves who returned from the North were all uncontrollable troublemakers who lowered productivity and ruined the atmosphere of the entire plantation. Naturally, they didn't have high expectations for James Sett's education either.
"Honestly, I don't ask for much else. If he can just break that rebellious spirit, I'll be satisfied."
"That's right. If he can just make sure they don't influence the other slaves, I couldn't ask for more."
Great expectations often lead to great disappointment. The planters tried to suppress their expectations so they wouldn't be disappointed, and stepped inside. And there, in the distance, the temporary master of this Rehabilitation Center, James Sett, stood before them, accompanied by Leo.
"Congressmen, and planters, thank you for coming such a long way."
All eyes were fixed on him. Accustomed to standing before such big shots, James leisurely pointed with a gesture toward a massive bulletin board set up on one side of the plaza.
"As you can see, improvements here are being made every single day."
On the board, the 'Food Production Efficiency Change Trend' recorded daily since the opening of the Rehabilitation Center was drawn as a graph. The figures, which had been scraping the bottom for the first few days, had risen steeply in just a few weeks, now exceeding the average of ordinary plantations. Data does not lie.
"That's not all. Look over there."
He continued, pointing to the additional dormitory area under construction. Surprisingly, the Black people there were carrying bricks and trimming lumber under the direction of white technicians. In their faces, one could glimpse not the pain of forced labor, but the seriousness of skilled technicians.
"Th-those guys are even doing construction work?"
"They're working like that without a word?"
Gasps of astonishment erupted from the legislators and planters. They hadn't known that slaves were being mobilized for construction—even if it wasn't voluntary, they hadn't expected them to work without complaint.
"The system here is different. It is not through coercion, but through 'character reform' and 'education' that we make them move on their own. Now, I will show you the results directly."
When James snapped his fingers, Leo stepped away for a moment and returned with two Black people. One was a man with a sturdy physique, Nick. The other was a woman with sharp eyes, Jenny. Both were troublemakers who had been caught after resisting most viciously in the North.
Yet, as soon as Nick and Jenny stood before James, they knelt without a moment's hesitation and bowed their heads deeply.
"Master. Did you call for us?"
"You have arrived, Mr. Sett."
Their voices were surprisingly polite, and their attitude was the very definition of perfect obedience. It was a posture of perfect submission that could be considered a textbook for slaves. Most surprising of all was the look in their eyes. Instead of anger or hatred, one could feel a strange heat, as if they were longing for something.
Sure enough, when James lightly stroked Jenny's hair, she beamed with a bright smile and rubbed her cheek against his hand.
"H-huh..."
"Th-that girl is acting like that toward her master..."
It didn't end there; James called Nick and Jenny's original owners forward. The two planters stared at them with suspicious eyes, wondering if these were really the slaves who had been under them.
"Nick, Jenny. Do you have anything to say to your masters?"
No sooner had he finished speaking than the two turned their bodies toward their original masters, knelt, and bowed their heads deeply.
"Master, I was foolish. I was deceived by empty dreams in the North and abandoned your grace. Please, forgive me."
I don't know where they learned it, but the posture of kneeling and burying their foreheads into the ground was very impressive. Jenny, who had always glared at her original master with sharp eyes, kissed his feet and said in an affectionate voice:
"I will learn more from Mr. Sett here and return, and in the future, I will serve you faithfully. I swear it."
"Uh... uh-huh, y-yes."
It is the virtue of a planter to treat slaves according to their merit if they offer sincere loyalty. The original owners, having seen the sincere apology and oath before their eyes, nodded, yet looked at James, who had created this entire scene, with eyes full of awe.
"My goodness... is this really my slave, Nick?"
"Jenny... becoming so docile. Was this girl capable of acting so coy?"
Even if it were acting, if you could make them act to this extent, wasn't it the realm of sincerity? James Sett—this man might have been born with the supernatural ability to manipulate the hearts of Black people.
The legislators could no longer hold back, clapping and bursting into laughter.
"Hahahaha! As expected of James Sett!"
"I believed in you! Our judgment in trusting you was correct!"
"Since the facility expansion is also proceeding quickly, there's no need to hesitate any longer. We'll send the 2nd and 3rd batches of trainees right away. James Sett, you are indeed the only one who can be the master of this Rehabilitation Center!"
Perhaps it was because my success never ceased. Following the first batch, the entry of 217 additional trainees was confirmed. Words like anxiety or worry had vanished from their minds as of today.