Chapter 72
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Translator: volt
Chapter: 72
Chapter Title: Spy from a Hot Country
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"Timber!"
Whiiiiiing!!
I'm sawing through trees with a chainsaw while the others swing axes nearby or move around clearing logs.
"C-can we pass through?"
"It's fine. Everyone, keep your distance."
Soon, as the people step aside, Oittotan slowly starts up the steam tractor. True to its 'steam' engine, it takes quite a while to get going.
Kukukukung!
But after patiently waiting, it roars to life and begins to move.
It churns up the tangled roots, completely turning the soil, and the nearby laborers cheer at the powerful display before heading off to chop at other spots.
It was just an ordinary evening.
I approached Oittotan, who was struggling to turn the machine, and asked,
"How's the performance of this new work machine?"
"It's good. This plow blade seems solid enough, at least."
Good. This is already the second tractor, and the performance isn't bad.
Testing various plows suited to this soil—like moldboard plows and disk plows—is going smoothly too.
Especially the disk plow.
Thanks to introducing this plow, which wouldn't have been developed until far in the future, we were able to clear and cultivate this root-filled area in no time.
The disk plow is perfect for breaking tough, rough, tree- and rock-strewn uncleared land, which matched our situation exactly.
Even without a tractor, hitching horses to this type of plow wouldn't be bad.
This should cover a good portion of the land we'd pre-cleared with the excavator. Nodding proudly, I looked around.
It's now July 1598.
The settlement has two tractors, one grader, and one excavator overall.
Not a bad achievement. As I walked toward the excavator, which I'd paused to clear trees, I happened to glance toward the sea.
Lanterns bobbed here and there in the hands of the people patrolling the coast.
Beyond them, faint lights twinkled near the horizon like reflected stars.
They were the lanterns on fishing boats.
A few fishermen from England were out catching salmon, sea trout, and sheepshead in the area.
Thanks to them, our food shortages had eased quite a bit, but...
'Still not enough.'
We were critically short on skilled fishermen who could venture out to sea.
At least the natives lacked mass fishing techniques, so the waters were teeming with fish. Going out to the deep sea like that could cover some food needs.
Anyway.
Everyone was working hard for the community's survival. Me included, and them too.
I couldn't slack off either.
Vroom vroom vroom!
As I started moving the excavator to clear scattered lumber...
"G-gaaahhh!"
Suddenly, a scream rang out.
...What the hell?
***
The Spanish colonial empire was living through an age of glory and gold.
Its current king was Felipe II of the Habsburg dynasty.
Under this meticulous, shrewd, and detail-oriented man, the empire enjoyed endless prosperity.
The Habsburg relatives in central Europe kept up constant pressure.
The Netherlands had rebelliously risen in revolt.
France had a former Protestant convert to Catholicism and seize the throne.
And the Papal States slyly rode the waves of these tangled diplomatic relations to annoy him...
Still, a massive ship doesn't shake easily in high waves.
In truth, Philip II of Spain had achieved decent results in Europe's grand power struggles.
Under his reign, Spain defeated the Ottomans and truly became the leader of the Catholic world. Indies slaves were freed, and the shining Renaissance culture took root.
A few bankruptcies had happened, but those were minor issues. Wealth from the New World kept flowing into the empire.
...Of course, treasure is like sweet food—it attracts pests.
Flies, for instance.
Ants.
England.
But he didn't let a trivial pest like England distract him. He wouldn't make the mistake of missing the forest for the trees.
His attention remained fixed on central Europe and Italy, home of the Papal States.
"...Hmm."
He occasionally set aside time to handle piled-up paperwork on the war with England all at once.
In writing, as befitted his meticulous nature.
"Ahem..."
Lately, his complexion had somehow worsened, but... he believed it was nothing serious.
Scrape. Rustle. Scribble.
Several orders thus flowed to the Council of the Indies in Seville, then onward to the West Indies colonies, evading English eyes.
"...His Majesty's command is to devote all efforts to checking the Virginia colony. He expresses appropriate satisfaction with our achievements so far and ultimately orders us to drive out those barbaric heretics and lead the Indies peoples to the true faith."
"..."
"..."
"..."
The colonial officials who received Philip II's orders fell into contemplation.
"...Driving out the heretics."
"Means blocking the expansion of the Virginia colony itself, right?"
"To block Virginia, we need to bolster Florida, so continuing our current approach is best..."
"No, no. His Majesty said 'ultimately drive out those barbaric heretics.' We need aggressive countermeasures!"
"Hmmm..."
"Right? Does anyone here know the exact population of the Virginia colony?"
"..."
"What about the forces of that Indies Emperor?"
"..."
"None."
Looking back, information on the Virginia colony was shrouded in an eerily thick veil.
Several distant observations had revealed at least thousands of Indies people and English residents stationed there.
And with hundreds of cannons arming it thoroughly, any direct landing assault was deemed impossible.
But everything else was unknown.
Exactly how many people lived there, and how many were Indies.
What the Indies Emperor was like, how vast his empire was, whether he even existed.
What resources their land produced, how big that 'aluminum' mine was.
They knew nothing concrete.
Yes.
About a colony that size, they knew absolutely nothing.
Considering Spain had eyes and ears planted all over England... it was a chilling conclusion.
"...England knows nothing about their own colony either?"
"Strictly speaking, Virginia isn't even an English colony.
By the treaty between 'both nations,' the English only gained the right to freely operate within the Emperor's territory and purchase land."
"Still, people must come and go? Just think of Drake..."
"I hear Baron Raleigh's trading company monopolizes all trade between Virginia and England. No leaks from there."
"..."
The more they reflected, the creepier it got.
Their heads throbbed.
They knew nothing!
"Damn it, whatever we do, we need to gather intelligence first."
"We should send an expedition there at least."
"...An expedition? Spaniards would be killed on sight."
"Then what do you suggest?"
"Recruit Englishmen or other nationalities to send..."
"...Wait!"
"What is it?"
Someone shouted as if struck by a brilliant idea.
"There are people! Spaniards who can freely enter and exit Virginia!"
"Who?"
"..."
"..."
"..."
"...Slaves."
Aha.
There was a way to pierce their defenses.
"I heard most freed slaves are moved to Virginia. So we pick a few loyal ones from our freed slaves here and send them."
"How?"
"Bait them. Station spies in a few colonies, clear them out, then let English pirates raid..."
"Then... they'll plant our people in Virginia for us!"
"Brilliant idea!"
"Let's plan it now. How about placing treasure and slaves in one Hispaniola port?"
"Perfect. I'll spread the rumors. Something irresistible for greedy pirates like Drake and Raleigh."
"I'll select the people. Centered on devout Catholics."
The Spanish colonial officials sprang into action. The bureaucrats handpicked by Philip II moved like a well-oiled machine through the process.
"Look, Lord Roanoke! Doesn't the scent of money... no, freedom, already waft from here?"
"...Let's loot it first, Sir Drake."
The English fell for it beautifully.
***
Paulo, at 20, was confident he'd lived a decent life.
His parents had longed for their homeland all their lives, but Nueva España was a comfortable home to him.
His master wasn't overly harsh on slaves, and emancipation opportunities weren't tightly shut.
Even after paying his way to freedom and entering military service, Paulo had never felt any real hardship.
But after rising from slave to freeman once... an ambition for advancement he hadn't known he had began to take shape in his heart.
He wanted to get rich.
He wanted to become a landowner.
He dreamed of owning a fine mansion and estate, collecting steady rent from tenants, and enjoying a peaceful old age.
A dream he believed he could achieve someday, as he sailed the seas for years.
Opportunity knocked.
A high colonial official wanted black-skinned spies. Devout Catholics to infiltrate enemy territory.
And Paulo wanted advancement.
"Now... what do we do?"
"We're on the English ship already—no chance of getting caught now..."
"Shh."
Now, a dozen fellow spies stood before Paulo. They'd waited together in Hispaniola, 'freed' onto the English ship.
Somehow, as the one with the longest military service and oldest at 27, Paulo had become the de facto leader.
"Don't poke around unnecessarily—just stay put. And don't forget to gather at the coast at the promised time later."
"Y-yes, sir!"
After advising the rookies, he waited leisurely.
Even in the heart of enemy territory, he wasn't tense. The English treatment was good, confirming they freed slaves without cost.
"Sir Drake, here's a towel."
"Hahaha! Always grateful!"
"Not at all. For my benefactor..."
"Benefactor? Just doing what any Christian would! I've always deeply despised slavery..."
Plus, cozying up cleverly let him get close to Drake, even becoming somewhat friendly.
"Virginia... I've only heard rumors. How many people live there...?"
"Beats me?"
"..."
Of course.
"Meeting you, Sir Drake, is truly heavenly luck."
"Thank the Lord. It's thanks to Him you escaped Spanish tyranny."
"Of course. Speaking of which, how merciful must the Indies Emperor be to take in slaves like us without reason...?"
"Shhhh! D-don't mention 'Him' so lightly at sea!"
"...Pardon?"
Sir Drake was more thorough than expected.
He seemed relaxed but revealed no information on Virginia.
'A scary man after all...'
Thus, time passed aboard.
"Land ho! Virginia!"
Finally, they arrived at the long-awaited Virginia.
"Fuck yeah! Finally!"
"Aluminum time!"
The weary crew shouted in joy, as always.
'...Finally!'
Paulo smirked triumphantly.
Sir Drake was the core of the English navy. With friendship forged, he might follow him deep into Virginia, even meet the Indies Emperor...
"All freed Africans, board here!"
"Sir Drake! You come too!"
"I-I... won't. The sea's mysteries... no, never mind."
...?
What? He says he won't go, but muttered something at the end.
Coming later?
For now, Paulo disembarked with his comrades. Glancing back...
The ship... was leaving.
"..."
...???!!?
What the hell.
"Everyone, follow me! I'll guide you to your accommodations!"
Dazed, they followed an English woman for now.
Right. Now a 'freeman' here, once at lodging, he could gather intel without oversight...
"Lastly, your name?"
"...Paulo. Paulo Ramirez."
"Great. Smile!"
Click.
"..."
"..."
"Oh, nothing big—just recording your face, residence, name, age, and various info! For easy management later!"
...Already busted?
"Alright, head back to your lodging! Everyone here chose Virginia over Liberia, right?"
...Not?
Anyway.
He returned to lodging, then slipped out at evening toward the coast.
Scouting a good escape spot...
"..."
"..."
He locked eyes with someone holding a lantern.
Curly hair screamed Spaniard. The stranger asked in Spanish,
"...What are you doing here?"
"Uh... just walking..."
"Ah! Be careful! Wandering the coast alone, without a lantern—you could be suspected as a Spanish spy!"
"...Pardon?"
"Everyone's striving to protect 'Him.' Spaniards, English, French—no one sets foot on this coast..."
"English too? Isn't this English land?"
The question slipped out in panic. The man, slightly flustered, smiled and said,
"Ah, haha. Newbie, huh? Sure, you might not have seen 'Him' yet... You know nothing still."
"..."
"No one who enters this settlement can leave again.
Unless they've proven their faith."
"..."
"You'll draw suspicion alone, so since fate brought us, let's walk together. I'm Vicente Gonzalez."
"Uh... Paulo Ramirez."
"Pleased to meet you."
Step. Step. Step.
Whiiiiiing!
Kukukukung!
"Wh-what?!"
"Calm down. It's nothing."
"Th-there, a tree's falling..."
"It's nothing. Everyday here."
"..."
"You look like you're wondering, so I'll tell you: 'He' just passed by."
"Pardon? Who's 'He'?"
"..."
A strange excitement lit Vicente's face.
He spoke dreamily.
"...Our eternal leader."
"..."
Vicente's eyes lost focus.
"..."
Silence.
An eerie silence stretched on, broken by...
Rumble.
Another roar.
Rumblerumble.
What the—
In the thickening darkness afar, a bizarre silhouette emerged.
Something like a massive arm rose toward the sky.
Lifting huge trees.
"L-Lord, oh my God, what is th-that...!"
"Fear not."
"Ugh, fear what?! Th-there's a giant arm..."
Vicente, eyes still unfocused, turned and smiled at him.
"'His'... arm."
What is this place.
Scary.