Chapter 161: An Evening in the Military State
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 161: An Evening in the Military State
Following the flow of people, we soon arrived at a large factory on the outskirts of District 15. It was a Clothing Packet factory, the kind you find two or three of in every city.
The massive factory constantly swallowed people up. The current was already too strong to resist. Swept up in the stream of bodies, we too were drawn inside.
A clothing factory that processed alchemic fabric into Clothing Packets.
It was an extremely labor-intensive facility. Countless people were needed to process the alchemic fabric, and if even one stage fell behind for a moment, it would disrupt the entire line. No matter how many hands they had, it was never enough.
In other words, it was the kind of place that welcomed even one-day laborers.
“…So. You’re saying you just want to work for today?”
The supervisor overseeing the laborers frowned, looking back and forth between me and the Captain. I answered with a bright smile.
“That’s right.”
“Hmph. Waltzing in here with a woman on your arm, all carefree, and this is what you ask for…”
The supervisor grumbled, clearly annoyed but also scheming of ways to dock our pay. His attention was drawn to the Captain, who was at least decently dressed.
He eyed the Captain, trying to be discreet.
“You can’t expect a full wage for a single day’s work. You’ll get seventy percent of the usual daily pay. Hey, you, go to Rail 7 and follow the instructions there. And you, woman, you’d be perfect as a model. Go to the fitting room to try on the Clothing Packet samples.”
It shouldn’t have mattered who he picked. In fact, using an Arch-Avatar would have been better than a person. But in singling out the Captain, I could sense his personal desires.
Now, how should I respond? While I was lost in thought for a moment, the Captain shook her head without a hint of hesitation.
“I refuse.”
“Refuse? Did you just say refuse?”
“Affirmative. I am required to manage, or otherwise supervise, that man. Therefore, I cannot be separated from him for an extended period.”
The Captain stated it as if it were an undeniable truth.
Her blatant refusal clearly displeased the supervisor, who held a certain degree of power in this district.
A lowlife who comes begging for a day’s work, and she has the nerve to hold her head up high in front of me, a Level 2 citizen recognized for my abilities and appointed as a supervisor? She must not know what it means to be afraid… Wait. Not afraid?
And with that, the person who had appointed this man as supervisor had his abilities proven.
That stiff attitude. That peculiar way of speaking. Could she be? An officer?
Sensing danger, the supervisor’s mind raced.
Though it was a factory, it was still overseen by a technical officer dispatched by the Military State. And since this was a large-scale factory on the outskirts of the city, the dispatched officer’s rank would be quite high… but still, just a technical officer. A company-grade officer at best.
Compared to a company-grade technical officer, a field-grade officer of the Military State who saw direct combat was, quite literally, a strategic asset.
And he was merely a supervisor appointed by that technical officer. Nothing more than a steward entrusted with authority.
She was of a status that a mere Level 2 citizen, not even a technical officer, could never dare to challenge.
No, it can’t be… Don’t think that, you idiot! You think some ordinary person would just show up out of the blue at a time like this with such a strange request? Always assume the worst and act accordingly!
Snapping to his senses, the supervisor’s expression suddenly became much more solemn.
“In that case, it can’t be helped. I’ll assign you two together. Go to Rail 7.”
The Military State was a place where people lived, so there might be fools who didn’t know their place and misused their given authority.
But such people were usually the first to be dragged off to the labor camps.
“If you happen to possess enough mana to operate an Arch-Avatar, I will assign you to that task. Laborers with mana are valuable. Are you capable?”
“I have no experience, but I can use magic.”
“Then it should be possible. Here, channel your mana into this Arch-Avatar.”
The supervisor pointed to a mannequin-like human model—an Arch-Avatar—and made his request politely.
The Captain was a captain, after all, a mage capable of using not only Standard Magic but also her own unique magic. There was no way she couldn’t operate an Arch-Avatar.
The moment she touched it, blue lines lit up across the mannequin. Following those central lines, the alchemic fabric covering the mannequin unraveled and folded inward.
Soon, the fabric that had covered the entire body was woven and compressed into a single, small packet.
It was a swift and efficient transformation that only someone with sufficient mana could perform.
The supervisor swallowed hard.
Shit. That level of mana is on par with a decent mage.
The supervisor lifted a document to his face, pretending to scribble something down. He didn’t want the Captain to see his face right now.
“With this much skill, you can be entrusted with a whole rail. The two of you, go to Rail 11. Just say you’re taking over the avatars, and they’ll understand.”
That was a close call. No way someone who can use magic like that is a civilian. And even if she is, with that much talent, she could reach a higher level than me. Thank god I used the model excuse. If I’d pushed it…
Cold sweat trickled down the supervisor’s back.
What a smart fellow. If only my friend Anton were half as smart.
I approached him as he desperately avoided my gaze, leaned in slightly, and whispered in his ear.
“You’re a lucky man, Supervisor. You got the right answer.”
He showed no joy in knowing he was correct. He just desperately wished for us to leave.
As I left the room and closed the door, I heard the supervisor’s thoughts slip through the gap.
…I need to be more careful from now on.
The labor was simply exhausting.
Countless people stood on either side of an ordinary conveyor belt. When a sheet of alchemic fabric was placed before them, the laborers would cut or fold it according to their assigned role and pass it to the next person.
After passing through many hands and gradually taking the shape of clothing, the alchemic fabric would arrive in front of me and the Captain. I would dress the avatar with it and give the signal.
The Captain would then use her mana to turn the clothing into a packet and place it in a box.
Before long, we had packed our hundredth Clothing Packet.
Closing the lid of the box filled with packets, I wiped the sweat from my brow.
Who am I? Why am I here?
I definitely wasn’t born to do this kind of work. I graduated from playing with dolls a long, long time ago. So why am I still dressing up mannequins?
But the conveyor belt kept moving, and the work showed no signs of ending. New fabrics kept piling up before us.
Finally unable to take it anymore, I secretly called out to the Captain.
“Phew. This is pretty tough, isn’t it? How about we slack off a bit and get out of here?”
“Negative. This is sufficiently tolerable.”
But the Captain showed no signs of fatigue.
No, even if she was tired, her eyes were sparkling as she focused even more intently on her task.
This is rewarding. It is far better than sitting still in the Windowless Room, connected to a golem. Every time I complete my mission and fill a box, the meaning of this work is steadily reaffirmed.
Ah, I hadn’t thought of that.
The Captain was a signaller who had endured labor more grueling than any factory, all by herself.
What’s more, though she never showed it, she possessed enough mana to continuously sync with a synchro-type golem for a full day. The Military State treated her strangely, but she was an elite in her own right.
One hundred! What else have I ever stacked a hundred of, besides cans of compressed beans! I am a person capable of making one hundred of something!
Military State, I don’t know if you were trying to protect the Captain or just use her, but I know one thing.
You’re the bad guys here.
With a sigh, I went back to work.
And so, after a tedious stretch of time that seemed to drag on forever…
“Avatar team, work’s over. You can all head home now!”
When the supervisor shouted, the laborers working on the avatars looked at him in confusion.
“Isn’t this an hour earlier than usual? We can still squeeze out a bit more…”
When I tell you to leave early, you should just be grateful and go! Why are you questioning it? There’s an officer here, an officer! I have to let the officer leave first, don’t I?
Though his inner thoughts were completely different, the supervisor replied calmly.
“The mana is thin today. We’ve met our quota thanks to the new guy, and it would be a problem if you mana-users collapsed. So, we’re ending the shift a little early today.”
“Since when did you ever care about that?”
“Shut it!”
“Even so, if we leave now, our pay will be…”
“I’ll pay you for the full day!”
“Thank you! Have a good evening!”
The laborers, having gained a precious hour of freedom, flooded out like an ebbing tide.
That supervisor is a sharp one.
Contrary to his assumption, we were just here for fun, but there was no need to tell him that.
I called out to the Captain, who was still engrossed in compressing packets. She glanced regretfully at the box she hadn’t quite filled.
“It is a shame. This was an opportunity to reach five hundred. A once-in-a-lifetime achievement for me…”
I’ll say it again: Military State, you’re the bad guys.
The sun, which had been high in the sky, was now beginning to set. With our newfound free time, we collected our pay and left the factory.
Considering that day laborers were often short-changed, the supervisor had been quite generous with our wages. It was double what a normal laborer would get, but since we had exceeded the quota thanks to the Captain, it wasn’t an excessive amount.
Feeling a newfound pride in money she had earned with her own hands, the Captain walked with a spring in her step, clutching the Alchemic Gold to her chest. She wasn’t aware of it, but her golden hair and skirt bounced lightly with every step.
“Is this the first time you’ve earned money? Why are you so happy?”
“This is the first time I have received my salary this way. So this is the weight of money…”
“Ah, right. Soldiers get their pay issued all at once from the Department of Veterans’ Affairs, don’t they?”
“Affirmative. During my service to the military, I have had no occasion to spend my salary separately…”
Because of alchemy, no currency other than Alchemic Gold could exist in this world.
In the face of alchemy that could replicate even gold, things like paper money or promissory notes were worthless.
It was only because the Military State held the entire nation’s administration in its hands that it could issue salaries from the Department of Veterans’ Affairs in the form of notes or alchemic currency. The neighboring Fallen Dominion, on the other hand, had executed every last one of their alchemists, and their economy still collapsed, tearing the nation to shreds.
“Come to think of it, you were a captain, weren’t you, Bbey?”
“Negative. Not ‘were.’ I am definitively a captain.”
“If you’ve been saving your money without spending it, you must have quite a lot saved up.”
“Affirmative.”
“What do you want to do with that money? Is there anything you want to achieve?”
Perhaps because it was money earned through her own sweat, it felt more real.
The Captain, holding today’s wages dearly, pondered my question seriously.
I am a Level 3 citizen. I have the right to inherit, but I have no property to receive, nor can I leave any property to future generations. In the first place, there is no one to leave it to. When I die, all my assets will be incinerated.
Ooh. So her thoughts have finally reached that point.
Is she going to show it now?
Life is resistance. It is a fight to protect and maintain my own small, fragile microcosm against a harsh and threatening outside world.
When a living being is about to truly lose something, they have no choice but to resist.
The money the military authorities paid me will just be incinerated and returned to the State anyway, so it’s no great loss. If that money could achieve something better, if it could go to others who rejoiced in small bits of luck…
But it seemed the signaller knew nothing of the sort.
You guys were really, really bad.
They say third time’s the charm, but if you’re this bad, isn’t it about time you were destroyed?
At least I am fortunate to be registered at the facility where I grew up. If I die in the line of duty, compensation will be paid. It’s not much of an inheritance, but it will be my… final gift to my younger siblings.
Soldiers are encouraged to marry.
The reason, simply put, is property.
If you don’t spend it, your assets accumulate. And when you die? They are incinerated.
You can’t just go to the Department of Veterans’ Affairs, request a lump-sum payment, and stash it somewhere. If you’re caught, it’s off to the labor camps.
A family is essential, if only to spend the salary you earn right away. The Department of Veterans’ Affairs doesn’t prevent family members from collecting pay on a soldier’s behalf.
That’s why many soldiers started families at a young age.
What if you start a family and then die, unable to take responsibility? No need to worry.
There might not be an inheritance, but death benefits are paid out.
An amount greater than most inheritances.
A soldier, forced to think about what comes after death, pours all their energy into leaving a family behind.
Thinking about it now, it is a little regrettable. If I had married, could I have left a little more behind?
Still, at the very least, it had brought about a positive change.
The act of leaving something behind.
The minimal desire of one who has accepted their eventual death.
The Captain savored the earnest desire blooming unknowingly in her heart, hugged the pittance in the envelope tightly, and answered.
“…That’s classified.”
I didn’t ask any further. This was enough for today.
And so, we were walking back through the streets as evening began to fall.
A corner of the market was in an uproar. The corner, which should have been a boisterous mix of various voices, was today filled only with a confused murmur.
The gathered crowd looked around as if asking for help, then suddenly spotted me and shouted.
“Hey! Hughes! Something terrible has happened!”
Having read their minds, I knew what had happened half a beat faster, but for once, my mind-reading was of little help.
“Anna’s been beaten to a pulp…!”
Because the truth was revealed in an instant, without any need for mind-reading.
Pushing through the crowd, we found Anna collapsed on the ground, her face and arms covered in bruises.
Anna, who had always been so tough and resilient, was now lying there with a face as pale as a critical patient’s.
I let the Captain go as she rushed forward, her expression changing. I looked at Anna, who seemed to have fainted, and scratched my head.
Wow.
Things really went to shit while I was gone.
Anyway, who’s going to make dinner?
I was looking forward to it.