Chapter 30
Chapter 30
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 30
Chapter Title: Bread and Circus
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Truthfully, a circus using disabled people was inevitably tinged with the nature of a 'freak show'.
Freak show.
Translated literally, a human zoo.
It involved gathering freakishly deformed infants, disabled people, natives, and the like, and turning them into spectacles for viewing.
To heighten interest, they would perform acrobatics,
or cover ordinary people's bodies with tattoos or piercings to deliberately make them bizarre.
In this world, it wasn't exactly trendy, but it was a culture you could see fairly often without it being rare.
After all, making fools of the deficient wasn't such a novel idea.
"But if it's just for gawking, it can't be called 'special.' Something anyone can do wouldn't make money either. If it's merely beasts trapped in cages to look at, people might come out of curiosity once, but they wouldn't come back a second time."
"So you brought in a traveling acrobatic troupe to teach the slaves acrobatics."
"Exactly. Though it's not like we only taught them acrobatics."
The slaves had learned truly so many things.
Acrobatics, singing, etiquette, acting, and ways to utilize their congenitally deformed bodies.
But impressive as these were, they weren't special.
To draw people into a world of fantasy, they were still a bit lacking.
That's where the conman came in.
A showman was needed who could create illusions using staging, marketing, tricks, and all sorts of techniques.
Someone who could spread rumors about giants, dwarves, all sorts of monsters,
craft intriguing stories about them,
and prepare staging convincing enough to sell it all.
"So, a circus is a freak show elevated into a performance by adding acrobatics, storytelling, and staging."
"Perfect. You're good at summarizing."
"Thank you."
"It does sound intriguing. Far more enjoyable than watching condemned criminals or wild beasts. Unlike theater, which has constraints on staging due to its structure, this kind of show has no limits on production, so it'd be a treat to watch."
Torsso nodded, picturing something in his mind.
I didn't know what he was imagining...
But one thing I was certain of.
Whatever it was,
he'd see something beyond it.
"At the very least, the dopamine will flow for sure."
"What's dopamine?"
"Ah... You don't know, huh..."
Dopamine.
Truthfully, in this world, spectacles capable of producing 'dopamine' weren't all that common.
At best, executions or the arena?
Even those weren't particularly entertaining.
Dopamine boosted by cruelty had its limits,
and once the cruelty exceeded a certain level, physiological disgust and mental fatigue only grew stronger.
Honestly, it was hard to watch.
No need to even bring up modern sensibilities.
Getting excited by blood and then exhausted was in the realm of biological instinct anyway.
"Simply put, it's something you can immerse yourself in comfortably for fun and excitement."
"Fun and excitement..."
"That's ultimately what people expect from a show. They immerse in the fantasy, fall for the lies, accept it all without hesitation—all to maximize fun and excitement. In that sense, circuses have no substitutes."
To the people of this world who had never experienced modern dopamine,
it was like spreading the most dazzling form of entertainment that had dominated a continent until the advent of color TV.
At least in terms of 'cultural life,' there was an overwhelming gap between my previous life's Earth and this world.
Theater and circuses had different appeals,
and too radical a change might provoke rejection rather than favor,
but ultimately, humans were slaves to dopamine all the same.
A circus was the only means to supply proper dopamine.
"I'm going to monopolize culture."
"Monopolizing culture... Hm. I don't quite grasp the meaning."
The term 'culture' came to mean 'cultural industry' after the birth of show business.
Naturally, the concept of a 'cultural industry' didn't exist in this world yet.
Culture.
In the broad sense, it meant a society's overall lifestyle,
and in the narrow sense, refinement and the arts.
So the very idea of monopolizing it was impossible.
"But... the word 'monopoly' does make the heart race."
"Right?"
"I'm looking forward to it. Very much."
It's said that what moves people is bread and circuses.
Bread can't be monopolized.
So to truly change the world, we must at least monopolize the circuses.
This was a 'profitable' business.
And it was also a business for achieving my goals later on.
"Only those who change the world can make big money..."
The cultural industry could change people's perceptions.
Little by little, seeping into daily life, uprooting society's views from the ground up—that was the power of culture.
People empty their minds and dive into culture,
idolize its creators as 'stars,'
and eventually come to love them.
Therefore,
making disabled people and slaves the center of cultural life through circuses
meant people would develop favorable feelings toward them.
Even if only a few people's views changed, that was fine.
If just a handful of children became obsessed with the circus, that would suffice.
As long as a small crack formed in society's perceptions, it would provide all the justification needed later to emancipate the slaves.
Ultimately, the positives and negatives of slavery were political issues to resolve,
and politics was about capturing hearts, wasn't it?
I'd buy hearts with money,
earn money with those hearts,
and use that money and those hearts to buy the slaves' human rights.
"Oh, right. We'll pay the circus slaves talants based on their performances in the circus. Set the criteria in advance."
"Yes, understood."
On top of that, the circus could serve as a means for the slaves to become self-sufficient once emancipated.
Even if freed from being circus slaves,
the acrobatics and skills ingrained in their bodies wouldn't vanish.
At that point, they'd work in the circus not as slaves, but as free people.
Moreover, this change wouldn't just affect slaves.
Other deformed infants born with disabilities
could learn skills in the circus instead of being discarded, and make a living.
'...It'll work out.'
Plans for slaves' emancipation
had to be built on foundations for their self-reliance.
If emancipated slaves couldn't sustain their own lives,
they'd end up putting collars around their own necks,
selling their freedom for bread and gruel.
I didn't want such a powerless ending.
"Ah. And tell Bishop Dori to arrange a priest to baptize the new slaves."
"Understood."
"You've all ingrained the etiquette, right?"
"Y-Yes! B-But, is it really okay for us to wear these clothes?"
People dressed in garments flamboyant enough for high nobility
glanced around anxiously.
No.
'Monsters' was a better fit than 'people'.
Some had two heads,
some were as massive as two people combined,
some were dwarfishly small,
and some had arms so long they reached their feet just standing still.
Defective goods.
They were the circus slaves, dressed in splendid noble attire.
"They suit you better than I expected."
"......"
"The clothes are made by House Riddle's exclusive tailor, so the craftsmanship is top-notch. If I'd known they'd look this good, I should've had my own suit made by him too. Haha."
The conman with the cane tipped his hat brim slightly as he looked at the slaves.
A satisfied smile played on his lips.
He had prepared extensively for this day.
"Um, troupe leader..."
"But I don't like those expressions. Didn't you learn in etiquette class? Smile confidently. Half of etiquette comes from attitude and self-assurance."
The conman swung his cane to point at the slave's face.
The slave flinched as the cane approached,
gazed at it halting just before her lips,
then forced a smile.
"Much better. Now, what did you say?"
"...If we wear these clothes, won't the nobles dislike it?"
"That's the core of the show. Shock them. Flip their expectations. Show them something utterly unexpected."
"......"
"But there's a limit to what appearances alone can convey. Ultimately, this show's success rests on you. Use every bit of the etiquette and acting you've learned. Act like the greatest hero, the noblest noble, the most dignified free citizen."
"......"
"I believe in you. I hope you'll reward that belief."
"...Understood."
At those words of belief, the slaves' trembling stopped.
A conman was skilled at making people believe.
"Now. Today is your débutante."
Débutante.
The term for a woman's entry into high society was the operation name for this plan.
The plan's content was simple.
Thrust these slaves into the heart of noble society.
And then,
when the chaos peaks, run away!
"Make a splendid debut. Capture hearts. Introduce yourselves perfectly, collect all the mockery and curiosity from the crowds, and return. A woman who fails to leave mystery behind has failed her debut—so make everyone curious about you."
And so, the world's first noise marketing began.