Chapter 55: The Tin Knight and The City of Clockwork — Act 2 (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 55: The Tin Knight and The City of Clockwork — Act 2 (4)
There are many stories in the world about people being possessed by ghosts.
The protagonists in these tales share a few similar traits, one of which is that many are in a psychologically fragile state.
Be it extreme stress, the fatigue of a grueling daily life, or the anger and frustration from personal relationships—it is when one is ‘struggling’ in various ways that they are most susceptible to possession.
And in this world, there exists a potent concoction that can render even a sound mind unsound. Yet, sharing it with others doesn't lead to scorn or arrest; instead, it brings thanks and praise. This liquid is called alcohol. (Cases where it's forced upon you at a company dinner are excluded.)
Thus, the witch declared.
“First, we get them drunk until they're out of it, and then we have the spirits do the actual work. The bodies of healthy newcomers, the skills of seasoned craftsmen.”
It was a wicked plan to borrow their bodies without their consent, but Dorothea paid it no mind.
She reasoned that it was a win-win-win situation: the workers would eat well, drink well, and earn money without any difficult memories; the spirits would get to experience the world through living bodies for the first time in a long while; and Dorothea would achieve her goal.
It was fortunate that Dorothea's greed wasn't particularly strong.
Otherwise, a heartless, villainous capitalist of the century might have been born.
[The ‘Tin Knight’ points out that it costs a lot of money and the preparation is cumbersome!]
[The ‘Tin Knight’ wonders why she can't just raise skeletons and make them work!]
“Hah.”
At the Tin Knight's words, Dorothea sighed overtly and shook her head.
“How are a bunch of bones supposed to do precision work? You're just bones, can you even move?”
The Tin Knight, for once, found himself at a loss for words.
Uh, she has a point, but is it okay for a necromancer to say that? Isn't she denying some fundamental law of the world? he thought.
“The 'army of the dead' that people usually imagine when they hear 'necromancer' is surprisingly inefficient. It'd be a different story if they were freshly dead with muscles and all still intact, but if they're just bones, what do you think moves them? It's all mana.”
[The ‘Tin Knight’ asks if a skeleton swarm tactic is impossible then!]
“If you're asking whether it's possible or impossible, it's not impossible. Spirits filled with intense negative emotions like grudges emit mana on their own, so it's less of a burden on the necromancer. But those types are full of hostility towards the living, and they radiate curses just by existing. Try doing construction with them. The day after moving in, the residents would either be carried out sick and broken or become new earth-bound spirits themselves.”
“Besides,” Dorothea continued.
“This isn't some remote mountain village. You want to use skeletons for construction in the middle of the city? You want fully armed guards showing up for a subjugation mission ten minutes after we start? Even if we somehow got past that, the rumors would spread like wildfire, and our grand opening would be a bust with nothing but flies buzzing around. Most importantly, my image would be ruined. Absolutely not.”
No matter how you looked at it, everything she said before was just an excuse; the real issue was her image.
The Tin Knight didn't ask why a young lady so concerned with others' opinions would dress the way she did.
There was nothing crueler than mercilessly criticizing a fashion sense that she, for her part, considered ‘cool’.
And frankly, her current attire was much more pleasing to the eye than if she were all bundled up. How could anyone resist the fashion of a villainous female executive?
“So, just hiring people and having spirits possess them is the most efficient and stable method. We don't have to worry about what others think, either.”
[The ‘Tin Knight’ asks if there are any side effects!]
“They'll probably suffer the side effects of spirit possession and a rapid drain of stamina and energy from performing beyond their natural abilities. But that's why I fed them well. I put plenty of specially formulated herbs in their food, so they'll be fine for about a week. Any longer than that, and there might be aftereffects.”
Dorothea and the Tin Knight looked ahead.
With expert craftsmen—any one of whom could dominate a worksite on their own—working nonstop, fueled by a sense of competition, the workshop was taking shape at a terrifying speed.
It was a truly satisfying and rewarding scene of labor, filling one with pride just by watching.
However, if Dorothea had one complaint…
“Hoo-hoo. So this is another way necromancy can be used. How fascinating, how fascinating.”
“Hey.”
“My name is not 'Hey,' it's Gale, Dorothea.”
“I don't care about that. Why are you squatting here?”
In response to Dorothea's words, Gale took a sip of her tea with a slurp.
In her hand was a long, cylindrical cup, its surface engraved with various strange characters.
As if interpreting Dorothea's gaze, Gale shook the cup in her hand.
“Shall I make one for you? It's quite convenient, as it has the effect of preserving the temperature of the liquid inside.”
At Gale's words, the Tin Knight jumped in surprise.
[The ‘Tin Knight’ is horrified that a tumbler exists here!]
[The ‘Tin Knight’ raises an objection regarding the period setting!]
Gale didn't hear the Tin Knight's fuss, and Dorothea, as usual, lightly ignored it.
“I don't need it.”
“It's a gift of friendship, so I won't ask for payment.”
“Stop changing the subject and just answer why you're here.”
“Because I'm just as interested in the Geppetto siblings' skills as you are.”
Gale flicked her wrist and gestured with her chin, surveying the surrounding city.
Dorothea's eyes narrowed.
This girl named Gale Elilaz looked like a fairy-tale princess, yet her actions were strangely common.
To put it nicely, she was informal and friendly. To look at her more cynically, she was like a street ruffian.
She was a stark contrast to Franka Aglaia, who looked and acted like a spoiled rich girl.
Whether she knew what Dorothea was thinking or not, Gale began to spill the details without being asked.
“One of the reasons I came here in the first place was because I saw a magic doll made by Pollen Geppetto during his lifetime. It was such a fine piece of work, it was hard to believe it was made by a doll maker from the Empire.”
It was a blatantly regionalistic remark, but Dorothea didn't particularly mind.
After all, it was a well-known fact that the Empire's magic doll technology was inferior to that of the Magic State.
“Aren't you a little late to the party? That old man died over a decade ago.”
“Still, I thought there might be something left in the same city. But the result was the worst. People with the skills of a mere apprentice were strutting around calling themselves masters. The only ones worth a look were those siblings, and even they couldn't show their true skills because of their working conditions. So what could I do? I had to create an environment worthy of their talent. I was originally going to return Pollen's workshop to them, but the current owner turned out to be a bigger piece of trash than I expected!”
Gale pointed a finger at Dorothea with the hand that wasn't holding the long, cylindrical cup—or ‘tumbler,’ to use the Tin Knight's term.
Just as Dorothea felt a violent urge to just snap that finger off, Gale continued speaking.
“And in the midst of that, Dorothea, I saw what you were doing. It's a good strategy. A fine plan. It's only natural to prefer the new model over the old one. If it doesn't exist, make it new. I've decided to gladly join in.”
“Who said you could join? You keep sticking to me like we're friends or something, but I don't have the slightest intention of getting friendly with you, so get lost.”
“There's no need to be so shy.”
Dorothea thought.
Should I just fight her? I don't know if she has one of the kingdom's sacred treasures right now, but if I get rid of her, I'll eliminate a competitor. Wouldn't that be beneficial in the long run?
[The ‘Tin Knight’ shouts, “Just give the order, Commander!”]
Ironically, what quelled Dorothea's fighting spirit was the sight of the Tin Knight beside her, looking as if he were just waiting for the call to action.
As a rational and intelligent witch, the self-restraint that she couldn't stoop to the same level as that madman held her back.
“Besides, just as you were commissioned by the brother, I was commissioned by the sister. Doesn't that make us equals in terms of qualification?”
“What good are qualifications without results? I'm the one building the entire workshop.”
“The building, maybe, but there's a limit to what you can procure for the workshop's equipment with your current method. To make tool A, you need part B, and to make part B, you need facility C. No matter how well the spirits remember their skills from when they were alive, it's difficult to get everything you need with that alone.”
“That,” Gale said, placing a hand on her chest, “is where my rune magic gets a chance to shine. I might be a little lacking compared to a professional alchemist, but I have some expertise in this field myself. In other words, with me here, we can create better equipment. The workshop's quality will improve, which means your dolls and my Sig can get better maintenance. Isn't this mutually beneficial?”
“…”
As if to show Dorothea's deliberation, the furrow between her brows deepened.
*
Charles Stromboli could not understand the current situation.
“Didn't I specifically tell you to contact all our associates?”
“Yes, Master. We did.”
“Then which one of those bastards dared to ignore my words and side with them?”
“No, Master. Not a single one of the skilled craftsmen ignored your word. The ones mobilized for that construction are all drifters with no proper skills or jobs.”
“Is that so? Then tell me.”
On a hill overlooking the northwest of the city, Charles pointed an accusing finger at the new workshop under construction in its center, the veins on his neck bulging.
“How is that building being constructed so perfectly?! And in just one day, the exterior is already nearly complete!”
Strictly speaking, it had been a day and a half, not just one day, but no one was about to point that out to a boss who was not only ill-tempered by nature but also visibly in a foul mood.
“W-well, it seems they've divided about twenty workers into three teams and are making them work nonstop, 24 hours a day.”
“No, that's not it. That reason alone can't explain this work speed!”
In the mind of the villainous capitalist Charles, workers were inherently lazy creatures.
Pay them for eight hours of work? The hired laborer doesn't work their fingers to the bone for eight hours; they work while furtively glancing around.
Since they get paid as long as they put in eight hours, there's no reason to go out of their way to work hard.
The wise (in his own opinion) Charles would keep an eye on such people and either kick them out, claiming he had no money to give them since they didn't work properly, or he would increase work efficiency by assigning supervisors to provide continuous motivation (which the public called verbal abuse, violence, and threats). But even using such ‘sophisticated’ techniques, that work speed was impossible.
Even more so if it was just a gathering of amateurs with no proper skills, not even skilled craftsmen!
“They weren't simple drifters. They possessed excellent skills but were deliberately acting incompetent…!”
Charles shuddered.
What if what he had considered the last desperate struggle of back-alley beggars was, in fact, part of a grand plan?
What if those bastards had been preparing for this very moment for years?
“Yes, for the city's best craftsman, Pollen had far too little wealth. He must have hidden his fortune somewhere, and that bastard Smith found it. Dammit, so he was secretly building up his forces all this time while pretending to be a beggar? That insidious bastard!”
It was a delusion so grand that if Smith had heard it, he would have asked if Charles had been on drugs.
“You think I'll go down that easily? A rather audacious move, I'll admit, but I'll show you that this industry is ultimately a battle of capital!”
Charles's eyes glinted as he ordered his subordinates.
“Those drifters hired over there—no, those masters hiding their skills. Hire every single one of them for our company. You can offer them the best treatment. No, give them whatever they ask for. Their loyalty or friendship must be quite strong, so they won't yield easily.”
“If we try to bring all of them over with such treatment, it will consume a significant amount of capital…”
“These are people who not only have outstanding abilities but also the thoroughness to deceive those around them for a long time. This is where you make an investment. Stop talking and do it now!”
Charles let out an insidious laugh.
“I can't wait to see the look on your face when the connections you've secretly nurtured for nearly a decade are stolen right from under your nose! Hahahahaha!”
*
The worker Dolton and his colleagues clinked their cups and shouted.
“To another energetic day, cheers!!”
“Cheers!!”