Swiftly
Karl Lenaro and the Labor Theorists silently looked out at the outskirts of the city.
They watched the scene of the sick receiving free treatment while the smell of roasting meat wafted through the air. Even the most hot-tempered and radical Labor Theorists did not utter a single word in this moment.
"Thank you. Thank you! Saint!!"
"Peace be with you."
The Saint was frantically tending to the sick.
As if very familiar with this situation, the clergy of the Order of Grace took the lightly injured to treat them themselves, and only brought patients who could not be cured by ordinary miracles or holy power—such as those with severe injuries or hereditary diseases—to the Saint.
Thanks to this incredibly efficient field hospital system, countless patients were walking out of the hospital in real-time, shedding tears of joy as their bodies recovered.
"I want to believe in Goddess Lilia. Priest."
"Please give me a scripture as well."
"I wish to follow the Saint's teachings from now on. Please give me a scripture too!"
The members of the Order of Grace engaged in no proselytizing activities whatsoever, yet an enormous number of new converts were already being born due to their near-self-sacrificial healing work that cut into their own meals and sleep.
"Religion is the opiate of the workers."
When one Labor Theorist muttered this, Karl Lenaro snorted in amusement.
"But reality is so painful, so sometimes they need a dose, don't they."
"I agree."
"Of course. But we can't leave them dependent on the drug forever. In the end, the workers fundamentally need to be able to stand on their own."
"Indeed, Comrade Lenaro."
Karl Lenaro stood up from his seat.
"Comrades. As the Saint said, we put down our guns and bombs. Instead. We continue this war in the way that suits us best. The general strike is not over. The laws and power of the Empire have sided with us for the first time. If we don't move now, when will we?"
The Labor Theorists smiled.
"Production of propaganda materials. Completed."
"We have selected and recruited the comrades with the loudest voices."
"The pickets and flags are also already finished."
At those words, Karl Lenaro nodded.
At the same time, a bitter smile crossed his face.
"It would have been nice if we had the comrades locked up in the detention camps."
Most of the Labor Theorists remaining here were executive-level members.
The field organizers who worked directly on-site and knew the workers' faces were mostly locked up in the detention camps.
If they were here, organizing the protest would have been much easier, but what could be done. They were not here now.
No one could tell when they would be released.
"But what could we do. We had to proceed without them......."
"Comrade Lenaro!! Come out here for a moment!!"
"It's the comrades!! The comrades who were locked up in the detention camps are coming out!!"
At the urgent voices heard from outside, the faces of the executives brightened rapidly.
When they urgently turned their gaze toward the Scrap Yard, they saw a group of people in prison uniforms walking out under the escort of the Black Fortress inquisitors and the White Order's Ketratus squad members.
Their gaunt faces and worn, haggard skin showed the hardships they had endured, but their eyes were more piercingly alive than ever before.
"Ref!! Molotov!! Roza!! You're still alive!!"
"Comrade Lenaro!!"
The two groups of Labor Theorists embraced each other at the entrance of the Scrap Yard. The Black Fortress inquisitor who had been watching their reunion approached them and threw out a remark.
"The Labor Theorists in the detention camps have been concluded not to be demon followers after an investigation. Therefore, they are released, but if circumstances of breaking the law or attempting violence or terrorism are found again, they will be immediately re-detained. Terrorism and violence can never be tolerated."
"Of course."
After the inquisitors and the Ketratus disappeared, the Labor Theorists gathered in one place and immediately entered a meeting.
"We plan to continue the general strike protest that the Saint started."
"Please let us participate as well."
"We cannot miss this opportunity. We will go too."
"But aren't you all sick from living in the detention camp."
"We will get treatment and go. No. Even if it kills us, we must protest."
Everyone gritted their teeth.
"I absolutely must see the capitalist pigs of this city scream with my own two eyes."
"I don't care if I die protesting. I will definitely participate."
Karl Lenaro smiled warmly at those words.
"Go and receive treatment from the Saint. That person will make your bodies as good as new. And the moment your treatment ends. Let us go and protest. Remember this, gentlemen."
Karl Lenaro slammed his hand down on the table.
"The downfall of the capitalists of this city must be completed by the hands of the workers. We must be the protagonists. The Black Fortress, the Order of Grace, or the Pantheon must never be the main subjects of this. Let us raise our voices. We have no guns or swords in our hands.......but with ideology!! With the will of our united comrades, we will achieve it!!"
Karl slowly wrapped a red cloth he had placed in one corner around his forehead and chest. A pickaxe and a hammer were vividly drawn in intersection on the red cloth.
In the Scrap Yard, a city of mines and smithies, they were the two tools symbolizing the workers and the emblem of the Labor Theorists.
Until now, because of the police, they had never once been able to display this emblem in the middle of the street, but now they could.
"Let us go. Let us go seize victory in the way that suits us best!!"
It was a single sentence marking the beginning of the first massive strike protest recorded in the Empire's history.
***
The skill of the Labor Theorists was close to artistry.
Following the orders of Karl Lenaro and the executives, each organization began to move as smoothly as a flexible machine.
"District 3 chief, distribute these pickets and cloths to the comrades!"
"District 3 chief spreading the word to the union heads of each region! Immediately bring all your members and gather! The use of weapons and violence is forbidden! It is Comrade Lenaro's command!!"
"Wrap this cloth around your foreheads and chests!!"
"Wash your bodies and come out wearing your cleanest clothes!! This is a moment that will be recorded in the Empire's history!! Let us show everyone that workers are never in the position of shabby and miserable losers!!"
"Gather the journalists! Gather them even if you have to pay them! Tell them all to be sure to bring cameras!! We must capture these moments! We must make the whole Empire know!!"
They drew in the media and organized their own position and the contradictions and wrongdoings of the capitalists clearly and concisely.
And after deciding concretely on how to specifically improve the working conditions of the laborers.
They began to seriously engage in the protest.
And the protest initiated by the hands of experts promptly swelled.
To an enormous scale.
The workers of the Scrap Yard were diligent and sincere people.
It was an era where if you didn't work, you starved to death, so they were forced to be sincere.
But these people, who had lived sincerely their whole lives, had suddenly, in the past few days, been able to eat without any compensation, had slept on warm and soft beds, had had their sick bodies healed, and had seen their families' conditions become perfectly fine.
For them, who now had no worries or concerns and had leisure time for the first time, something to do was necessary, and just in time, Karl Lenaro gave them an appropriate task.
On top of that.
"Let us go! Comrades!! Let us go forth to reject the life of a part belonging to a factory and seize a life as human beings!!"
"Workers of all cities!! Unite!!"
"We had nothing to lose but our chains and shackles!! We have freedom and rights to gain!! Go forth for the dignity of human beings!!"
"Let us make the pigs of this city tremble in fear before our protest!!"
How could the well-trained agitation skills of the Labor Theorists be ordinary?
Thus, in an instant.
Hundreds of thousands of workers filled the central plaza of the Scrap Yard and the Iron Road, a massive freight transport route connected to the plaza, waving pickets and flags.
A spectacle unprecedented and never seen before in the Empire's history began to unfold.
"It's a scoop!! Shoot it!! Shoot it!!!"
"Stenographer!! Where is the stenographer!! Write down every single word they say without missing a single one!!"
The journalists flocked to the empty factory worker lodgings' windows and rooftops and began filming the spectacle.
The attention of the media.
No police force to suppress the massive protest.
An opportunity to publicize their position across the entire Empire.
It was a stage for the Labor Theorists, and on that stage, the Labor Theorists began to wield the weapons they had sharpened for over a decade.
Their tongues, which would have split the Empire in half if not for the Saint, began to be wielded with terrifying cruelty.
"A three-year-old child went blind while cleaning a chimney!! It was because of the decision of the capitalists who knowingly operated the factory and spewed toxic gas while the child was inside the chimney! There were no humans in the factory! Only parts! Nothing but parts!!"
"There were only humans whose lives were denied and beasts who had voluntarily abandoned their morality and ethics and rejected human dignity living in this city!!"
"Therefore, we take this opportunity to solemnly declare!! We declare the founding of the Imperial Workers' Association, and the Association will continue to fight against the capitalists' greed!! We will strive to advance the rights of the workers!!"
After declaring the founding of the association along with a solemn speech that ignited fire within, they began to shout slogans.
The slogans shouted in unison by over a hundred thousand workers under the command of the well-trained Labor Theorists exerted a frighteningly powerful force.
"Give us wages that allow us to maintain human dignity!!"
"Guarantee us break times and meal times!!"
"We are not machines!! We have the right to work only for a set amount of time and rest during the other hours!!"
Those slogans, shouted with all their might backed by pent-up anger, echoed resoundingly throughout the entire city.
"Punish the capitalists who exploited humans, denied them humane treatment, and ultimately summoned Mammon!!"
"Show us that law and justice are alive in the Empire!!"
"Imperial Household and Pantheon, answer our demands!! Answer us!!"
The desperate cries, shouted out through tears and wails, were transcribed verbatim by the journalists, and then the very next day.
They simultaneously made the front pages of newspapers across the entire Empire.
"You want me to send this article across the whole Empire? That's difficult. I need to use magic communication, and the cost is not just expensive..."
"I will pay all of that money."
"Text might be fine, but to send photos as well requires a lot of equipment. It also requires many skilled mages or witches..."
"We will help you."
It was possible thanks to the help of Jonathan Karma, Erpa, and the mages and witches belonging to the capital's Magic Tower temple.
And the newspaper article printed in this way struck the entire Empire with a tremendous shock.
"They say the Mammon followers arose from the exploitation of the workers."
"With a three-year-old child working until his fingers bent... It would be stranger if they didn't appear."
"For a long time, the Pantheon has warned that such things would happen. It's just that no one listened."
A voice of self-reflection began to emerge seriously within noble society.
The reason was that noble ladies and young noblewomen, who had no reason to know and no need to know about the poor circumstances of the workers, had begun to seriously raise their voices.
And the one leading the opinions of the women of that noble society was none other than.
Jonathan Karma's daughter.
Cecilia Karma.
"Before I met the Saint. I once lived in an old house near the slums. Thinking of the sights I saw then, the current situation is not surprising at all."
At the salon.
At the ball.
At the poetry reading.
At various concerts.
Cecilia spoke of her experiences living in the slums, which other noblewomen did not have, and those anecdotes drew an enormous reaction every time.
"Good heavens!! You mean the skin rotted and festered?"
"To think... a mother couldn't bring herself to discard her dead baby and just held it in her arms..."
"Ahh. Grace... W-What have we been doing all this time."
And that evening.
The daughters and wives, grandmothers and mothers who returned to the noble estates got angry at their sons, husbands, and fathers.
"Dear. Surely our family's businesses aren't being run that way as well? Please tell me that isn't so."
"Wife. Don't worry about it. I'll handle it well..."
"A Mammon follower emerged!! A Mammon follower!! I am telling you, a Mammon follower emerged coveting the resentment of the workers!! Are you going to let our family face a heresy inquisition? No! Before that, can you even do such a thing as a human being who knows ethics and morality!!"
"Father. If our family has also treated workers the way it was reported in the newspapers, by your orders... I may never be able to look at you the same way again."
There was no father, husband, or son who could ignore the terrifying public opinion of the women.
Thanks to that, public opinion within noble society was also slowly but surely.
Leaning toward the side that they must move toward improving and advancing the rights of the workers.
And Cecilia, who caught that trend faster than anyone, informed Princess Almene of that fact.
Unlike Iomene, who was commanding on-site at the Scrap Yard, Almene, who was working hard in the capital to enact laws, headed straight for the Emperor the moment she heard the information Cecilia conveyed.
"Would you like to give it a try?"
"Pardon?"
"To solidify the succession hierarchy, shouldn't you two also have some notable achievements? Take charge of drafting the Labor Law. Go and persuade the old foxes in the Senate who handle legislation. Fortunately, the atmosphere is in the direction you want, so it shouldn't be too difficult to move things."
Almene broke into a bright smile.
"I will carry it out! Father!"
Almene spared even her eating and sleeping time to go around meeting the nobles of the Senate.
That the Pantheon subtly helped her in her persuasion was a bonus.
"Count Albion. Continuing to run your businesses as they are now is no different from saying you will mass-produce more demon followers and evil god worshippers. I know well that the Count is a loyal subject of the Empire. Please, do cast a vote in favor of this Labor Law legislation."
"Yes. Yes. I will. Princess... Those people standing behind you... Could they maybe step back a bit? Or at least, perhaps lower the guns and swords strapped to their waists a little..."
"Laying down one's weapon is an action that violates the Codex Proelium. Count."
The Ketratus squad members and the most elite holy knights and battle priests from each order moved with Almene.
They said nothing, but merely standing behind Almene had the effect of properly pressuring many nobles.
In exactly three days, Almene succeeded in persuading over half of the senators in the Senate.
Then, as if waiting for this.
"I am considering newly drafting a Labor Law. What are your thoughts?"
"The Senate will follow Your Majesty's will."
"Then summon Karl Lenaro and Jonathan Karma to the Senate. Properly mediate the positions of both the capitalists and the workers to draft and pass the Labor Law. This task will be handled not by me, but by Almene, so act according to her commands."
The Emperor moved and confirmed the enactment of the Labor Law.
And that news was once again spread across the entire Empire within a single day by Jonathan Karma and Erpa.
"Comrades!! His Majesty has heard our cries!! I and the comrades will now go to the Senate tomorrow!!"
"Long live His Majesty!! May the Arkal Empire be eternal!!"
On the fifth day of the protest.
The protesting workers shed tears and embraced one another.
The emotion that the Empire's law and power had moved for them for the first time.
The joy that the Emperor had not abandoned them yet.
And the hope that their lives could improve in the future.
"Long live the Imperial Workers' Association!!"
"Long live Comrade Karl Lenaro!"
"Long live His Majesty!!"
"Long live the Saint!!"
The entire city was filled with the cheers of the workers.
In this moment.
There seemed to be no one unhappy in the Scrap Yard.
"You, you, you son of a bitch!! You snitched on that incident? How could you do this to me!! You should have taken it to the grave!!"
"I was about to be branded a heretic and sent to the Silence Order's underground to spend the rest of my life there!! I had to survive too, didn't I??"
"You goddamn bastard!! Ungrateful wretch!!"
Except for the group of factory owners who were brawling messily over restarting their factories and whatnot as the situation turned against them.
"I-I really did nothing wrong at all!! It was all Mayor Bias!! That bastard's orders..."
"Officer."
"Yes?"
"Have you ever tried eating soup through your nose? The soup holds the answer."
And except for the policemen who were hanging upside down, taking the hot soup through the nose challenge alongside the Black Fortress interrogators.