Chapter 102 Chairman
The night in the mining village was covered with black snow, and wherever the gray-black condensation fell, it looked like a layer of cold and fine volcanic ash.
At the home of union chairman Gad Mavro, dozens of workers and two emaciated goats crammed into a shack so crowded it was about to burst. The hot, stinking air made the winter night's cold seem less unbearable.
Mavro's wife brought the only three potatoes in the house and a small piece of green goat cheese - but no one was in the mood to eat, even though everyone's eyes bulged out from hunger, cold and fatigue.
"We shouldn't have agreed to this," one worker shouted. "Those people are full of nonsense. It's just verbal promises. If they go back on their word, we'll be in even worse trouble—not to mention what about the slaves?"
He pointed angrily at a frighteningly thin man standing nearby and said, "Should we tell the union that even though we promised you a good life, you're still just going to keep rolling in the mines as slag, living like beasts who aren't even treated like human beings?!"
The slave representative he pointed at said nothing, but just lowered his head, revealing the black blood mark on his forehead.
Someone immediately retorted, "Didn't Bishop Miller offer to help oversee things? Wait until you survive!"
He slammed his fist on the table. "Just look at what kind of hell we're living. We're like a bunch of rats trapped in their nest, ready to drown at any moment! Haven't you heard about the Royal City Army? If they enter Borak County, we'll be finished. We won't even be able to preserve our current achievements!"
Everyone was arguing.
Guede Mavro sat silently between two goats, his little daughter in his arms. He waited until the workers' quarrels died down. Then he spat out the tobacco he had grown and said in a hoarse voice, "Then let's vote by show of hands."
"Those who are willing to agree to the existing conditions, want to end the strike, and abandon the miners, raise your hands."
A few hands were slowly raised, while more people just looked at each other in confusion, hesitant.
"Those who are unwilling to agree to the existing conditions and wish to continue the strike, to continue the struggle, and to free more slaves, raise your hands."
There were still a few hands, but the number was slightly larger. However, the silent ones still made up the majority.
"Then it is clear," said Guy Mavro slowly, "that the majority will prevail."
"Chairman!" Someone stared at him in disbelief. "That's the Royal City Army! Do you understand what the Royal City Army is? The Royal City Army that once burned and massacred most of the Northern City! And we don't even have a single apostle-level warlock among us!"
"Why should we die for a bunch of slaves?" He stood up, ignoring others' attempts to stop him, and grabbed the slave representative by the collar. "Look, he hasn't said a word yet, just wanting to reap the benefits. We were the first to resist, the ones who persevered. It's because these slaves have the damned Black Blood Mark on them that the vast majority of those who went to fight the overseers and die were ours!"
"Have you forgotten what Mr. Nova said?" A bespectacled worker sitting next to the union chairman stood up angrily. "Don't be divided by those in power. Otherwise, this will be the beginning of destruction!"
"He knows shit!" the other person cursed. "A professor who stays at a university, eats and clothes well every day, and the heaviest thing he's ever lifted is a pen. He pretends to write a few articles and letters, donates a little money, and spreads some cheap sympathy, and he thinks he can ride on my head?"
"Shut up! Are you crazy?!" Someone grabbed him and slapped him hard in the face.
"I quit, you're just a bunch of lunatics." The man didn't fight back, but just shook his head tremblingly, his eyes trembling nervously.
"Go ahead and kill yourself. My wife just gave birth to a son, and I can't die." He turned and walked out of the shack, walking faster and faster, almost running. "I'm going to find the supervisor and tell him I quit. I need a job..."
With a loud bang, the man's body shook at the door and fell down silently. Everyone fell silent.
"I repeat, the union does not tolerate betrayal." Guy de Mavro retracted his still-smoking rifle and sternly glanced at the still-shocked crowd. "Anyone can disagree with the union's decision, but they cannot be scabs!"
The little daughter in his arms was so scared that she burst into tears and hugged her father's neck with her little hands.
"Today we abandoned our slaves, tomorrow we'll abandon our incapacitated wounded, and the day after tomorrow we'll betray our compatriots and comrades!" Amidst his daughter's cries, Guesde Mavro's voice was low, but loud enough for everyone to hear: "How did we get to where we are today? How did we convince those high and mighty masters to fear us, and how did we convince the noble cardinal to humble himself and win us over? Isn't it all because of unity, by winning over every comrade?"
"Make arrangements. In three days, the union will hold a general referendum. Slaves will be able to vote, too, so everyone can decide their own fate." He turned to Four Eyes and calmly instructed, "Also, tell Zack's wife that her husband has tragically died, and that the union will provide for their and their child's needs from now on."
He stood up and handed his daughter to his wife. "Anyone else has any objections?"
No one answered.
"——Very good, then adjourn the meeting!"
Meanwhile, officials in Black County were completely sleepless. Pressure from their superiors and the capital was relentless, and no one was to blame for the massive mess their workers had caused.
The arrival of the Cardinal seemed to offer a way out, but no one knew whether the end of the road was an abyss.
"Our God once said that those who are kind and generous will be favored by the light," the seemingly elegant, gentle, and easygoing gentleman sighed to them. "The endless coal essence beneath the Silver Flower Mine is also a manifestation of our God's mercy, don't you think?"
The other party opened his mouth and made a huge request, demanding 10% of the coal concentrate from the Silver Flower Mine. This made the accompanying official from Blake County almost faint. He trembled and muttered, "My God of Light, don't joke, sir, this is not something we can decide..."
The Queen attached great importance to the mining of coal concentrate. Anyone who dared to interfere was guilty of a serious crime punishable by beheading. Therefore, even the habitual criminals in the mining area, who were accustomed to extortion and extortion under the guise of "mining losses", were now watching and watching, not daring to get involved.
"His Holiness the Pope is also deeply concerned at the tragic scene in Black County," the man said with a noncommittal sigh. "Commoners, slaves, workers... everyone should listen to the teachings of the Light. I truly cannot bear to see the people of the Light being forced into a dead end."
What this means is that he can use his influence to persuade the union to soften its stance and return to the negotiating table, but it also means that the other party can incite the workers to make even more trouble.
Perhaps the Royal City Army would clean out the damned mob, but who would do the mining if they killed them all? Where would they find so many skilled workers all at once? If they could fully alert the Royal City Army, the careers of these incompetent officials in Borak County would be over. They might even be beheaded by the enraged Queen.
——Should I wait for death or take the risk and atone for my sins?
Bishop Miller settled in the Bright Church in Black County. The overly polluted air there made him quite uncomfortable. After just a day of tossing around in the mining area, he would wash out streams of black water from deep in his nasal cavity when he washed up at night. Even the corners of his always neat and clean robes were stained with coal dust.
The Cardinal closed his eyes in boredom.
...It was a terrible place, which made him, who always liked cleanliness, feel uncomfortable all over.
Those stupid, cowardly, and greedy officials kept asking him if he could really ensure that the workers would stop causing trouble. He made repeated promises on the surface, but inwardly he was already quite impatient.
This strike in Black County was unusual. Unlike previous riots, it was just a group of rabble venting their anger. As long as a few leaders were killed, the rest would scatter like panicked sheep.
The depth, breadth, destructiveness, and impact of this strike were unprecedented. The further the Black County strike progressed, the more Pawanton Miller developed a vague premonition: a mysterious, unknown figure lurking deep within this group of workers. Standing at the highest point, he manipulated everything with precision and ruthlessness, ensuring every move was flawless. And his goal was far greater than simply legislating to protect workers' welfare.
He went to see the union president, a figure among the workers, but definitely not to this extent - then who was it? Among a group of almost uneducated, stupid and ignorant workers, could someone really do this, or was it just his illusion?
Somehow, a figure flashed through Pavaton Miller's mind, but he quickly rejected it - the other party could only write articles and bribe workers to take some secret photos. Although that person was the chosen one of the God of Love, he was just an ordinary person after all. No matter how smart he was, he was just an ordinary person. How could he possibly control the situation from thousands of miles away?
Tonight, Black County is just like a hapless traveler who is gradually sinking into a swamp. He dares not shout or struggle, but can only lie on the wooden board that seems to be able to save his life, sinking little by little, waiting for rescue that may or may not come.
Many people were waiting for the union's response. But on the night before the general referendum, the swamp was devastated by a shocking piece of news, with flesh and blood splattering everywhere.
Gad Mavro, president of the Black County Coal Union, has died.
Killed by a slave.
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