Chapter 105 The Truth
Mr. Guyd Mavro:
There is a high probability that you will die in the near future.
Ending the strike serves the interests of many groups, but not the long-term interests of the people at the bottom. But at this moment, almost everyone wants you dead: the royal city, local officials, the church, mine owners, the companies... even the freezing and starving refugees and some within the union who fear destruction. Physically eliminating a leader with immense voice and personal power is the simplest, crudest, and most foolish approach. However, the vast majority of your opponents are arrogant, cold-blooded, and foolish, so you are likely to die, and your death will most likely sow discord between the workers and the slaves.
The Black County strike was doomed to fail.
First, without truly establishing its own leadership team and core action program, it relies on referendums on all fundamental issues concerning basic direction, basic principles, and basic interests. This appears democratic, but in reality is a compromise. Unions should lead the masses, not manipulate them. Unions can engage in criticism and self-criticism within themselves and voice opinions on their decisions through normal channels, even if it means engaging in extensive discussions and debates until everyone understands the pros and cons. However, they must never stray from the path of right and wrong.
Second, they failed to win over the sorcerers and warriors, nor did they truly unite the vast majority of slaves. The former were widespread across all classes, while the latter, after rescuing the slaves, should have immediately killed the slave overseers to remove the Black Blood Mark. However, to prevent escalation, the guild only imprisoned the overseers, rendering the slaves useless. Internal conflict was inevitable. The failure to fully unite certain groups resulted in the guild having too few reliable friends and too many powerful enemies.
Third, without armed workers, in other words, without the resolve to fight with force, they pin their hopes on the enemy's kindness and compromise. The real massacre is quietly approaching, perhaps in the form of bloody, widespread assassinations and manhunts, perhaps even a massacre by the royal army. The enemy's bottom line will be far lower than you and I imagine, and the union, lacking the ability to fight, will be reduced to a situation where we are the fish on the chopping board..."
Mr. Nova:
...Although you believed the strike would fail (Four Eyes was furious at this conclusion and scolded you, then, after calming down, asked me to apologize to you on his behalf), you still fully supported the union's actions in every way, even risking arrest and imprisonment. To the point that I had to memorize as many of your letters as possible and then burn them all. I'm curious why you did this?"
Mr. Guyd Mavro:
Because I'm not a god, I can only use everything in my mind to try to prevent the possibility of tragedy. Even historical experience tells me that this is absolutely futile. At this stage, before lessons are learned, sacrifices and mistakes are inevitable. I'm just writing you a few casual letters, hiding myself in the safety of the rear. But every decision made on the front lines, and every death that results from it, is stained with real and noble blood. But history will be written by the real masses, not by me alone. I still hope to see miracles forged by the people.
"One last thing. For selfish reasons, I want you to live. Do you want to live?"
Mr. Nova:
Please let more people survive."
…
At White Tower University, Owl was so pleased that even the feathers on his hood looked exceptionally sleek. Seeing his old rival in the Church in deep trouble was simply delightful. The Queen was furious, and many officials in Black County were beheaded for treason. However, the Radiant Church existed independently of state institutions, and in the last century, it even subtly overshadowed the royal power. Even though it no longer had its former glory, it could not be so arbitrarily dealt with officials. Otherwise, a blasphemous hat and the protests from the vast majority of believers would be enough to cause headaches for the royal family.
But the royal family would not give up. Although there was no movement on the surface, they took heavy measures in secret. Negative news about the Glowing Church suddenly became rampant. The current Pope Mariono Sablic even took the initiative to go to the Yuanxin Palace for the first time in nearly five years. For a time, the strike in Bolek County became a secondary matter.
"Three days after Gad Mavro's death, the workers organized another referendum." Owl paced around Nova's office, making strange gurgling sounds in his throat. "The new union president announced an end to the strike as long as the authorities met the union's demands. However, this time the union added some protections for slaves, such as limiting working hours to ten hours a day. As a result, the newly appointed county governor quickly agreed and even set up a subsidy for the workers out of his own pocket."
Nova, who was working at her desk, barely glanced up at him. "That's normal. The main conflict has shifted from the workers and those in power to the royal family, the Vatican, local officials, mine owners, and the 'Protector' company."
His tone was calm, as if it were a matter of course: "At times like these, workers have become property and resources that need to be fought over. The authorities are eager to calm the situation and hope that the unions will not cause trouble at this juncture, even if it means making concessions."
Owl couldn't help but laugh at him. "You were still nagging the students about how the workers shouldn't stop the strike. How does it feel to be stabbed in the back?"
"We need to analyze each case individually," the black-haired young man said coldly. "I'm not the one facing the pressure of survival, nor am I the one starving. Until now, I've only been writing. It's unreasonable to expect those who are truly making sacrifices to act in accordance with my ideas."
Besides, he also contributed a lot to it.
"...I didn't expect you to be so considerate." Owl couldn't help but look at him in surprise, then suddenly said thoughtfully, "Is the sudden involvement of the 'Shelter' company part of your involvement?"
He didn't believe in the damned Photo Stone R&D and testing—and how did Gad Mavro suddenly know about the deal between the Vatican and local officials? The subtleties involved inevitably aroused suspicion.
Sure enough, the guy drooped his eyes noncommittally and replied in a nonchalant tone, "It's simple. The Vatican wants the coal concentrate, and the ownership of the coal concentrate is currently divided between two parties: the 'Protector' company and the royal family. And it's much easier and safer to go after a large company than to steal from the royal family. As long as we explain the pros and cons clearly, the 'Protector' company will be happy to help."
Of course, the so-called "clarification" was an extremely complicated process of wrangling and testing. He hadn't signed the letter, and the other party probably mistook him for a member of the royal family, trying to take on the Vatican, but unwilling to reveal his identity for various reasons—a misunderstanding that benefited their own side, and Nova didn't bother to explain it.
The owl looked deeply at the black-haired young man in front of him.
He looked thin and frail, even revealing a hint of morbid fatigue and weakness. It was just such a fragile ordinary man who seemed to be easily crushed to death at any time. However, thousands of miles away, with just a few letters, he had woven a dense and unfathomable invisible web in Bolek County, making a group of powerful forces like moths that had stumbled into a spider web. The more they struggled, the uglier they became. For a moment, Owl was even somewhat glad that he had not encountered such a terrifying opponent in his youth. He was worthy of being nicknamed "The Great Devil" by the teachers and students of Baita University.
If Owl could have a frank talk with a male protagonist, perhaps they would have a lot in common in this regard.
Seeing that a certain demon king was gradually showing impatience, before the other party could order him to leave, Owl interrupted him angrily and said, "Okay, one last question."
"Who killed Guy Mavro?"
It wasn't Bishop Miller. Although that guy was so arrogant that he didn't even want to change into inconspicuous clothes even for a secret appointment late at night - every time Owl thought of this, he couldn't help but laugh out loud with gloating - but it was unlikely that the other party would use such a secretive method of frame-up against a commoner.
Because of its strength, disdain, and arrogance, the "Dustless Light" is not entirely undeserved.
"Does it matter?" The young man looked at him calmly, unable to discern his reaction to the union chairman's death. "Perhaps it was local officials, the Vatican, the 'Protector' company, slaves and workers, or even a commoner who blamed the union for the rising coal prices—from the moment he left the workers' circle and went out alone, Gus Mavro was doomed."
The union chairman already knew his own fate - while waiting for death, when the muzzle of a gun from high up in the darkness was aimed at him, his choice was to fight back.
The owl left. Nova lowered his head to continue his work, but a hand suddenly gently grasped his chin, gently but firmly forcing him to look up.
"Are you feeling pained by the death of the union president?" Azuka asked in a low voice.
Nova looked at him expressionlessly: "...I don't think I should have thrown myself into your arms and cried my heart out right now."
"There are more ways to express pain than just crying." The other person gently wiped his eyes with his fingers.
There was no moisture, just like a cold, hard stone. The stone was the dead body of a star.
The black-haired young man was silent for a while, then suddenly said, "I need a mirror."
“…”
"I can't see the micro-expressions on my face, so I can't tell how I'm doing."
Nova was stunned for a moment. He was suddenly pressed into a warm chest, and even held a pen in his hand. The other person hugged him tightly, but this time he didn't feel uneasy or resist. Instead, he felt so tired that he wanted to close his eyes.
...Humans are social animals, and close contact with companions does indeed prompt people to secrete oxytocin and endorphins, which calm emotions and relieve pain.
"You don't need this." The God's Blessed One replied calmly, "I could have gone to Borak County to rescue him, but I didn't."
- If this makes you feel painful, let me share the responsibility.
The other person fell silent. Azuka took the pen from the other person's hand without encountering any resistance. He stroked his back with his fingers, patting it gently like coaxing a child. The man still did not struggle, which made people feel so sad and tender that the savior could not help but lower his head and kiss the other person's hair so gently that it was almost imperceptible.
After a long moment, his old enemy spoke tiredly but resolutely in his arms.
"No," he said.
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