Chapter 1811 - 502: The Short-Sighted Thunder City Citizens, Ultimately Bought by the Demon’s Deceit (Part 5)

"Keep it up, I'm rooting for you... just like you rooting for me to become tomorrow's Sir. Of course, if I'm not elected, you'll become the manager... but the factory will still need to be run by me."

"Boss! Rest assured!" Elsey's eyes sparkled as he clenched his fists, exuding unprecedented enthusiasm, "I'll risk my life to help you secure that parliamentary seat!"

"Ahem... that's not necessary, the future Sir Horace would prefer you to use your life in more meaningful places, like his factory."

Horace chuckled; he found himself surprisingly enjoying the feeling of being flattered, his mouth unconsciously curving upwards.

Perhaps this was the fourth revelation given to him by Saint Sis, praise the omnipresent Holy Light, perhaps, compared to a textile factory director, the parliamentary position better suits his shameless demeanor.

Meanwhile, watching the tearfully grateful young man in front of him, he felt a different emotion rising within him.

He always felt Campbell people were ungrateful ingrates, slack off just because they were withheld two days' wages.

But now he suddenly realized there were good lads like Elsey among them.

Or to put it more accurately, they are actually all great lads.

As long as he responded positively to their enthusiasm, they would use their cleverness to positively respond to him, instead of turning around and throwing all their resentment his way...

...

In early February 1054 of the Aus Calendar, Luo Yan the Member of Parliament was utterly speechless about how the winter break in Hell could be so long.

Meanwhile, Thunder City's Horace Factory Director and Yokavin Factory Director were scrambling for a small city councilor position.

Not actually breaking their heads.

But Yokavin's manager had a clever idea, digging up an old grievance where a young fellow had his arm broken at Horace Textile Factory, making a big fuss and exposing the hypocritical "benevolent" facade of Horace.

The crowd was in uproar.

They also remembered, it did indeed happen, it was right before Princess Erin set out.

Unfortunately, Elsey was one step ahead, already anticipating the conniving Yokavin Factory Director dredging up old accounts, sensationalizing the arm caught in the textile machine, letting that arm be caught again.

He had been waiting for him to bring it up!

Just when the public opinion was rampaging, he invited that young man to stand in front of the crowd, showcasing his newly grown arm, and personally narrated what happened after that day.

"My name is Brycen, I heard you've started discussing me again lately, ridiculing me, sympathizing with my arm... I feel I should say something as the person involved."

On the corner of Factory Street No. 4 in the New Industrial Zone, a slightly uneasy young man stood in front of the crowd.

With encouragement from Elsey's gaze, he thought of the money in his pocket, and finally mustered the courage.

"Mr. Horace sent me to the church, instructed the priest to ensure my injury was healed, no need to worry about money, he would cover it, even if it meant mortgaging his factory... I can testify for him, he is truly a good person, though sometimes his words aren't pleasant."

It was true he was sent to the church, and indeed his arm was healed, after all, Horace dared not defy Princess Erin.

On the Aus Continent, besides congenital disability, perhaps only poverty can cripple a person.

The arm grown from Holy Light, though not as good as one born from parents, does not affect daily life.

He doesn't go on adventures in the maze anyway.

As for other things... believing Saint Sis won't blame him, after all, he didn't specify which priest heard these words.

Watching the young man spewing lies openly, Yokavin was almost vomiting blood in rage.

He wasn't the one involved, but he was too familiar with Horace, that miser who hesitated to replace torn clothes would say things like this?

This greedy undead, if he ever said them, Yokavin would eat Thunder City's church!

Eat as much as there is!

Seeing people waver, Yokavin finally couldn't hold back. The dignified gentleman pushed through the crowd, and came to the front, glaring at the young man asked.

"By Saint Sis, how much did he spend to buy your soul!? Have you thought about what disaster your lies might bring to us? You are sending the real demon into our Parliament!"

"2000 silver pounds, sir."

The young man didn't hide, straightforwardly told the dignified gentleman, stunning Yokavin into speechlessness.

"Honestly, it's the compensation Mr. Horace gave me because... he felt I ultimately lost something. Money can't replace the flesh and blood granted by my parents, but money was the only price he could pay. He pleaded for me to accept this money, so he could feel a bit better."

Yokavin had never heard such shameless speeches, he could even feel that miser squeezing out a victorious grimace at him, while clutching his bleeding chest.

'Surprised, huh? I foresaw you conniving scoundrel would play this hand long ago!'

The crowd indeed boiled over.

Especially those who once gathered around and joined Horace's workers in besieging the textile factory.

That simple and pure resonance worked better than any number of newspapers because the person involved was right here!

"By Saint Sis..."

"We... actually wrongly accused Mr. Horace once again."

"I knew he was a generous man! Don't forget he was the first to build a big dormitory for us and the first to pay us wages in silver pounds!"