Chapter 1812 - 502: And the Short-Sighted Thunder City Citizens Were Finally Bought by the Demon’s Schemes

Looking at that group of foolish people, Yokavin let out a piercing scream.

"Wake up! Where did the silver pound come from a year ago!"

"Haven't you noticed? This guy's compensation was just given!!"

However, that righteous call was ultimately too small.

Just like Horace who clamored to shut down the factory in the square that day, his voice was also drowned out by the heartfelt sighs of the crowd.

It's not that Yokavin's voice was too small.

After all, how can delaying compensation be considered a big deal, everyone working here has been owed wages at some point?

At least he gave it.

And it was indeed a large sum!

Thus, relying on Elsey's "clever scheme," Horace effortlessly defeated his most powerful competitor.

As for the owner of the biscuit factory, he was simply not in the ring.

Indeed, just as he laughed, that little sparrow was far too insignificant, not even understanding the business, how could it be worthy as his opponent?

Amid Yokavin's curses, the stingy demon happily sat in Thunder City's municipal council hall.

He wore formal attire with a tie, drank free red tea, and took part in the discussion and voting on the sixth bill, deciding the fate of the cattle and sheep.

Horace pondered for a long time and eventually didn't foolishly vote against, after all, this was a roll-call vote.

Considering the reputation was bought for 2000 silver pounds, he still had to cherish that expensive feather a bit.

At least don't let it get dirty too early.

Moreover, ignoring people's voices requires bearing the cost, the tight string will eventually break one day.

With still a trace of piety in his heart, he always believed that Saint Sis must have given him some kind of revelation.

Otherwise, why was he rescued by the Chosen One?

As Elsey said, this bill doesn't significantly impact the already large-scale Horace Textile Factory. The ones who will feel the real pain are perhaps only those "old artisans" who exploit apprentices under the guise of tradition.

This group of people is best at pretending to be righteous, as if they wouldn't bear to hurt even a fly, yet they swallow the fly whole.

Horace thought over and over and eventually participated in revising the proposal's specific content in the capacity of an industry insider.

Three decrees were adjusted through multi-party discussions, finally forming a version that catered to the interests of most people and passed the final vote by a narrow margin.

The first was Thunder City's minimum wage standard, adjusted from a monthly salary of 2000 copper coins to 12 silver pounds, and it must be paid in silver pounds.

Thunder City's factories could no longer use increasingly worthless copper coins to exploit the blood and sweat of Campbell people, which was indeed a pity.

However, compared to the average wage of 20 silver pounds, the minimum standard of 12 silver pounds seemed not too hard to accept, given many people were already paying wages higher than that...

Except for those guild craftsmen who completely didn't pay wages to apprentices.

It's indeed shameful that even in the gradually industrializing Thunder City, such employers still lingering in the feudal era are not scarce, and perhaps it will take time to completely eradicate them.

If peasants were the slaves of lords serving the castle system, apprentices were the slaves of craftsmen serving the massive guild system, rooted in the bloodlines of every city on the Old Continent.

The second decree was about compensation for dismissed employees and eventually specified concrete compensation standards.

If employers dismiss employees without cause, those who have worked for more than three months must be compensated three months' salary, while those who have worked for less than three months are additionally given one month's salary as compensation.

As for the third decree, it was Erin's so-called "security fund," or the "extra tax" everyone was concerned about.

Erin hoped that employers in the New Industrial Zone would set aside 10% of their income as worker's protection to pay compensation when workers get hurt.

However, the fact is, not all industries have such high profit margins, nor do all industries bear such high risks.

For instance, the risk borne by steel factory workers and pastry chefs is clearly different, and the value generated is also different.

Employers will eventually pass on part of the cost to employees, even if pastry chefs only share half of the risk cost of steel factory workers, its fairness is still up for discussion.

The City Hall's solution was to establish an "Occupational Injury Insurance Act" separately.

The law stipulates that manual laborers in high-risk industries like factories, mines, railways, and shipyards are subject to this act, clearly defining the basic principle of "no-fault" for laborers.

Simply put, a hundred years ago, Campbell workers needed to prove "employer's fault" and win a nearly impossible victory against employers in court.

But now, they don't need to prove anything, nor do they need to go to court, as employers must buy insurance for employees, ensuring employees receive insurance compensation will be the duty of the city hall's regulatory department.

This law is still unpopular.

But it's certainly better than everyone paying a 10% "special tax," to establish a fund that even Erin herself had not figured out how to implement.

Thus, the messy "Sixth Act" kept expanding, turning into two laws, the "Factory Law" and the "Occupational Injury Insurance Law."

The former clarifies the working hours of child and female laborers and makes clear provisions for production safety supervisors and the installation of protective facilities in production workshops.

As for the latter, it is actually the prototype of the "national social security system," though none of those present have realized it yet.

After all, in their minds, the "nation" is still merely a vague prototype, just born amidst the textile workers' curses at the King and the flushed arguments of the council members.

Summarizing the past is the historian's job, anyone sitting at the conference table is merely a passenger on that ship, none knowing where they'll ultimately head.

Including Horace himself.

As a slightly larger gear in the machine of the Campbell Duchy, all he could do was run alongside the ball bearings.

In order to run a little faster, or to become "Sir Horace" sooner, he ultimately put forth his long-prepared proposition before the meeting ended—

Thunder City needs to expand the Refugee Camp, and the City Hall should establish a "technical school" in the expanded camp to ensure they learn skills faster, sooner entering the factories to make a living.

"...This city doesn't only belong to the decent people but also to those who aren't yet decent."

"They are our past, also our future selves, and even more, our future. Apart from making them wait for relief, we should teach them something, like literacy, so they can find work themselves. Also, learning to use the loom..."

This guy, prone to outbursts, occasionally bursts out a few golden sentences.

If Erin were here, she would certainly look at this stingy guy's changes with new eyes.

At least the tavern owner sitting next to him indeed widened his eyes in surprise and applauded him reluctantly.

This proposal laid the groundwork for the new bill.

Though whether it will be passed remains unknown, its appearance indeed earned Horace enough applause.

In February of the Aus Calendar year 1054, a notorious miser sat in the expanded conference hall and issued a surprisingly generous voice for the "benefit of the poor."

However, Mr. Horace ultimately failed to make it to the Thunder City Daily's headlines.

After all, compared to the two bills passed on the same day and another major event concerning the Duchy's fate that occurred simultaneously, this little matter was indeed insignificant...