The Nebula's Civilization

Chapter 202: Moderate Revolution



Chapter 202: Moderate Revolution

Sarcho quickly glanced around the basement and said, “Is this everyone?”

“Pardon?”

“I mean, the entire revolutionary faction…”

“Ah, yes, this is all of us.”

There were seven of them, consisting of species in the Tailless class, Humans, Elves, Halflings, Gnomes, and Dwarves. Judging by the clothes they had on, they seemed to have come here right after getting off work. Sarcho felt they could identify where each of them worked based on their appearance.

‘The one with the smell of resin on their apron must be from a leather factory. The one with grease on their face probably works on gears. That person with a bunch of tools around their waist looks like an assembler. And the scent of sawdust…’

They all looked like typical laborers, not threatening at all. While some looked at Sarcho uneasily, most greeted Sarcho with warm smiles, seemingly wanting to gain the favor of a priest.

Sarcho was reminded of their mother, who had to work tirelessly while raising them and their siblings. Even though everyone here was in the Tailless class, there were many among the Half Tailed who worked in factories.

Sarcho thought.

‘…Right. From their perspective, I’m an outsider. They won’t reveal everything at once. I’ll need to spend time getting close to them and get information.’

Sarcho cleared their throat and asked, “So how did this gathering begin?”

“Pardon?”

Garil responded with a puzzled look.

Sarcho belatedly realized the question sounded intrusive.

“Oh, what I meant was…”

“I understand. You’re concerned if we might be a suspicious group, right?”

At Garil’s words, a female Dwarf curtly said, “I told you, we should’ve explained beforehand.”

“We can explain now.”

Feeling anxious, Sarcho said, “Well, you’re following the will of the Pantheon…”

As soon as the Pantheon was mentioned, Garil quickly waved his hand.

“Oh, goodness! Did you see us as apostates?”

Then the others began to say one by one.

“It’s understandable. Rumors have it that many famous revolutionaries from other cities are apostates.”

“I’ve heard the Empire’s Intelligence Agency directly incites it.”

“Especially in the old Garang Kingdom region, there are stories of successful revolutions.”

Garil lightly knocked on the wall.

“Quiet down, everyone. You’re worrying the priest.”

Sarcho asked, “So, you all have no relation to such revolutionary factions?”

Garil awkwardly laughed.

“We can’t say our effort isn’t connected to them at all. We did rise after hearing the success of some of those revolutionary factions. However, we’re not apostates and have no intentions of becoming one.”

“But in the end, you all plan to gather people and start a revolution, don’t you?”

“Well, yes…but the revolution as society perceives it and what we imagine are quite different.”

The society’s notion of a revolution consisted of things like criminals from labor camps rising against guards and taking their weapons to defy the Union Kingdom, local people storming into the lords’ castles to murder the lords with spears, or laborers setting their factories on fire saying they could no longer work.

Garil said, “But we have no intentions of doing such. Setting fire to a factory? Even the thought itself is horrific. How would we work the next day?”

“Garil works at a carpentry shop making chairs. Without him, everyone would have to eat and work standing up.”

Garil laughed at the joke.

In the somewhat relaxed atmosphere, Sarcho said, “So what is it you all want…?”

Garil raised his finger and replied, “Ah, we’re still working on that. With so many differing opinions, it’s hard to come to a consensus.”

Then Sarcho thought to himself.

‘Of course.’

From what Sarcho knew, what the revolutionaries typically discussed was egalitarianism: the belief that all species should have equal rights and that one’s mere existence had value to be acknowledged. Egalitarianism stood against aristocratism, which argued that descendants inherently deserved the values and achievements of their ancestors.

‘But even the Empire of Manners, Black Scale, hasn’t accepted such radical thoughts entirely either.’

Beyond this, the revolutionary factions had numerous and often extremist demands. There was word about them demanding the reigning emperor of the Union Kingdom to step down, and even for the temples of the Angry One to be burned down. Though the winds of revolution hadn’t yet reached Shubanel, a fairly large commercial city, everyone was concerned about the rumors that these revolutions elsewhere. And Sarcho was no exception.

Sarcho asked, “How many demands do you have that it’s so complicated?”

A laborer replied, “Well, for starters, we’d like our meal breaks to be twice as long.”

“…Meal breaks?”

“Yes. Currently, we only get 15 minutes. Rushing to eat the provided meals means the break is over before you know it, and it’s even more troublesome to take a restroom break outside of that time…”

The other laborers then began to chime in.

“I’d also like a reduction of our working hours. I’ve been switched to the night shift and my days and nights have totally reversed. It’s been days since I’ve seen my child’s face.”

“Also, if one gets injured at work, the compensation should be increased. I came out because of my friend who, while working at an ironworks, got her hand caught and can no longer use it. Now she can’t find any other job and is on the streets trying to sell whatever she can scrape together, and she doesn’t even have enough seed money…”

Garil cleared his throat and interrupted, “And there’s the matter of wages.”

As Sarcho looked at Garil with interest, Garil began to explain. It wasn’t just the matter of the amount of wages. There was too big a difference between the profit a factory made and the amount the factory owner shared with the workers.

The current city workers were descendants, 3rd or 4th generation, of the 1st generation farmers who moved to modernized cities to work. They were essentially the children of unsuccessful labor families, burdened by the high costs of urban living. However, their earnings were barely enough to cover rent and necessities. Unable to accumulate assets, they found it impossible to move up the social ladder, having to work till death like another cog in the machine.

Sarcho asked, “Have you tried speaking to the factory owners about this?”

“Of course, but there are laws that allow them to just lay us off. I have a friend who was laid off and couldn’t get jobs at other factories, so they beg for food now. With the law on the side of the factory owners, talking to them doesn’t do anything.”

“What about the mayor?”

Garil gave an awkward laugh. “In these times, if people like us Tailless even go near the city hall, we’re dragged away by the guards. If we’re unlucky and get mistaken for radical revolutionaries, we could even be sent to slave labor camps.”

From their conversation, it seemed these people were not aggressive revolutionaries, but rather those who tried to convince the powers that be through dialogue. And they seemed to call themselves moderate revolutionaries.

“The hardliners would probably find it hard to convince anyone, and honestly, who would agree with them? So, we thought, let’s try to at least get our voices heard…”

After hearing what they had to say, Sarcho was somewhat bewildered. The revolutionary factions were known to be apostates, ready to kill the Full Tailed nobles and sell the Union Kingdom to the Empire, but this didn’t seem to be the case.

‘No, no. The High Priest said not to be swayed by any deception. Behind all this might be the conspiracy of the Devil.’

Sarcho then said, “After hearing what you guys have to say, I feel somewhat relieved. However, there’s still something I’m curious about.”

“Curious about what…?”

“There are revolutions happening in other cities as well, but isn’t there someone who initiated all this? If it was just about seeing others do it and deciding to jump in, I’d expect you all to be more radical…”

“Ah, I see what you’re saying.”

Sarcho thought they finally had a significant lead. If Sarcho returned without any gain after spying on the revolutionaries, Sarcho would be too ashamed to even face the high priest.

Garil said, “The one friend I mentioned earlier who had been laid off from the factory, after they got fired and was sitting devastated on the roadside, a Lizardman approached them, and they had a conversation.”

“A Lizardman? Did your friend see the color of the Lizardman’s scales?”

“It was the middle of the night, so apparently they weren’t sure about that. Anyway, thanks to the Lizardman’s advice on how to raise our voices in a gentle way that everyone could accept, the people here agreed.”

Sarcho was puzzled. “Isn’t that…the tale of the Wandering Lizardman?”

“Haha. Exactly.”

It was one of the tales that had circulated in the Union Kingdom for generations. When faced with hardship, a Lizardman wearing a hood would emerge from the shadows, assist, and then vanish. Not many truly believed that such a Lizardman really existed. There were also similar tales involving an Orc on roads or an Elf in the mountain.

“Well, that was likely just a coincidence.”

Sarcho agreed.

In fact, when Sarcho reported about this initial meeting to the high priest, the priest laughed. The high priest was convinced that these individuals were surely plotting a larger revolution and were cautious and deceiving Sarcho, and Sarcho also had some doubts.𝑖𝘳𝑎.𝒸ℴ𝘮.

Sarcho supported this small gathering with the power and resources of the temple. Sarcho printed and funded the distribution of a booklet explaining the moderate revolutionary faction, as well as helped them in not being caught by the officers. Of course, this information not only reached the officers, but also the temple and the Fang agents. However, since it was for the greater purpose of catching the larger revolutionary forces, Sarcho’s actions were naturally allowed.

Initially, Sarcho thought such a minor gathering wouldn’t be a significant issue, but its size grew day by day, at a pace that could be described as exponential. While the revolutionary faction started with a mere seven members in the first gathering, by about a month later, dozens of revolutionary workers emerged in each factory. Roughly estimating, close to a thousand workers had joined the revolutionary faction.

In response, the high priest acted as if it was all natural.

“I knew it. That guy Garil was hiding the numbers of the revolutionaries.”

“You could see things that way, but isn’t it possible that the revolutionary booklets we printed with the temple’s money helped…?”

The high priest insisted that it wasn’t the case several times, but eventually said, “Hmph, well, even if that’s the case, it doesn’t matter. After all, we’ve identified those who would have become revolutionaries in the future, haven’t we?”

Sarcho felt that the growth of the revolutionary faction was incredibly fast and wondered if in a few more months, all the laborers in the city might join them.

“Don’t worry, Sarcho. They’ve grown in number now, so they’ll act soon. All we have to do is catch them when they do.”

This turned out to be true.

In the next meeting, Garil said to Sarcho, “Priest, it seems the time has finally come.”

“The time?” Sarcho asked back.

“The mayor is planning to give a speech in the square during the upcoming unity festival.”

Sarcho was nervous. The square was an open space, meaning anyone could approach the mayor. There was a large podium, so anyone could potentially shoot the mayor if they stood there.

‘Security will be there, but if multiple attackers were present, that would be troublesome.’

Sarcho said, “So it’s an assassination, right?”

At that, Garil laughed.

“Oh my, Priest. Your joke is too much. What would make us different from the extremists then? If the mayor dies, who would govern our city?”

“But isn’t that the best way to show your influence?”

“If that was the case, we would’ve used the money you gave us to buy guns, not print booklets. We just need people to hear our voice and agree with us.”

“…Then what do you plan on doing?”

Garil responded, “When the time comes, we can raise our voice and let the mayor know our intentions. They will surely listen!”

What Garil was talking about was ultimately a demonstration. They would hold banners and pickets, loudly demanding higher wages or longer lunch breaks, but that was it.

Even when Garil mentioned they needed money to produce these banners, Sarcho remained doubtful until the end. However, on the day of the unity festival, seeing the revolutionaries gather in the streets, Sarcho realized Garil was telling the truth.

Having frequently visited the revolutionary’s hideout, Sarcho knew that their numbers and faces hadn’t changed. Moreover, there wasn’t even a single person carrying a sword, let alone guns. About 300 of them had taken to the street, not the entire faction, but certainly a number that would catch one’s attention.

“Do you think it’ll work?”

“Yes. We’ve written the messages big enough, so the mayor won’t miss them.”

The demonstration began before the official unity festival. Sarcho, using the excuse of wearing a priest’s robe, kept a fair distance from the demonstration and followed them from behind.

‘In the end, the High Priest and the Fang agents have been fooled. All that effort and money for such a minor event.’

Sarcho had already informed the high priest about the protest. If things went according to Sarcho’s expectations, they would voice their concerns to the mayor and would likely be dispersed by the nearby guards.

‘I hope that at least some of Garil’s opinions will be considered during this process.’

From what Sarcho had seen until now, Garil appeared to be a good young man. He was shy when speaking for himself, but when it came to others, his voice was louder than anyone else’s.

While Sarcho held negative opinions about the revolutionaries, Sarcho still hoped that some of the demands made by Garil and his colleagues would be accepted. Sarcho even planned to suggest the demands to the high priest later on.

Then, a group of people approached the demonstrators. Sarcho noticed them from a distance.

‘The guards are already here? That was quick.’

But they weren’t guards. They were soldiers armed with guns.

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