Chapter 82
“How does it feel to be in the capital?”
“Dizzying, honestly. I didn’t expect teleportation to give me such a headache.”
“That’s a common reaction for first-timers. You’ll get used to it with time.”
Top floor of the Mage Tower Temple.
The view of the capital from the reception room just outside the headquarters of Karma Company was enough to overwhelm even the most seasoned Labor Advocates .
Seeing the Labor Advocates idly holding their tea, staring blankly at the view, Jonathan Karma chuckled.
“It is an impressive sight. Most people are stunned.”
“It is surprising. I didn’t expect you’d have the technology to build something so tall.”
Karl Lenaro nodded in genuine agreement.
Jonathan grinned at that.
“I can show you something even more surprising, if you’d like. Care to see?”
“I’d love to. What is it?”′
“Follow me. I think it’s time for a tour of the slums.”
Jonathan and his wife, Olivier, exited the Mage Tower Temple with the Labor Advocates in tow.
And soon, they began touring the various districts of the slums.
As the tour progressed, the jaws of the Labor Advocates dropped lower and lower.
“This… this is the slums?”
Smoothly paved brick roads.
Neatly constructed residential blocks.
Walls adorned with murals that looked like they were commissioned from real artists.
“They were slums. Before the Saint appeared, this was the poorest area in the capital.”
“This place? Really?”
“Yes, truly. Come now. Let me show you the capital’s workers in action.”
Jonathan Karma took the Labor Advocates through companies operating within the slums, showing them the working conditions firsthand.
And what they saw stunned them even further.
“They start work at 9 AM and finish at 6 PM. Lunch break is from 12 to 1. We have a separate night shift, and they start after dinner. Night shifts come with higher pay.”
“How much do they earn…?”
“30 Salreds a month. Night shift workers get 45 Salreds. That’s why more tend to volunteer for those shifts.”
“…I never thought I’d say this, but—how do you make a profit paying that much?”
“I provide the essential elixirs needed for factory operation to the companies here at half-price. So even with the raised wages, their losses are minimal.”
“My God… I never imagined businesses like this could exist…”
“Let’s keep going. Ah! That over there is a new tire factory that just opened. Shall we take a look?”
For the Labor Advocates, the slum tour was more than just eye-opening—it was downright world-shattering.
Not a single worker looked miserable.
They were all smiling.
They looked tired, yes, but the hope shining on their faces shocked the Labor Advocates more than anything else.
“…Would it be alright if we spent the rest of the day walking around on our own, Mr. Karma?”
Unable to fully believe what they’d seen, suspicion inevitably set in.
The Labor Advocates slipped away from Jonathan Karma and traveled all across the capital on their own, observing the working conditions.
And their conclusion?
Jonathan Karma had told no lies.
“It’s not just here. Even workers on the capital’s outskirts live similarly.”
“Eight-hour workdays, one-hour lunch breaks, high wages, job training—even saw a woman promoted over men just because she was more competent.”
“They promoted a woman over men??”
“They said they don’t care about gender. They promote based on ability. In all my years… I’ve never seen a capitalist act like this.”
“Karma Company was helping workers get bank support. They’d co-sign loans for homes, and even cover the interest themselves.”
“Workers were building homes they would one day own with their wages.”
“With higher salaries and access to housing loans, their standard of living is beyond anything we could’ve imagined.”
“There’s no child labor here. Instead, kids attend schools built by Karma Company and the Imperial Court. Trained teachers teach them reading, math, science, and even the basics of magic. And it’s all free.”
“They even provide free meals for the kids through a lunch program.”
The Labor Advocates were left utterly speechless.
Karl Lenaro let out a disbelieving chuckle after hearing it all.
“…Seems like there’s nothing left for us to fix here.”
“They’ve already achieved almost everything we’ve been demanding. We could literally write labor laws based on Karma Company’s operations and it would work just fine.”
Karl listened silently to the flood of testimonials.
“A capitalist should do what capitalists do. And we… should do our job.”
Only then did the words of the Saint finally resonate with Karl Lenaro.
“He said if we forget our compassion for the weak, we’ll end up being the ones who slaughter more workers than anyone else—all in the name of helping them.”
“Even if our revolution succeeded, could we have raised their living standards this high? I doubt it.”
“Would’ve been impossible. We’d have been too busy fighting capitalists to do any of this.”
Though their words were tinged with bitterness, their expressions were lighter than ever.
“We’ll go with what our comrades say. Let’s base the new labor laws on how Karma Company operates.”
“Let the capitalists do the work if it benefits the workers.”
“Our job is just to tear apart the ones who break that principle. That’s what we do best.”
At that moment, their mission had never been clearer.
They were hounds.
They were most alive when they were tearing into capitalists who strayed from their duty.
And so, they would continue to do just that.
The very next day.
“Wouldn’t you say this is enough?”
“There’s not much to change. We just follow the Karma Company model.”
Jonathan Karma and the Labor Advocates drafted the new labor law articles at record speed, with minimal friction.
After that, everything went smoothly.
The agreed-upon articles were submitted to the Senate, and after a swift review, they were passed without issue.
Of course, not everything passed exactly as requested.
“Department name… Ministry of Employment and Labor? That sounds so bland.”
“It lacks any sense of dignity. No weight at all.”
“We’ll need to give it a better name.”
The aristocrats ended up naming the new imperial administrative body the Labor Advocates would join.
Imperial Labor Office.
Department Operarium.
And as soon as the Senate approved the labor laws and the new department’s establishment, the Emperor summoned Karl Lenaro.
“Karl Lenaro.”
“At your command, Your Majesty!”
“By the authority of the new labor law, punish the illegal acts committed by the capitalists of Scrap Yard. Technically, the revised law cannot be applied retroactively, but by my decree, I grant an exception this once. Let this serve as a stern warning, so such things never happen again.”
At the Emperor’s words, Karl Lenaro clenched his fist.
So tightly, his knuckles turned white and nearly bled. His eyes, brimming with fury and ecstasy, looked up at the Emperor.
“I shall carry out your command.”
This was the moment of vengeance the Labor Advocates had long awaited.
The only difference now… was that it was all perfectly legal.
***
Despite the disappearance of Karl Lenaro and the senior Labor Advocates , the protests filling the Iron Road and the Square showed no signs of dying down.
“Punish Mayor Bias!!”
“Give us the dignity every human deserves!!”
“Prove that law and justice still exist in the Empire!! Punish the factory owners!! Punish them!!”
Chants rang out in unison, and at times the crowd would break into song together.
“Rise up, oppressed people!”
“Rise, slaves of hunger!!”
“There is no great savior to be found!!”
“No god, no emperor, no silver-tongued leader—workers, save your—”
“Comrade, uh… are we really allowed to sing those lyrics? I mean, the Saint and His Majesty are both on our side now…”
“Just skip that part and sing the rest!!”
They had to tweak the lyrics a bit, but even so—
Hundreds of thousands of workers from Scrap Yard filled the streets, chanting and singing in pursuit of their rights.
Karma Company kept them fed and sheltered. The Order of Grace healed the sick and offered comfort.
Forces from the Black Fortress and the Pantheon, led by IomeneFortress, ensured the protests stayed peaceful and well-coordinated.
And just over a week after the protests began—
Finally.
The Labor Advocates who had gone to the capital returned.
“Comrade Karl Lenaro is back!!”
The masses surged forward, all eager to catch a glimpse of him.
And the moment they saw Karl Lenaro and the other Labor Advocates—
Silence fell.
Their uniforms were neat, dignified, and commanding.
Emblazoned upon them were unmistakable symbols: a pickaxe and hammer, proudly displayed alongside the crest of the Arcarl Empire .
It meant one thing:
They were now an official, legally sanctioned branch of the imperial government—recognized by the Emperor himself.
Clad in uniforms that exuded unquestionable authority, the Labor Advocates made their way toward the central plaza.
Camera flashes burst from building windows and balconies, capturing every second.
“In the name of the Department Operarium, bring forth the factory owners. His Majesty has ordered their punishment.”
Princess IomeneFortress, who had been running the investigation from a headquarters tent in the plaza, handed over the detained factory owners without a word.
Soon after, the factory owners of Scrap Yard—hands cuffed—were dragged to the plaza, surrounded by inquisitors from the Black Fortress, Quattuor, and other holy orders.
“You bastards!!”
“Bring back my daughter!! Give me back my daughter, you animals!!”
“Punish them!! Show us that justice still lives!!”
Amidst the howls of rage from the workers, Karl Lenaro climbed atop a large ore-hauling lifter stationed in the square.
A fellow Labor Advocate handed him a declaration scroll with great care. Karl opened it with deliberate gravity.
Behind him, Erfa who had accompanied them to the capital—subtly cast a sound amplification spell.
Karl began to read.
“All of you stand accused of violating labor law—passed by His Imperial Majesty, Theovillo von Arcarl, and the noble council of the Senate. The charges are as follows!”
His voice, amplified by mages stationed in every district of the city, echoed throughout all of Scrap Yard.
Every worker protesting in the streets heard Karl Lenaro’s declaration in full.
“Child labor!! Negligence toward industrial accidents!! Wages far below the living standard!! Failure to provide protective equipment for miners and steelworkers!!”
One by one—
Dozens of charges were read out in detail.
As the list continued, some of the workers began to weep.
“Illegal interrogations!! Torture and abuse conducted without proper court orders!! Violent suppression of lawful protests!! Threats of termination!! Withholding wages!! And the mass cremation of bodies to destroy evidence after fatal workplace accidents without returning the deceased to their families!! In total, fifty-four charges. And on all counts—you are guilty!! We know it!! This city knows it!! Every worker who shed their blood and sweat in this city knows it!!”
Karl Lenaro turned to the factory owners—and to Mayor Bias, who stood at the front.
Still unable—or unwilling—to grasp the gravity of the situation, Bias laughed.
He laughed like it was all some kind of absurd joke.
So Karl Lenaro smiled right back at him.
“This will be the last time you ever see the sun from the surface.
Under labor law, you are hereby sentenced to life imprisonment with forced labor in a correctional colony!!”
A thunderous roar erupted from the workers.
It was loud enough to shake all of Scrap Yard.
Watching from a rooftop nearby, Al Madai approached IomeneFortress, who had been quietly observing everything.
“The workers are getting too fired up. Should we deploy the Quattuor to keep order?”
Iomene shook her head.
“No.”
She smiled.
“Don’t you get it? This is exactly why Father chose Operarium out of all the imperial branches to handle this. He wanted to show the people that the Crown hasn’t abandoned them. We can’t ruin this moment.”
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