"George! Stop spacing out at your workbench—it's almost time to eat!"
The young man called George felt a heavy slap on his shoulder. Jolted awake as if from a dream, he turned to look at his coworker, Howard, who was clutching a stack of this morning's Kingdom Morning Post.
Howard grinned. "Hurry up, let's see what news there is today."
George nodded hurriedly in agreement and followed behind him. Many other workers rose from their stations as well, their faces beaming with anticipation.
Poor workers like them naturally didn't have the spare coin to buy newspapers. To make matters worse, the Kingdom Morning Post was the most expensive paper in the realm—reading material reserved for well-off burghers. A single copy cost several copper coins, nearly half a day's wages for George.
Howard had only gotten his hands on it because he ran errands to fetch the paper for the factory supervisor.
And as a reward, the workers were permitted to stand by and listen to their hearts' content while the scribe read it aloud.
"Hurry it up!"
"You expect me to come down and get it myself?"
A gruff, booming roar drifted down from the upper floor.
The workers' supervisor was naturally the manager of this food-processing factory, but his identity was rather peculiar: he was an ogre named "Datou," reputedly a trusted subordinate of Chief Minister Langpu. The entire factory held him in great awe—though "fear" made up by far the greater share of it.
When he first arrived, George had trembled so violently at the sight of the ogre supervisor that he nearly wet himself, terrified the brute might fly into a rage and devour him.
Yet as time went on, he gradually grew accustomed to it. He no longer found it strange that a three-meter-tall ogre walked the factory floors; if anything, he had come to view it as completely natural.
Lord Datou enjoys lavish feasts of fish and meat all day long—why would he want to eat a scrawny bag of bones like me?
George often thought to himself.
"My Lord, here is today's paper."
"Now beat it!"
Bowing and scraping, Howard delivered the newspaper into the supervisor's office and was promptly barked out.
Yet there wasn't the slightest hint of annoyance on his face. Instead, he stood in place listening eagerly, and the other workers did the same, crowding in a tight bunch outside the doorway.
"Stop shoving!"
"I was here first! He was saving my spot!"
George squeezed his way in as well, using Howard's help to secure a good spot.
Before long, the scribe's clear voice rang out from within the office, and the listeners instantly pricked up their ears.
The Kingdom Daily was rich in content, spanning domestic policy changes to bizarre happenings across the realm, but what they loved hearing most were the jokes in the humor column. Those often had them slapping the floor with laughter and roaring in delight. This was one of the few forms of entertainment in the workers' otherwise stagnant lives, and listening to the paper was the hour they looked forward to most each day.
"Commander Duoluo conducts joint drills on the city outskirts..."
"Kingdom economic growth reaches an all-time high..."
"Lord Langpu delivers important directives to further integrate magic with industry..."
Howard grumbled, "Why is today's so long? I really wish the lords writing these papers would cut back on this boring nonsense."
George whispered a reminder, "We're lucky to get to listen at all. Don't disturb Lord Supervisor."
Sure enough, before the words had completely left his mouth, an impatient roar came from the ogre inside the office: "Do you bastards want to listen or not?! Make another sound and I'll kick you all the hell out!"
George shrank his neck back sheepishly and continued to listen closely.
"Yesterday, two brave citizens acted with righteous courage, reporting spies from the Principality of Bosque to the realm, and received commendations personally bestowed by Lord Langpu.
"As a reward for their loyalty, they were granted fifty gold coins, a luxury residence in downtown Northwind Keep, and the precious opportunity to receive the blessing of the dragon bloodline. Citizens, this paper solemnly reminds you: defending the kingdom is everyone's responsibility!"
Howard marveled, "Tsk, tsk, look at those lucky bastards. I hear folks who get dragon bloodline can live past a hundred. Compared to that, even the gold coins and the house are nothing."
The workers buzzed with chatter, their voices thick with undisguised envy.
"Yeah, if only I caught a spy."
"If that were me, I wouldn't be slaving away here anymore! I'd take those gold coins, buy a storefront, and make bank running a business!"
"Heh, keep dreaming."
George didn't join in this grand, fanciful discussion; he merely committed the news quietly to memory.
Soon, the workers' favorite little column arrived. They promptly threw the earlier topic to the back of their minds, listening to the jokes with flushed, eager faces.
"A boy was possessed by a devil, so he went to House Lakeman's church for an exorcism.
"The priest shouted: 'Damned devil, get out of this child's body!'
"The devil replied: 'You're the one who should get out!'"
"Hahahahaha!"
The workers erupted into boisterous laughter, and the crude, braying laughter of the ogre rumbled from inside the office as well. This was one of the rare moments when the workers could let loose without restraint.
Howard doubled over with laughter, slapping the floor.
"Those church bigwigs really had no shame! No wonder they got kicked out!"
Yet George was still dwelling deeply on the previous news item. He hadn't heard what the scribe said at all, so he could only mimic his coworkers' laughing expressions to blend into the lively atmosphere.
...
The workers labored until late, only getting off shift once pitch darkness fell.
George bade farewell to a few familiar coworkers and trudged down the street alone, dragging his exhausted body. The pedestrians coming and going had already thinned to a trickle.
"Another day done."
George licked his lips, as if savoring the lingering taste of the "mush" he had eaten for dinner.
He lived in the crudest basement in the city. A cramped room only a few meters across was crammed with more than a dozen people, but that was all he could afford.
George was one of tens of thousands of emancipated serfs. Three years ago, he had come to Northwind Keep to seek his fortune, and to this day he remained completely alone in the world.
His mother had frozen to death during a bitter winter a decade ago, and his father had starved to death in a famine six years back. He felt little sorrow over this, for such things were commonplace on the manors. Back then, he had been nothing more than an insignificant piece of "gray cattle," living a numb existence every day, worrying only about his own survival.
Now, having come to Northwind Keep, he had seen many new wonders, filled his belly, and found a few new hopes.
Lord Datou had once uttered a profound truth: "Once a man fills his belly, he starts thinking about women."
George agreed wholeheartedly and took it deeply to heart.
He stole covert glances at the houses lining the road. In the brightly lit windows, silhouettes sat across from one another alongside the small, delicate figures of children—families enjoying wonderful candlelit dinners.
George dearly wanted a home of his own in Northwind Keep.
But that remained nothing more than a thought in his head.
He knew all too well that on his meager wages, it was nothing short of a pipe dream.
Chapter 239