I Became A Black Merchant In Another World-Chapter 336: I’ll be a mess (5)
The rural areas around Nance City were heavily impacted by the reform that drastically increased working hours.
Work had to be done 1.5 times more, but the amount the farmers could take home had not increased compared to before.
As a result, their bodies were exhausted, to the point where they felt they could collapse at any moment, and their lives were only getting worse and more miserable every day.
The serfs in the village of Renault were no exception to this phenomenon.
"This is going to kill us. What the hell ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) are we doing?"
"Shut up, Isaac. If you have time to complain, just work... work..."
"No, Arthur. Don’t you think this situation is awful? I feel like setting this place on fire right now."
Isaac, a young serf from Renault, kept spouting radical words, much like the agitators Fabio had sent.
However, these thoughts were not instilled by the likes of Karl Marx, who had been sent here.
After working 12 hours a day, from 5 AM to 6 PM, his anger had naturally settled in his heart as he was ground down by the relentless labor.
‘How is it possible that I’ve lost the desire to even chat while doing hard farm work?’
In the past, while working the fields, it was traditional to gossip about the village chief, the fools who did stupid things, or even the nobles themselves...
But now, with both his body and mind at their limit, even casual conversation had become a chore.
Of course, even though he had grown tired of it, he couldn’t completely stop himself from talking, because without even that, it felt like he would go mad.
"This is a damn country, really."
"Well, what can we do? The high-ranking ones can’t stand seeing us just sitting around and eating."
"Deus, please, take us out of this hell."
"Deus doesn’t listen to prayers from serfs like us, Isaac. Stop making useless prayers and just get your hands moving."
When they only worked 8 hours a day, though they didn’t have much food, they didn’t feel the need to give up on everything and throw in the towel.
But now, after being ground down by the labor, their bodies were unhealthy, and their spirits were slowly wearing out.
At that moment, Isaac heard the priest's encouraging words.
"Brothers, cheer up! Deus will never let your hardship and effort go to waste! You will definitely be rewarded!"
Isaac wanted to kill the priest.
It was hard enough working to the point of exhaustion, and what kind of reward is he talking about?
Before any reward could come, Isaac felt like he would die at any moment.
"Deus said that man can only reap from the land through hard labor. So, we must sweat more and work harder, and in doing so, we will harvest more than before. Just a little more effort, brothers."
The priest’s shouting was because the nobles, more specifically the high-ranking officials in the fief, had ordered him to do so.
Friedrich Engels had advised the Finance Minister on how to increase the efficiency of serfs and workers, and the nobles, deeply impressed by his advice, thought:
‘Ah, if we work the serfs harder, taxes will multiply!’
But without even giving the serfs the slightest motivation, they ordered the priests to say these kinds of things to encourage them to work harder.
Though the nobles thought they were doing a good thing, from the perspective of the people working, it was pure nonsense.
"That priest doesn’t even do farm work and is spouting this nonsense."
"By the way, I heard there’s a kid at the village orphanage who looks a lot like the priest..."
"Can priests even have children?"
"Now that you mention it, Emma became a nun about 8 months ago. Could it be because she had the priest's child?"
"That poor Liam, who was in love with Emma, must be heartbroken."
"That guy’s leaving for the city next week, looking for a new love."
Isaac, exhausted physically and mentally worn out, was releasing his anger through gossip, just to survive.
If someone would just push him a little further, give him a goal, any kind of goal, he might have the courage to stand up, but for now, he didn’t have the strength to rise.
Then, the church bell rang.
It was the bell signaling the end of the day’s farming work.
Normally, they would cheer, celebrating the end of their toil, but Isaac, holding his farming tools, began trudging away.
It was time to go out and clear the wasteland.
This content is taken from fгeewebnovёl.com.
"I want to die... what the hell is this?"
If you are reading this translation anywhere other than Novelight.net or SilkRoadTL, it has been stolen.
If they could expand the village’s fields by clearing wasteland, their lives would get a little better.
No, it would improve visibly.
Even though 70% of their taxes would be taken, by expanding the fields, they would still get more food.
"We still have to live. As long as we live, there’s something to do."
When the serfs of the village gathered together, the village chief sighed and gave them new orders.
"Lord Bailiff has ordered us to clear this field within the next month."
Everyone muttered curses under their breath.
Clear this vast, rocky land in a month?
It was utter nonsense.
But the words of those in power were absolute. No one knew what would happen if they didn’t follow orders.
They wouldn’t be executed at the guillotine, but the probability of suffering something so terrible that death would seem better was very high.
"So, from now on, you all have to plow this field for 6 hours a day. Otherwise, it won’t get done."
"Does this even make sense? We’re all going to die doing this."
"Do you think I want to say this? I don’t want to either."
"Chief, but... the Bailiff says the officials above are pressuring him, so what am I supposed to do?"
Tears were falling from the chief’s eyes.
"Do you think I like working with you all, at 60 years old? My body aches to the point I feel like I’m dying! But orders are orders. If we don’t follow them, we’re all dead! I’ll record what you’ve done today and come back to help. Just work hard and do your best."
Hearing this, everyone grabbed their farming tools and began working hard to clear the land.
They picked stones, cleared the gravel, and plowed the earth with their hoes.
On the side, they began digging the necessary irrigation channels.
After working for over 8 hours, they were all nearly dead, but now they were told to clear more land.
‘Is this what hell is like?’
Among the people trapped in this labor hell, Karl Marx, one of Fabio’s agitators, spoke up.
"Ha, no matter how much we clear, it’s all for nothing."
"...What do you mean by that?"
"I heard from a peddler that if we increase the crops we harvest by clearing the land, they’re going to raise the taxes even more."
Isaac and the others were stunned.
What they were doing now was already miserable.
But now they realized that no matter how much they worked, things wouldn’t get any better.
Their anger turned toward Friedrich, who had told them this shocking truth (or fake news).
"Stop talking nonsense! No way would the high-ranking officials raise the taxes here!"
Karl grinned as he saw their anger.
Everything was going according to plan.
‘Once the complaints build up, I told you they’d all get angry when I told them a believable lie.’
And getting angry was a way to escape from the painful truth, as Fabio had taught.
The Rothschild Count, who had promoted a mere serf like him and treated him lavishly...
Karl, whose throat was almost choked with the Count’s warm affection, calmly continued speaking, unaffected by their anger.
"Think about it. If the Baron or the other nobles truly cared about us, would they have just increased our working hours without any solutions?"
"Well... but... still, the Baron cares about us..."
"From the nobles’ perspective, we’re just talking cattle. When they need soldiers for war, they draft us as adults, and after that, we’re just used as farm labor. To be blunt, what has the lord done for us? When a famine threatens, he gives us a little food and saves the village, but that’s it."
If public sentiment hadn’t been so bad, Karl would probably have been beaten to death for saying such things.
Who would dare speak ill of our lord?
But no one here could rebut his words.
Not being able to refute meant they agreed with him.
"If we keep going like this, aren’t we all going to die?"
Isaac, who had the most complaints, agreed with that statement.
"Yeah, if we keep going like this, it really feels like we’ll die..."
"Let’s go visit the Bailiff after mass on Sunday. Let’s tell him we can’t live like this."
Everyone here agreed to that.
And as soon as Sunday came, they all went to visit the Bailiff.
