When the land-vehicle pulled into the station in Eisenwald, Egbert almost thought he'd come to the wrong place.
He had been here once before, back when it was under Otto's rule.
The Eisenwald of his memory was a place of overflowing sewage, its streets filled with the sour stench of poverty and disease.
But the scene before him completely overturned his perception.
The station itself was a brand-new three-story building, with enormous glass windows that made the main hall bright and airy.
Janitors in uniform blue overalls were pushing wheeled water tanks, cleaning the polished concrete floor.
The air held none of the expected stench, only the faint smell of disinfectant and... the aroma of food drifting from a distance.
Stepping out of the station, Egbert stood in the wide square, momentarily dazed.
The streets had been replanned, wide enough for four horse-drawn carriages to travel side-by-side.
The road surface was so smooth it reminded him of the grand avenue before the imperial palace in Trullinczentyr.
Along both sides of the street, rows of four and five-story red brick buildings stood in neat, uniform lines. Every unit had bright glass windows and balconies extending from the walls, some even adorned with a few potted green plants.
These were no slums; this was clearly the kind of respectable housing only the middle class in the capital could afford!
Every so often, sanitation workers in uniform would push covered garbage carts, sweeping up the few scattered leaves by the roadside.
A few children with canvas schoolbags on their backs ran laughing and chasing each other across the street. Their cheeks were rosy and full of life, a world apart from the numb orphans he had imagined.
Egbert took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down.
This must be a sham!
A model project meticulously crafted by Lacey!
The real slums must be hidden behind these glamorous buildings!
He tugged the brim of his hat down, avoiding the main road and turning into a relatively narrow alley.
However, the alley was just as clean. There was no piled-up trash, no filth staining the corners of the walls.
He even saw a wooden sign hanging on a wall that read, "Model Hygiene Alley."
Below it was a line of small text:
"Person in Charge: Verne."
He felt a sense of absurdity.
He wandered aimlessly, trying to find the decay that matched his expectations.
Eventually, the aroma of food led him to a place with a sign that read "Third Workers' Canteen."
The canteen was a massive hall filled with hundreds of long tables.
It was lunchtime, and the place was buzzing with voices.
Workers in various colored overalls stood in long lines, exchanging meal vouchers imprinted with the Workers' Party emblem for food on their trays.
Egbert walked up to the serving window and saw the day's menu:
Stewed meat with potatoes, cabbage salad, two thick slices of black bread, and a large bowl of steaming meat broth.
In an ordinary restaurant in Trullinczentyr, a meal like this would cost at least a silver coin.
But here, it only required one meal voucher.
He had no voucher, so he took out a silver coin, intending to buy a meal from the plump auntie behind the window.
The auntie glanced at him, then at his respectable attire, and shook her head. "Sir, we only accept meal vouchers here. We don't sell to the public."
"If you're a visitor, you can go to the guest house at the corner of the street. They have a restaurant specifically for travelers."
Egbert had been rebuffed.
He had no choice but to step aside and find a corner to observe.
He saw the workers eating heartily, their faces beaming with satisfaction.
They talked animatedly as they ate.
"Hey, Verne! Your mine exceeded its production quota again this month, right? Heard you got a hefty bonus!"
A man in textile worker's overalls shouted to a sturdy man beside him.
The man named Verne was the same one whose name Egbert had seen on the alley wall.
With his mouth full of meat, he answered indistinctly, "You bet! Lord Lacey said, the more you work, the more you get!"
"We're not slaving away for some noble lord; we're working for ourselves!"
"With this month's bonus, I'm planning to get my wife a few yards of new cloth and buy my boy a copy of 'Introduction to Machine Principles'!"
Egbert's heart sank.
He quietly moved closer, pretending to be waiting for someone, and pricked up his ears.
"Speaking of which, Captain Markus really had foresight," another worker chimed in.
"If he hadn't led everyone to seek out Lord Lacey back then, who knows where we'd be now, getting whipped by Otto's foremen!"
Verne swallowed the food in his mouth and nodded forcefully, his eyes shining.
"Isn't that the truth! I still remember the day Lord Lacey's army marched into our village!"
"Those banners, that army, tsk tsk!"
"Captain Markus was standing on a vehicle, shouting 'We've returned to liberate Wasser Fief!' I started crying right then and there."
"I've lived half my life, and that was the first time I knew that we workers could have our own army."
"And now Captain Markus is a Battalion Commander in the Guard Corps, in charge of several hundred men!"
"He deserves it! That's an honor he earned!"
In their conversation, whenever they mentioned "Lord Lacey," their tone was natural and affectionate.
There was no fear at all, only reverence and trust, as if they were talking about a respected patriarch.
Egbert's mouth felt dry.
He left the canteen and walked out onto the street, where he saw a shop with a sign that read "Public Bookstore."
He walked in and was greeted by rows of neat bookshelves.
There were quite a few people in the bookstore: young men in work clothes, women with their children, and even a few gray-haired old men wearing reading glasses, reading quietly.
The variety of books here was vast. There were technical manuals like "Steelmaking Handbook" and "Machine Maintenance Guide," agricultural books like "Crop Improvement and Pest Control," as well as literary works like poetry collections and novels, and even the script for a new opera composed by Lady Arturia.
Of course, the most prominent display was reserved for different editions of "My Struggle."
There was a hardcover edition, a paperback edition, and even a pocket-sized, simplified version specifically for workers to carry with them.
A young clerk saw Egbert and approached with a smile.
"Sir, are you looking for a particular book?"
"I'm... just browsing." Egbert pointed to the technical manuals.
"Do people buy these books?"
"Of course!" A look of pride appeared on the clerk's face. "These are our bestsellers!"
"There are night schools and technical training classes popping up all over Eisenwald now. The workers are all scrambling to learn!"
"Workers with higher technical ratings get much better wages and benefits."
"Everyone says that knowledge is power. Lord Lacey said that at the First Congress of the Workers' Party."
"Lord Lacey..." Egbert struggled to get the name out. "You all... support him very much?"
The clerk looked as if he'd been asked a strange question. He adjusted his glasses and looked at Egbert earnestly. "Sir, you must not be from around here, are you?"
"In Wasser Fief, there is no one who does not support Lord Lacey."
"He is not a noble. He's one of us, from a commoner background."
"He's the one who let us, the mud-legged rabble at the very bottom, live like human beings for the first time."
"He gave us land, he gave us jobs, he gave us full meals and new clothes, and he lets our children go to school for free."
"He overthrew Otto and hung those bloodsucking merchants on the gallows."
"And he told us that we are not slaves, that we are the masters of Wasser Fief."
The clerk's voice wasn't loud, but every word was firm and resonant.
He pointed to the bright sunlight outside the window.
"Before Lord Lacey came, the sky in Wasser Fief was always gray."
"It was he who, like the sun, illuminated this land!"
As he finished speaking, the clerk's eyes even grew slightly moist. He took off his glasses and wiped his eyes with his sleeve.
Egbert was silent.
He didn't stay long and walked out of the bookstore.
The sunlight shone on him, but he felt a chill.
His pride in his insight, the professional judgment he relied on for his survival, had been shattered to pieces on the streets of Eisenwald.
This place was the complete opposite of the desolate scene he had imagined.
Instead, it was like... a nascent utopia?
A wave of panic washed over him.
If everything he saw was real, then how was he supposed to report back to his superiors?
That Lacey was a wise and brilliant leader, deeply loved by his people?
That Wasser Fief was thriving under his governance?
No, that's impossible.
He shook his head forcefully.
It must be a facade, a deception on a much grander scale!
He had to find the flaws, had to find the shadows hiding beneath this veneer of light.
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