Night fell on Eisenwald, and the beer hall was buzzing with activity.
The air inside was thick with the aroma of ale, the scent of roasting meat, and the coarse laughter of men.
Egbert found an inconspicuous corner to sit in and ordered a glass of the strongest gin.
The stinging liquid slid down his throat, burning his esophagus, yet it couldn't dispel the chill and confusion in his heart.
He was like a drowning man, desperately trying to grasp at a lifeline amidst the surrounding clamor—some discontent, some complaint, any proof that this place was not the paradise it seemed.
And then he heard it.
"...Those people from the Ministry of Economy are completely insane!"
"A bottle of red wine imported from Siracusa, and the luxury consumption tax alone took thirty percent! How is anyone supposed to live?"
A man in a vest who looked like a wealthy merchant was complaining loudly to his companion.
His companion pursed his lips. "You think that's bad? My shop that makes hats for noble ladies—the profit adjustment fee I paid last month made my heart ache."
"That woman, Leinia, she's shrewder with her abacus than anyone!"
"Shh! Keep it down!" The rich merchant glanced around nervously.
"Do you want that group to hear you?"
Egbert's interest was piqued. That group?
It sounded like a secret intelligence organization.
He nonchalantly moved his glass a little closer and continued to listen.
"What's there to be afraid of!"
The complaining merchant took a swig of his drink and lowered his voice, but his indignation was undiminished.
"We pay our taxes on time, and we haven't done anything illegal! But these days, business is getting harder and harder!"
"In the past, you could slip some gold coins to Lord Otto's steward and any permit was easy to get. But now?"
"These people are incorruptible, hard as stone. You want to pull some strings? Not a chance!"
"Tell me about it!"
"But then again..." His companion changed the subject. "The orders for my textile factories have actually doubled this month."
"The Picket Team... oh, no, they're called the Guard Corps now."
"They placed a large order for new military uniforms."
"And the new schools that have opened also need standardized school uniforms."
"That's real business, right there."
"That is true..." The rich merchant's expression softened a little.
"I heard that for the newly planned canal project, Lord Richter's chamber of commerce has already secured some of the material supply contracts."
"That's a huge order!"
"So, stop complaining."
"The times have changed, and the ways to make money have to change with them."
"As long as you don't cross the red lines Lord Lacey has drawn, there are still good days ahead!"
The two men's conversation gradually shifted to how to adapt to the new policies and find new business opportunities.
Egbert disappointedly withdrew his attention.
He had found complaints, but the root of these complaints was not oppression and exploitation, but the loss of old privileges.
They were dissatisfied because they could no longer make exorbitant profits through bribery and monopoly as they had in the past.
And even these disgruntled merchants admitted that massive business opportunities still existed under the new order.
This was not the shadow he was looking for at all.
Just as he was about to give up, finish his drink, and go back to sleep, the conversation of a few workers at the next table caught his attention.
"Tomorrow, that bastard is going before the special tribunal!"
"Serves him right! When that guy was a foreman under Otto, he had the blood of so many brothers on his hands!"
"Docking wages, forcing sick workers down into the pits, and even cutting corners on safety supports just to meet deadlines!"
"I heard it was his corner-cutting that led to the collapse of Mine Shaft Five, killing seven people!"
"At the time, Otto's guards hushed it up. Nothing happened to him, and he even got a big bonus!"
"What goes around comes around! Now it's our time! I have to be there tomorrow to see him put on trial!"
A special tribunal!
Egbert's spirits lifted.
This was exactly what he was looking for!
He was certain that this so-called special tribunal was just a tool for Lacey to eliminate dissenters and intimidate the populace.
It would be a savage and bloody spectacle, a mob's carnival.
He had to witness it firsthand, to record this most authentic and ugliest of scenes.
...
Early the next morning, Egbert rushed to the City Square.
A high platform had already been erected in the square, with only a table and a few chairs on it.
Behind the platform hung a Workers' Party flag.
Hundreds, even thousands, of people had already gathered below, most of them workers, their faces filled with anticipation and anger.
Egbert squeezed into the crowd, watching coldly from the sidelines.
The trial began.
A middle-aged man with a resolute face, wearing a judge's robe, walked onto the platform.
He was a former lawyer who had been suppressed during Otto's era for sympathizing with the workers' movement and was now appointed as the chief judge of the special tribunal.
The defendant, a stout man named Kash, was escorted up by two members of the Guard Corps.
His face was pale, his legs were weak, and his former ferocity was long gone.
The judge struck his gavel, and his voice carried across the square through a simple Originium-powered loudspeaker:
"Today, the People's Special Tribunal will hold a public trial for the case of Kash, former foreman of Sector Three of the Blackrock Mines!"
There were no lawyers, no defense.
The form of the trial was simple and crude.
Victims, witnesses, and a jury of workers' representatives could come directly onto the stage to make accusations.
The first to take the stage was a man with a missing arm.
He pointed at Kash, his voice trembling. "It was him!"
"Three years ago, my hand was caught in the rock crusher because he removed the safety guard just to save money!"
"I was maimed, but he turned it around and blamed me for an operational error, and had me thrown out of the mines!"
The second to come up was a frail woman, clutching a memorial tablet and sobbing uncontrollably. "My husband... he died in the collapse of Mine Shaft Five!"
"The day before the accident, he told me that Kash was forcing them to dig in a nearly abandoned tunnel because the support beams there had long since rotted!"
"Kash killed him!"
"He docked our wages! And used the money to gamble!"
"I saw him with my own eyes, whipping a boy who was only twelve, just because the kid was exhausted and dozed off!"
One by one, workers took the stage, their tearful and bloody accusations echoing across the square.
The crowd's emotions ignited, and roars of anger rose one after another.
"Hang him!"
"Make him pay in blood!"
Egbert tightened his grip on the notebook hidden in his sleeve, a thrill running through him.
Here it was, the moment he had been waiting for!
A mob trial, a lynching in the name of 'the people'!
Kash collapsed to the ground, begging for mercy through his tears and snot. "It wasn't me! It was all Lord Otto's orders!"
"I was just following orders! I was forced to do it!"
He tried to defend himself with the logic of the old world.
Here, however, that excuse seemed utterly feeble.
The judge looked at him coldly, his voice devoid of any emotion. "Following orders? When the overseer's whip strikes another man's back, does that man not feel pain?"
"And the gold coins you docked from their wages, did they not end up in your own pocket?"
"You weren't an accomplice; you were the crime itself!"
The judge turned to the incensed crowd and raised a hand for silence.
"Compatriots! I know your anger!"
"But we are not Otto! We are not those butchers who only know how to solve problems with slaughter!"
His words instantly silenced the clamorous square.
"Hanging him would be too easy," the judge's voice turned icy.
"He likes sending others down into the mines, doesn't he? He likes watching others struggle in despair, doesn't he?"
The judge struck his gavel and announced the verdict:
"In the name of the People's Special Tribunal, I declare that the criminal Kash is stripped of his position as foreman and all illicit gains!"
"He is sentenced to twenty years of labor reform in Blackrock Mines, Shaft Seven!"
"There, with his own two hands, he will atone for the sins he has committed!"
"No parole, no commutation!"
"Until, with his own sweat and labor, he truly understands the meaning of the word 'people'!"
Hearing this verdict, the crowd was stunned for a moment, then erupted in cheers even more fervent than their earlier calls for his hanging.
"Long live Lord Lacey!"
"Long live Lord Lacey!"
This was clearly more satisfying, more in line with their simple sense of justice.
Egbert's smile froze on his face.
The bloody carnival he had anticipated never happened.
The trial process was objective and fair, with nothing to criticize.
Lost in the cheering crowd, Egbert felt confused once more.
How on earth was he supposed to write his report?
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