EP.251 Backdoor of the Mind
Right now, no one is binding these laborers. What binds them are the rules created by the Military Nation, or rather, fear. In other words, it means their restraints don't actually exist.
"Let me tell you. We are charging into the Military Nation's headquarters. While destroying the Military Nation's assets, we also need to tie down their movements, right?"
I walk slowly and tap the closest autocarriage in the hangar.
"If you don't take these autocarriages and run away, I'll have no choice but to destroy these precious autocarriages you shed blood and sweat to make, one by one?"
A flustered emotion spreads among them. It is the attitude of, 'What do we care if you destroy the autocarriages?' A positive reaction.
The bolt of the mind is not just one. It is closer to an iron fortress with dozens of gates. Even if one door is shut tight, if you slightly open the back door, everyone can slip out. 'To have nothing to do with it' means this is a door without a bolt.
"Let me put it differently. If you want to preserve the autocarriages, quickly board them and move them to a safe place. If not, like this."
Snap, the moment I flick my finger, the body of the autocarriage crumples miserably.
"Kyaaah!"
Someone's scream echoes. It is that horrific of a sight. The darkness surrounding the autocarriage wraps around the body like a snake, gradually tightens, and sinks sharp fangs into it.
Broken gears scatter like internal organs. It seems as if the alchemical steel is reverting to its days as an ingot.
"Do I really have to break them one by one? I'm a worker just like you, so I want to reduce work as much as possible."
Of course, I didn't do it. I just borrowed Tir's power for a moment. But in their eyes, it must look like I am controlling this darkness.
"You're too much! The autocarriage we put so much effort into making!"
"By any chance, are there any kind souls here who would lessen my toil of having to destroy all of these one by one?"
As I clench my fist and shake it, Tir, seeing that, mimics the same action with the darkness. The autocarriage sways back and forth, vomiting out parts even more violently.
"Or should we do irrational labor where I break them on one side, and you gather the better parts to make new ones on the other, breaking on one side and fixing on the other?"
They cannot escape. Because the Military Nation has bound their minds. They planted fear and terror in them, threatening to inflict even more horrific punishments if they arbitrarily left their workplace.
Therefore, the backdoor I'm creating is not leaving the workplace.
It's reducing their workload.
"Alright! Let's form a labor union! We're all laborers who don't want to work, right?! Let's compromise: I won't break them, and you won't make them! Move the autocarriages to a safe place! Since we devastated most of the bases on our way up north, those places will be empty! You can just park them there for a bit!"
Someone with a rag wrapped around her head is the first to jump up and run toward the autocarriage. Clank, as she boards the autocarriage first and turns the thunderwheel, with the clicking sound of gears meshing, the autocarriage begins to move.
"...We can't let them be destroyed."
"Yeah. If we have to make them again. Rather..."
The first time is the hardest, but once the dam bursts, the rest flows naturally. The laborers, who were looking at each other, quickly nod and slowly get up. They let out their minds through the backdoor I have prepared.
Following their minds, their bodies also go outside. Because the chains that bind them only held their minds in the first place.
"Huh? What's that?"
Clank, clank.
The sight of the laborers and numerous autocarriages fleeing into the darkness is quite a spectacle.
It's not big enough to make the nation teeter, but it would be a loss hard to ignore for the Military Nation. Pride swells up at the fact that I have stolen the Military Nation's taxes.
Just then, the Regressor, who has finished destroying the factory and returned, widens her eyes seeing the hangar where people are escaping.
"Where are the autocarriages that were here?"
I pat the last remaining one and say.
"It's fine. I left the last one here. The best one."
"What about the laborers? They acted like they'd burn with the factory if it caught fire. Did you help them escape?"
"Escape? That's absurd. They merely participated in an active evacuation effort to protect the Military Nation's assets, the autocarriages."
"What. That's the same thing."
"It's different."
I may have left the back door open, but the chains still remain. Some laborers will enjoy their long-lost freedom and quickly run away, but a few might linger nearby without leaving the headquarters.
That's actually more dangerous. Both for themselves and for the Military Nation.
"From the Military Nation's perspective, they'd hate guys who pointlessly loiter nearby even more than laborers who completely run away. Because their desire to escape is faint, they'll cause even greater chaos for the Military Nation!"
They will have our appearance riding the autocarriages so far stuck in their minds. They can't help but be sensitive to every single autocarriage. They will try to catch them all to check their contents.
The so-called allergy operation against the Military Nation.
'You used this many people as bait? Knowing what will happen to the laborers who ran away as they pleased...'
Do I have to care about that? That's their problem.
They made the decision, and the Military Nation is the one tormenting them. I have no idea why I should butt into their bilateral relationship and feel a sense of responsibility.
The Regressor mutters while looking at the back of the departing autocarriages.
"You... are quite ruthless."
"No. You said you wanted to whittle down the Military Nation's strength. We successfully completed the job, so why are you scolding me?"
"I'm not really scolding you."
"Instead of scolding me, you should praise me! If I did a good job, it's natural to say 'Good job.' or 'Thank you.'!"
People with poor social skills seem to think they'll get an allergy if they say lip service. The Regressor is exactly that. The type who stubbornly avoids social activities, including compliments.
"What's with you all of a sudden..."
"Wow, there's no difference between you and the Military Nation in how you use people."
When I let out a grumbling remark, the Regressor flares up.
"That's not true! No matter how I am, I'm not as bad as the Military Nation! If you want a compliment, I'll give you one!"
"Alright, let's see you try. Since you're giving it to someone desperate enough to bow for it, you'd better be careful."
"Tch..."
The fuming Regressor glares at me and spits out.
"Not bad. You did well."
"Not enough."
"...I honestly said you did well. What more do you need?"
"Oh, that last one had some sincerity, so it was good."
"No, I said that to praise you... Ugh, whatever. Fine, you're great."
Just when the Regressor is about to reproach me.
Someone pokes their head out of the first autocarriage. It is the Princess, who had wrapped her hair in a rag.
"Um, Lord Hui? Is the play over?"
Oops. I forgot to tell her it was over. I thought she'd catch on, but she kept waiting inside.
I send an OK sign to the Princess.
"Yes! Princess, your acting was excellent! Good work!"
"Phew. I'm glad I was of help. I was so nervous when you suddenly told me to act."
The Princess opens and closes her sweaty palms a few times, sighing in relief.
To prevent hair from getting caught in the gears, laborers either cut their hair short or wrap it in rags.
Thanks to that, the Princess succeeds in mingling among the people without revealing her distinct light pink hair. And using her ability to bring peace to a group, I had her be the first to take the lead and run toward the autocarriage.
Of course. Business doesn't work without a shill. The original rule is to start by laying out the board after catching a mark.
"Tir, you worked hard too! Truly living up to the reputation, it was an overwhelming production! It might become the Grand Magician Girl of the year!"
[This much is nothing. Those who watch plays are always joyful.]
Tir, who is hiding her body in the darkness, gives a calm smile. The Regressor, catching on to the truth, mutters.
"What. It was instigation. How are you any different from the Military Nation?"
"It's different! At the very least, I don't execute them on the spot for not listening or send them to the inner 'research institute'! What I gifted them is freedom!"
How could she say such abusive words. To think she'd equate me with something like the Military Nation!
Leaving me jumping up and down in anger, the Regressor opens the door of the autocarriage. Inside, the Princess welcomes her.
"Ah, Gong! You worked hard!"
"You too, Princess. You must have suffered a lot, but you did your best."
Why do you naturally give compliments only to the Princess? Are you discriminating?
"Ah, n-no, it's nothing...! I couldn't be of any more help than this...!"
"No. You will be of more help in the future too."
'The New Kingdom rebuilt after the Military Nation's fall survived that pandemonium all thanks to the Princess's ability. Hmph, even I... felt disillusionment, but couldn't harbor hostility. With that power, you can definitely use it better.'
At the remark filled with firm resolve, the Princess, whose heart seems to drop, tightly grips the rag with both hands and averts her gaze.
When her inner thoughts are like that, the compliment hits right on time. Princess, don't be fooled. That's truly a thorny path.
We have already loaded our luggage onto an autocarriage we'd set aside beforehand. With Historia and the Regressor boarding, our preparations are complete.
Until now, all our movements have been detected by the Military Nation. But now that night has fallen and darkness has spread everywhere, for this half-day, we are faster than the Military Nation.
That is exactly what Historia is aiming for. Mobile warfare.
True to being a general from the Military Nation, the operation is also like the Military Nation's.
"Ria. Where's the next destination?"
Historia, who boarded last, gives the order.
"The Alchemical Steel Refinery. It's the natural next step. If we wreck the alchemical steel supply, their mid-to-long-term supply plans will be disrupted."
"Oh, that's a good operation. A general is a general, I guess. What's the distance and direction?"
"Not far. 20 minutes to the northwest. Originally, they were built close to each other to quickly supply materials for the autocarriages."
Alchemical Steel Refinery, nice. If it's a place full of alchemy ingredients, I might be able to replenish some of the cards I used.
In the meantime, the Regressor, recalling a bad memory, frowns.
"Alchemical Steel..."
The Alchemical Steel Refinery. A place that creates the flesh of the Military Nation by alchemizing minerals and pseudo-alchemical substances and refining them into steel. There are many factories that produce other goods with alchemical steel, but this is the only place that produces alchemical steel itself.
Alchemical steel is the flesh of the Military Nation. Therefore, if this place is destroyed, the Military Nation will have to tremble in fear, not knowing when their alchemical steel stock will run out. From weapons to building materials, and packets. A death sentence is passed on all resources that exist in the Military Nation.
However.
The Regressor couldn't readily nod. Because she knows what kind of place it is.
"That place is... where they burn people to melt iron..."
Historia affirms the Regressor's answer.
"It's a place packed only with heinous criminals who can be killed at any moment."
To make alchemical steel, alchemy is needed. To use alchemy, you need knowledge of structures as well as magic power.
And the easiest source of magic power to produce is a living human.
In other words.
The Alchemical Steel Refinery is a factory that squeezes people dry to produce alchemical steel.
It is a part of the "inside" that the laborers of the autocarriage assembly factory would rather die than go to.
"The Alchemical Steel Refinery?"
The Princess reacts. She doesn't know what the Alchemical Steel Refinery is, but she recognizes it as important.
"There! Our collaborator is hiding there! They'll be waiting for us there!"
'It's an opportunity! Finally, we might be of help...!'
The Princess speaks innocently, but a few who know the reality of that place, including me, couldn't easily say it was a good thing. Because the Princess's attitude is so bright, we couldn't bring ourselves to point it out.
"Hiding? In the innermost labor camp where only Level 5, those arrested for irredeemable crimes, go?"
However, Historia, who doesn't care much for the Princess, fires back with an even more cynical attitude. At the unexpected words, the Princess asks back with rabbit-like eyes.
"What?"
"Like a mouse that infiltrated a cat's house. They weren't hiding, they were probably caught."