This Isn't an E*otic Game?-Chapter 64: General Strike Declaration

In Scrap Yard, the most talked-about and heavily pursued figure, with the highest bounty on his head and the most media coverage, was undoubtedly the name Kal Lenaro.

The leader of the labor theorists, he was considered one of the most dangerous individuals in the region. However, his exact whereabouts remained a mystery, with rumors only suggesting that he was hiding somewhere in the mines of Scrap Yard. No concrete information about his location or identity was available.

This was because all the labor theorists in Scrap Yard used every means at their disposal to protect him.

But today...

For the first time in a long while, Kal Lenaro, who rarely ventured out, had decided to leave his hiding place.

"Comrade Lenaro, this is dangerous," one of his aides warned.

"But I must see it. I must see it with my own eyes."

The Healer Saint.

A figure who had achieved great feats in the capital, quickly rising to become one of the most important figures in both the Imperial Court and the ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ Divine Temple, was now inexplicably carrying out healing activities in the corners of Scrap Yard.

"Religion is the drug of the workers. I must go and see what kind of person he is. If I don't, the lives of the workers could fall into even deeper ruin."

Three hundred years ago, Scrap Yard was a city severely scarred by the Evil God.

Deceptive promises of an afterlife, brainwashing, and fanaticism led the city into tremendous chaos.

The brainwashed fanatics disregarded the law and imposed their doctrines upon others, severely disrupting the basic order of families and society.

They refused to pay taxes while demanding tithes, all the while committing countless acts of nuisance and corruption, under the belief that they were in the right.

They even tried to start a holy war, plunging the city into a civil war for three years. Even after that, they continued to spread bloodshed for more than a decade, leaving destruction in their wake until the very last moments.

Since then, the city had developed a strong aversion to religion and magic.

The gods of the Divine Temple, who had stood idly by while the city suffered at the hands of the Evil God, refused to help. They watched the city undergo a horrific transformation through the use of magic and sorcery, doing nothing to prevent it.

For this reason, Lenaro felt he needed to personally see this so-called Saint, to ensure that he wasn’t exploiting the plight of the workers for religious purposes or creating more fanatics.

Over the course of several days, Lenaro secretly observed the Saint’s healing activities.

He witnessed the Saint treating the sick without proper food or sleep.

He saw the Saint using his own wealth to feed the hungry.

There was no sign of proselytizing.

Instead, the Saint wept with a woman who had lost her child and sympathized with the broken lives of the workers, expressing his anger.

Lenaro also witnessed the police attempting to forcefully remove him.

He saw the Saint refuse to leave and rebuke the authorities.

But Lenaro was not fooled.

People who devote themselves to religion or magic are rarely those who truly seek to change the lives of the common folk.

They are just predators, working for their own gods, offering faith as a sacrifice in exchange for power.

"You’re all fired!"

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When the police arrived, smashing the soup kitchen and chasing the patients away, Lenaro witnessed the Saint’s helplessness. He realized an important turning point had arrived.

In this despairing moment, when the Saint spoke of believing in Goddess Lilia for salvation, it was clear that he was the very person who needed to be expelled from the city.

Without addressing the fundamental issue of the social system, he was simply focused on peddling religion, like a typical fraud.

Despite the trauma from 300 years ago, time makes people forget much of the pain.

To the workers suffering in their hellish reality, the idea that believing in a goddess would bring happiness would surely sound incredibly sweet.

'Now. The people have lost hope and are leaving. If you’re going to sell religion, there’s no better time than now. What will you do? Will you peddle your drug, or will you show the will to solve the far more fundamental issues?'

Lenaro, with a cynical look in his eyes, hid among the crowd and watched the Saint step over the ruined soup kitchen.

'Most likely, you’ll push religion. You’ll tell them to believe in the goddess, to continue living day by day, despite this bleak reality. You won’t eliminate the factory owners, nor will you solve the horrendous problems of capitalism. You’ll simply keep selling your drug, hoping for salvation. The moment you say that, you become the enemy of the workers.'

Just as Lenaro was thinking this, the Saint spoke.

But the Saint did not utter the name of Goddess Lilia.

He did not mention the gods of the Divine Temple.

He did not invoke the Emperor’s authority.

None of that came out of his mouth.

"A ghost is haunting the Empire!!!!"

Instead, the Saint shouted with a voice that seemed to be drenched in blood.

"It is the ghost of capitalism!! This ghost, more greedy and cruel than any demon or evil god recorded in history, continues to suck the souls and lives of the workers, and still cries out for more!!"

The Saint was nearly screaming.

"And just now, that ghost has declared that it will consume your lives as well!! Just as it has done up until now!! And it will continue to do so, showing its greedy, unmasked intentions!! How long!! How long will you be exploited! How long will you live as slaves!! Workers of this city!!"

The shout, so immense it seemed almost inhuman, shook Kal Lenaro’s very soul.

His cynical gaze toward the Saint was beginning to fade.

Like all the other workers gathered here, Lenaro was stunned.

The Saint no longer seemed like someone who had been nurtured under the care of gods, living a life of privilege in a greenhouse.

He spoke as though he were someone who had been hurt and suffered for a long time in the capitalist system.

****

Blank, empty eyes.

A face devoid of any hope for the future.

An attitude full of doubt about whether one can even survive in this society.

No belief that tomorrow will be any different from today.

No faith that if you work hard, things will surely get better.

People who have no such convictions.

They are the ones I am familiar with.

More precisely, they are how I was before I reincarnated here.

Before I lived in Korea, as Kim Min-gyu, struggling and barely surviving.

The only difference is that back in Korea, even though I was struggling, when I was hungry, I could go to a convenience store and buy a cup of ramen, go to a job center for training, and if I was sick, I could go to a hospital for treatment. But here, they have no safety net at all.

Injured?

Then you must die.

Hungry?

Then you starve to death.

This place was hell.

And even if their bodies are healed, what would change if the system itself doesn’t change?

They would just go back to the factories, laboring once more, getting hurt again, and then becoming homeless, wandering around until they eventually die. That’s their fate, plain and simple.

You want to treat them for just a week and leave?

Then you would be committing the most cruel act of all.

You would be extending their hopeless lives artificially.

If you're going to heal, you must fix the root of the problem.

So, I screamed.

I screamed with more fury and anger than anyone else.

"Look! Look at those factory owners! They've melted human dignity into exchange value, and turned human lives into a shameless business tool!! Workers have become nothing more than tools or parts due to division of labor and mechanization, and now they are slaves to the overseers, employers, bourgeoisie, and the state!! Yes! You are slaves!! Slaves with no hope, with no certainty of a better tomorrow!! Slaves!!"

As I shouted, I began to see a common emotion rising in the eyes of the workers.

Anger.

Resentment.

Parents who had lost their children began to cry, and young people with dull eyes started to burn with determination.

Those with nothing left but their bodies—those with nothing to lose—began to change the look in their eyes as they listened to me.

"Now, refuse to be slaves any longer!! Refuse to live as parts for the factory, tools to increase their wealth!!! Don't let the ghost of capitalism consume you any longer!! Workers, you are human beings!! You are not parts that turn in the factory! If you are hurt or broken, you are not just replaceable parts!! You are human!!"

Without realizing it, my voice began to mix with anger.

The convenience store owner who cheated me out of money.

The horrific memories from my first job that I never wanted to recall.

The pain of losing the security deposit that I had saved through sweat and tears when I was defrauded in a rental scam, that feeling of my soul breaking, all came rushing back.

"You are not wrong!! Who could say you’re wrong, when you have fought so hard to survive!! The wrong thing is the norms and regulations of this society!! So let’s reject these norms and regulations!! Let’s not just keep taking it anymore!! Let’s reject our lives as mere parts and reclaim our lives as humans!!"

But even if the suffering I endured in Korea was bad, could it really be worse than what these people are going through?

Could it be worse than the pain of parents seeing their three-year-old child die before their eyes?

"Then it’s revolution!! I declare a revolution against this rotten world and its rules!! Let the factory owners and the rulers of this city tremble before the revolution!! Let’s no longer be consumed by the ghost of capitalism! We must become the ones who hunt that ghost!!"

"How can we do that, Saint!!"

Someone in the crowd asked a question.

How, you ask?

There’s only one way.

"Workers of the city, unite!! You have nothing to lose but your chains!! What you stand to gain is freedom and dignity!! Do not fear guns or bend under the weight of clubs!! Unite and refuse to work!! Until you receive your rightful wages and treatment, do not work in these factories!!"

The atmosphere began to build, and I could feel it.

I raised my hand.

"Persecution is coming!! The enemies will bring weapons and try to destroy you!! But what is there to fear!! Fight! And seize what is ours! Then, we, who were nothing, will become everything!!"

Thanks to my body modifications, I could make a shout so loud it was unimaginable.

A shout strong enough to set the whole city on fire.

A colossal roar.

"Reject a life as a part, and die as a human!! Do not pass on this pain to your children!!"

Someone in the crowd, I don’t know who, started shouting.

"Long live the labor revolution!!!!"

And that cry quickly spread through the crowd.

I raised my hand high toward those shouting.

"General strike!! We declare a general strike!! Stop the factories and don’t let the ghost of capitalism get fat off of us anymore!! We will never stop until we are given our rightful rights and treatment!!"

My final cry was the trigger.

Thousands of workers gathered in the square all shouted together.

"Long live the revolution!!! Long live the revolution!!!"

"Lead us!!"

I did not turn away from their cries.

This was the result of trying to save a worker’s family by giving them a loaf of black bread.