How To Live As A Writer In A Fantasy World
Chapter 488: Big and Beautiful (3)

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A protest has broken out in Machina, the land of the dwarves. I learned of it through the newspaper.

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From my standpoint, it was a completely unexpected event, so I couldn’t help but be taken aback. Machina was a fairly important country to me, after all.

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The Minerva Empire is known to have the strongest economy, but its productivity is surprisingly low.

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While productivity is certainly linked to economic strength, Minerva’s economic power comes from its tightly-woven economic system.

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It was the first to establish a “central bank” to strictly manage national finances, and even has institutions to oversee financial operations.

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Despite its weaker productivity, Minerva is home to the largest population in the world.

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This sheer manpower, combined with its unique economic system, allows it to display overwhelming economic power.

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Although it was shaken by a demon worshipper printing counterfeit money, it managed to avoid collapse—if it were any other nation, it might have led to a full-blown economic depression.

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Still, even the mighty Minerva Empire pales in comparison to Machina when it comes to productivity.

LoremIpsumDolorSitAmetConsecteturAdipisicingElit To exaggerate a little, it’s like the Soviet Union during its rapid expansion phase. What’s more, Machina is unlike any other country—each citizen is a skilled artisan. Short on production? LoremIpsumDolorSitAmetConsecteturAdipisicingElit

Just pick anyone off the street and throw them into the factory—problem solved.

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What humans call “technology” is nothing more than “toys” to the dwarves. They’re truly a race of craftsmen.

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[The King of Machina, Bourgeois V. “Nothing happened.”]

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[The protesters have dispersed and returned to work.]

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However, just because they are a race of artisans doesn’t mean they are machines.

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The protest that erupted this time was the result of years of pent-up frustration finally exploding.

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As the newspaper reported, the protest ended quickly, and the king personally stated that nothing had happened—but I could sense the truth.

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They were clearly suppressed. The protesters were likely met with violence or dragged off to prison.

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Earth has a similar history—no, an almost identical one—so it was easy to guess. The only difference is that this happened before any kind of industrial revolution.

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Such overwhelming productivity often hides a dark underbelly. Machina is no exception.

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“One of the printing presses has stopped running. We just couldn’t keep up with demand anymore.”

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While I was studying the newspaper, someone quietly spoke up from the front. I looked up to see who it was.

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It was Musk, looking unusually weary. His cheeks had sunken—he had clearly been through a lot.

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Since the protests involved dwarf factories related to papermaking, it must have impacted the publishers too.

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Apparently, once the protests started, the supply couldn’t keep up with demand. Things were already on edge, and now production had all but ground to a halt.

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Currently, not only Blood and Steel but also the Zenon Chronicles are still being published. This is truly the golden age of books.

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Originally, commoners didn’t read much, but after the Zenon Chronicles, readership exploded. The number of students entering literature programs also surged as a result.

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The Zenon Chronicles acted like a stepping stone, and a massive wave of people grew closer to books.

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“The presses are doing their best. But the new releases…”

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“I’m sorry, but even if you give us the manuscript, we won’t be able to print it right away. It’ll take at least half a month before we have any breathing room.”

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Paper production—papermaking—is mostly done by hand. Even with some machinery, it still requires a human touch.

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The massive amount of paper used from the Zenon Chronicles to Blood and Steel was basically squeezing the dwarf factories dry.

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In other words, I was the root cause. All I did was write books, yet it led to these side effects. I couldn’t help but feel uneasy.

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‘But how did I not realize this until now?’

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Compared to when I first investigated Machina, the problems are worse than I expected. Even with media censorship, I barely knew anything about the suffering in the dwarf factories.

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Why? If I had known the reality of Machina, I would have written more about the founding of the Soviet Union in greater detail.

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While I was lost in thought, Musk quietly spoke, noticing the confusion on my face.

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“Is something bothering you?”

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“Huh? Oh, no… I’m just a bit puzzled.”

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“Puzzled about what?”

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“Why didn’t I hear about this sooner? If I had known the dwarf factories were suffering like this, I would’ve made adjustments.”

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After all, I’m surrounded by people with influence on a national level. Even if there are no dwarves among them, they could’ve told me the state of things. But no one did. Or perhaps they really didn’t know.

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It’s possible that Machina’s information control is just that good, but I still had a nagging feeling.

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“…It’s too complicated to explain simply. But fundamentally, they’re trying to nip any seeds of revolution in the bud.”

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When I voiced my doubts, Musk tugged on his mustache in thought before replying.

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I had a rough idea of what he meant, so I asked:

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“This is because of the Zeros Revolution too?”

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“Yes. If a revolution broke out in Machina as well, other countries would be forced to take notice. With all the unrest caused by demon worshippers, the timing couldn’t be worse socially.”

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“…”

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I nodded at his reasonable explanation. This man should’ve gone into politics, not business.

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If not for the current instability caused by the demon worshippers, the surrounding nations probably would’ve jumped at the chance to attack Machina.

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Even without a clear justification, Machina was already disliked by its neighbors.

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But as he said, now is not the time. Especially with the Minerva Empire still struggling with demon worshippers.

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Fortunately, I managed to calm things down somewhat by hosting an “event,” but they still suffered considerable humiliation.

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If a revolution were to break out in Machina now, it could set off a chain reaction that spirals out of control.

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“That’s part of it, but the biggest reason is probably you, Isaac.”

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“Me?”

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“Yes. If the dwarf factories stop producing, the publication of your works will naturally be delayed. If your fame were even slightly lower, maybe they wouldn’t care.

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But because you’re so popular, they’re forced to keep working despite everything. King Bourgeois V probably exploited that to suppress them.”

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In other words, leverage. He likely pressured them with something like: “If you delay his works, you’ll be the ones to suffer.”

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This too is a consequence of the power of divine right going too far. No matter what I say, Machina would probably insist they were just serving their god.

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They’d say they only did it for the sake of their god. That they worked hard in fear of divine punishment.

I’d love to just tell them to screw off, but that wouldn’t solve anything fundamentally. LoremIpsumDolorSitAmetConsecteturAdipisicingElit

‘It’s unlikely we’ll see a Marx or Lenin emerge in these times.’

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Marx formed his ideas after witnessing the conditions of workers during the Industrial Revolution, and Lenin was influenced by Marx.

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But in this era, it’s unlikely that humans—or other races, for that matter—will develop similar ideologies.

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Especially with Machina’s ironclad information control, outsiders have no way of knowing the truth. Even I didn’t know.

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Even now, the protest was treated as a mere “riot” and was swiftly suppressed at the national level.

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If the internet existed, people might have noticed. But in this world, people rely solely on rumors and the press.

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Fortunately, I have a powerful network that allows me to see the truth. Ordinary people would never know.

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‘They treat the factory workers’ cries as mere whining.’

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That’s also why Musk came to see me—because the dwarves staged protests over “trivial” matters, and it delayed production.

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But if they knew those “trivial” reasons were due to unreasonable working conditions, how would they react?

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Musk, at least, is known for treating his employees well. So I decided to test him, and learn more in the process.

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“Musk.”

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“Yes, go ahead.”

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“How many hours do your employees work per day?”

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“…?”

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Musk blinked, clearly wondering about the intent of my question. I just smiled warmly, with an innocent expression that gave nothing away.

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Looking puzzled, he tilted his head and answered:

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“Unless they’re on night shift, they work from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. Lately, there’s been a lot of overtime, but we pay generous bonuses.”

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“And how much is their salary?”

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“That depends on rank and position. For example, a senior accountant can make close to 80 gold per month. We pay extra on days when taxes need to be filed.”

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“And if an employee gets into an accident?”

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“Well, we’re a publishing company, so accidents are rare… but do you remember when I was attacked by a demon worshipper?”

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Of course I did. That incident was so dangerous that he even considered buying a temple—something no normal person would ever consider.

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He’s since relocated the company to our domain, but it was a very serious matter.

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“If anything like that happens, we cover medical expenses and recommend at least half a year of rest. Of course, salaries are still paid during that time. After what I went through, I know how traumatic it can be.”

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“Then…”

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I trailed off, recalling the miserable conditions of workers in my past life. Standards varied by country, but the worst cases were truly horrific.

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“Sixteen-hour shifts a day.”

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“Excuse me?”

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“No break time. No compensation even if injured on the job. Children are also allowed to work under the same conditions.”

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“……”

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“What would you think if such a workplace existed?”

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Musk blinked again, as if he couldn’t believe what he’d heard. Then he replied, incredulous:

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“I want employees—not slaves.”

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“But you’d make more money this way.”

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“I don’t buy and sell human lives. And anyway, does such a business even exist?”

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A truly Musk-like answer. I chuckled and shook my head at his expression of complete disbelief.

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“The exploitation of the dwarf factories is purely my imagination. It’ll probably take a few days to get accurate information.”

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“I wouldn’t know. Anyway, I’ll publish the new volume slowly. But we need to take steps so that no one can use my name for anything strange.”

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“Anyone who tries will be punished by the heavens.”

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“The gods wouldn’t intervene for something like this.”

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If the gods were to get involved, it would probably take a fanatic savior. I’m certainly no saint myself.

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Still, some precautions are necessary. You never know what kind of stunt Machina might pull with their powerful information control.

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‘To do that, I need Kate’s help. But when the hell is she coming back?’

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It had already been three months since Kate left. No contact. No idea what she was doing.

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‘Just a bit longer. I’ll wait a little more.’

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For now, focus on the present. After telling Musk what I wanted to be spread in the media, I pulled out a prepared item.

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Musk, seeing me place the item on the table, seemed to understand what it was.

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“Is this a new illustration?”

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“Yes. Since the new volume is going to be delayed anyway, I thought it wouldn’t hurt to reveal an illustration in advance.”

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It was an illustration of Hitler and Guderian observing the production of a Panzer I tank in a factory.

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Since it was the first appearance of the tank, it held some importance—but that didn’t matter. At first, everyone would just look at it and wonder what it was anyway.

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Luminous had said three dwarves were inventing a tank and would bring it to our territory.

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“Is it alright?”

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“I don’t mind.”

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She didn’t say when that would happen, so I felt reassured.

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★★★★★

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[Zenon’s rebuke after witnessing Machina’s protests: Don’t torment the factories in my name.]

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[For the sake of the dwarven factories, Blood and Steel will be published at a slower pace.]

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[If anyone tries to use his name…]

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The protests that erupted in Machina had spread worldwide, eventually reaching Isaac.

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As discussed with Musk, Isaac decided to delay the release schedule and warned people not to exploit his name for factory mistreatment.

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Naturally, this news spread like wildfire. Even Machina, though they complained, ultimately accepted it.

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After all, who could dare stand on equal footing with a blessed saint? If they pushed their luck, they might be bombarded by surrounding nations.

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“Move faster! I said move, you useless bastards!”

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“P-Please… let us rest for a moment…”

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“Talking back now, are you?!”

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“Aaargh!”

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But that didn’t mean treatment of the factory workers improved. If anything, the beatings became worse, as if to crush any rebellious spirit.

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The number of dwarven workers collapsing from the grueling labor continued to rise, and the violence from the factory owners grew worse.

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Carrots? There were no carrots. If one worker collapsed, they were simply replaced with another.

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They were treated like literal machine parts. Even when exhaustion piled up, the factories moved their limbs silently.

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“Give us freedom! Give us creativity! Give us rest!”

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“Bourgeois V, give us a chance! Give the children pens, not hammers!”

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That doesn’t mean they stayed silent. Perhaps it was after witnessing the brutal suppression of a previous protest—dwarves continued to gather in squares and streets, voicing fierce resistance.

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Now, it wasn’t just paper-making factories. Workers from all sectors had come together.

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Seeing how the state ignored them, they had no choice but to raise their voices.

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“Fire at will!!”

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The state responded with even greater violence. Specially-made arrows were fired directly at the protestors.

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“Aaaagh!!”

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“Run!”

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“What did we do?! What the hell did we do?!”

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The protestors, who had been marching toward the palace, scattered in panic under a rain of arrows.

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Fortunately, the arrow tips were blunted, so there were no deaths.

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“Aaaah! My eyes! My eyes!!”

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“B-Brother! A priest! Call a priest!”

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But while there were no fatalities, injuries were rampant. One dwarf was even blinded when an arrow struck his eye.

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Against the might of the state, the power of the protestors was pathetically weak.

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At this point, it wasn’t protest—it was time for revolution. The dwarves slowly came to realize this, and society’s mood began to shift in that direction.

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“We can’t stay silent any longer! What have we done wrong? Did we ask for too much? All we wanted was rest and a cold beer! This isn’t the treatment we deserve!”

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“He’s right!”

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“You can tell he’s educated, speaks so well!”

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Like the Zeros Revolution, a successful revolution needs a strong rallying point. Right now, that was the dwarf Giaas, giving a rousing speech from a podium.

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A close friend and comrade of Ains, Giaas looked over the crowd of workers roaring in approval.

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Their faces were worn down by harsh conditions and persecution, but a fire burned bright in their eyes.

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When that fire gathers into one, it could become a raging inferno that could burn down the very nation. Giaas smiled, pleased by the crowd’s response.

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BEEP!

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But that smile didn’t last long. At the sound of a whistle, Giaas and the protestors turned their heads.

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“There they are! Arrest the rebels!”

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They had been spotted by a patrol. And it wasn’t a small one.

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Due to the recent surge in protests, Bourgeois V had massively increased patrols. It was brute-force suppression, pure and simple.

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“Slaves of Bourgeois V!”

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“Filthy bastards!”

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“Everyone scatter! It’s not time to fight yet!”

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At the sight of the soldiers, the protestors dispersed. But their expressions held no fear.

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They had long since abandoned hope in the nation. What rose within them now was not fear—but anger.

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Giaas also fled before the soldiers could catch him, slipping between alleyways and shaking off pursuit.

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“Phew…”

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He let out a sigh of relief, convinced he had gotten away. Then he peeked out from the alley.

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Thankfully, no soldiers were in pursuit. Though it was noisy, he didn’t hear anyone chasing him.

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Eventually, Giaas took out a piece of paper from his chest. Judging by its texture, it seemed to be a torn piece of a newspaper.

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“A tank, huh…”

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The paper in his hand was none other than the illustration Isaac had released—a tank with Hitler and Guderian admiring it.

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But Giaas wasn’t looking at the men—he was focused on the tank itself.

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‘It’s nearly identical to what Ains is developing.’

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Ains was also building a weapon very similar to the illustration. A fortress of steel powered by a magical engine.

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To maximize firepower, the upper section had a cannon, and beneath it, a reloadable crossbow.

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But progress had been slow lately—mainly due to Machina’s terrible roads.

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Using wheels made the vehicle too bumpy to control properly. Because of a single wheel issue, they couldn’t move forward.

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‘With this kind of structure…’

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Giaas focused on the tank’s symbol—caterpillar tracks. With those, it might be operable even on rough terrain.

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‘How?’

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How did Zenon—Isaac—come up with this weapon? It was far too similar to what Ains was working on.

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No, beyond just being similar, it solved the very problem they were stuck on. From a technological standpoint, it was a full step ahead.

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Just like the steam locomotive in Zenon’s Chronicle, this tank too—

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‘Is he really from the future?’

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He said he wasn’t. But now Giaas found even that hard to believe. Without future knowledge, how could anyone imagine such a machine?

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‘Well, it doesn’t matter. As long as he can be the rallying point for our revolution.’

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Giaas carefully tucked the illustration into his coat. Ains and Handine were too focused on inventing the tank to notice what was happening outside.

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All they asked was for Giaas—with his sharp tongue—to be the face of the revolution.

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‘This alone is enough.’

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What a master craftsman who’s spent decades honing his skill needs—

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‘We too can have military power.’

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—is a single blueprint.

★★★★★