“Are you telling me to go out to the street?”
Workers in the outskirts’ factories gathering for a strike isn’t enough to make headlines. You really have to drive a truck right into the heart of Gwanghwamun, Seoul, and yell into a megaphone like a whale to get a tiny segment on the news.
“You must leave the paper mill and take only essential personnel, while others go out to the street together with the other workers.”
I nodded at the stunned representative of the paper mill workers.
“……”
“Is something wrong with everyone?”
Why are their faces so dark? When I asked, the representative cautiously shared his concerns.
“If we give up the mill, everything will be in vain, right?”
“Am I not setting the stage for you? The director is being held hostage, and the deputy director is scared of the workers burning things down. Now is the time to go out and express your intentions.”
When the opponent’s judgment is clouded, you must strike quickly. Now was the time to announce the strike to the world.
“……”
“Everyone seems to be afraid.”
At my words, they all looked away.
“Isn’t it better to stay quiet than go out and hear ‘rebellion’ or ‘uprising’?”
If we end up marching in the streets, there’s a risk of being suppressed. The faces of the gathered workers were filled with fear.
It seems the thought of being overpowered by the Ho Pil without my help has instilled a great terror in them.
This is troubling.
I will take full responsibility. The Inspector is behind us. Don’t worry. But no amount of coaxing seems to be making them nod in agreement.
‘We can’t maintain this strike forever.’
There will surely be some kind of pressure applied. Excluding my personal interests, this matter needs to be resolved swiftly.
‘I have no choice. I must ignite the fire myself.’
I have no intention of sweet-talking them. Those standing on the grill are trying to rest. I need to set the fire to get them moving fast.
“How many years have you been working here?”
I approached a young worker who was blankly listening to our conversation in the corner.
“Uh? What do you mean?”
“I asked how long you’ve worked at this paper mill.”
“Oh, this is my first year.”
“Okay, now how about you?”
I immediately turned and asked a worker who looked older and clearly had more experience.
“I’ve been here for five years.”
“Five years? Good. Take a good look at the face of this first-year worker standing next to you.”
“What?”
“Look closely.”
Why is he telling me to look at their face? What is Ho Pil talking about? All the workers around were watching me with curious expressions.
“Yes, yes.”
When I spoke with a serious face, the first-year worker began to examine the five-year worker’s face.
The face of a worker who has suffered from labor for over five years.
After a satisfying amount of time to admire the sun-baked and steam-scorched face, I spoke with a solemn expression.
“Your life in four years will look like that.”
“……!”
“Five-year worker.”
This time, I approached the five-year worker.
“Yes.”
“Turn to your side. Over there. The ten-year worker, your representative, is standing. That person is your future in five years.”
As a ten-year veteran, the aging representative stood there, burdened and weary, having struggled through the paper mill while expressing both what he could and couldn’t say to the managers for the sake of the other Joseon workers.
“Ho Pil……”
I continued speaking while looking at the faces of the workers.
“Everyone, see each other’s faces. Look at the faces of those who are afraid to go out into the street.”
To get them moving, I mustn’t let them sit quietly.
I told the workers, firmly rooted in their misery and sorrow hardened by time, to face each other’s reality.
“Do you think things will be different a year, five years, or even ten years from now if you live like this?”
The life without an exit, a life with no progress, brings not light but years. Only age. I poke cruelly at their hardened parts.
“Then doesn’t going outside change anything?”
The first-year worker asked me, squeezing out courage. Yes. It can change. But I must not guarantee that to them.
I must make them rise. Even if it doesn’t change, I have to make them want to change.
“Why are we living like this? Why are we living with no future?”
I toss a question as fuel for a huge fire.
“Because we’re barbarians……”
“Because we’re barbarians? Then what about those with blue hair? What about the green hair? What about the orange hair? Are they Joseon people too?”
A good answer, but not the one I want.
“Because everyone is left with nowhere to go……”
I stride closer to the first-year worker, filled with rage and frustration as I bring forth my clenched fists.
“No! That’s not it! We must get rid of that attitude. Why are you blaming us?!”
“Then do you mean there’s another reason?”
There are countless reasons for everything that happens in this world, but I must narrow it down to one.
I must focus. To guide them to the destination I desire, I need to specify the pain they’re suffering.
“It’s because they own the means of production.”
I present a concise reason. Not us, but turn the gaze outward.
“Means of production? What do you mean by that?”
“The asset known as the paper mill! They own the means to produce paper! That’s why they make money without breaking a sweat, while we work all day long and barely take home a few coins that aren’t even as valuable as the paper we produce.”
A short explanation. Directly dividing the two classes and emphasizing our suffering, I clutch my chest as if pained by the unfair structure.
“Isn’t it natural since it belongs to the Head of Guards?”
No need to deny it. I applauded someone’s insight. Clap clap clap. The sound echoing through the quiet paper mill.
All eyes shifted back to me. Now, I must acknowledge the mainstream opinion while twisting it into my own.
With clenched fists, I poured out my feelings like I was regurgitating what’s inside me.
“Yeah! Of course it’s natural! I wanted to say that! Everyone look around. Mortars, knives, bark, rice straw, hammers, paper. Aren’t all of these just normal things? But listen……”
“Ho Pil?”
Standing amidst the workers, I made eye contact with everyone at once and asked them a question.
“When did you become the property of the Head of Guards?”
“……!”
“It’s natural that you bought sickles and hammers with money. But why did you, who weren’t bought with money, become normalized as property? Why did you willingly become slaves?!”
I emphasized the end of my sentence. I questioned them angrily about why they couldn’t realize this fact.
“We are slaves……?”
I wouldn’t let them digest the shock. To lift their slumped legs, I have to keep shaking them.
“Do you know what the commonality is between a first-year slave, a five-year slave, and a ten-year slave?”
I approached the first-year worker again.
“Well, I don’t know.”
“Waiting for your death day. Just like now.”
“……”
None in the paper mill could refute my words.
A paper mill occupied by workers. A hideout where they could escape the Ho Pil and the Constables, and resist the deputy director’s attacks.
I will turn this comfortable space, which has grown cozy by mere sitting, into a rotting coffin. With just a few words, I will change it into a place where waiting quietly equals awaiting defeat.
“Why, after sweating and toiling all day, do we return home with less money than the few sheets of paper we produced? Why? It’s because you recognized your property! Because you thought of yourself as a slave beaten by a whip!”
“There’s nothing we can do about it!”
A scream mixed with despair protested against me.
True. I’m not saying to overturn everything. I don’t intend to challenge two counts of treason either. But still.
“Indeed. Unfortunately, we cannot do anything about their means of production. They own them! But what if we don’t let them have our blood, sweat, and tears?”
I can shake you who have been too comfortable, to rise again. If there’s a trigger, I can toss wood onto the fire for those who are willing to rise.
“How could you say that?”
In the once-dazed first-year worker’s eyes, I began to see some fervor. I faced the barely igniting passion squarely and asked him.
“Before that, let me ask. Are you a slave?”
“No.”
“Then will you just stand by while they try to own you?”
“No!”
“Whose blood, sweat, and tears are we shedding?!!!”
“Our’s!!!”
“Rise up! Show them!”
The young man did not refuse my outstretched hand.
“Let’s all rise!”
Everyone who had been sitting quietly stood up.
“Everyone, rise and unite! Unite! Wear the red headbands! Let everyone know we are bleeding workers!”
I placed a red headband on the first-year worker’s head. It was embroidered with the words ‘Unity’ and ‘Struggle.’
“I will make it known!”
“Unite! Shout our demands at the top of our lungs!”
“Unite!!! Let’s struggle!!!”
Everyone shouted loudly the slogans written on their red headbands.
To the workers who had managed to reignite their spirits, I had only one piece of advice to offer now.
“Right. Thus prove you are not a means but people.”
—————
Thud!
Thud!
“What, what is that?!”
Thud! Thud thud thud!
The next morning, what the merchants of Wuhan encountered amidst the mysterious beating of drums was a series of red figures.
“What, what’s going on? A rebellion?!”
“Should we fold up our stalls and run?”
Everyone looked at the gathering with tense faces, but what they held were instruments resembling drums or flags. They weren’t anything that looked like weapons.
“Paper mill workers! We can’t live like this anymore!”
“We can’t live! We can’t live!”
Their rallying cry was also unfamiliar to the market merchants.
“Huh? What’s going on?!”
“Don’t get involved in the march recklessly; it’s dangerous!”
“The Ho Pil are blocking us? What’s going on?”
Even the Ho Pil stepped in, standing between the pedestrians and the protesters.
“With wages lower than half of dock workers!!!”
“We can’t live! We can’t live!”
“If we’re sick, don’t cut us off! Guarantee us sick leave! Guarantee it!”
Only after the people realized the protesters were safe did they finally start to grasp the situation.
“The paper mill workers are protesting in numbers.”
“They say they don’t even earn half of what dock workers do?”
“Tsk tsk. No matter how barbaric it might be, they’re treating them too cruelly.”
“I see different hair colors too. Looks like the workers gathered to risk their lives because they can’t live anymore.”
The protest swiftly became a hot topic in Wuhan.
“Who ordered such cruelty? Do you know whose workers those paper mill workers are?”
“Who?”
“The Head of Guards. Gu Jook.”
“What? The Head of Guards treated the workers so cruelly?”
“There’ve been a lot of rumors about the administration, and it seems the time for reckoning has come.”
“Oh my.”
Of course, even the name of the Head of Guards, Gu Jook, rose to prominence.
——————-
Well done fueling the fire.
Seems like protests should be staged where there are lots of people passing by. Now it’s really taking over everyone’s lips.
“Burning well. This flame is hotter than the one in the Ilung forest……”
“Huh?”
“Oh! It’s nothing. Jeon Gil-san, what are you doing?”
I hurriedly stammered at Miss Zhuge’s surprised voice.
While it’s a famous line from Lord Zhuge, there’s no need to dig up painful history. I quickly shifted my gaze to Gil-san.
Why is he looking at me suspiciously again?
“Hey. You.”
“Why?”
“Are you by any chance here because you were leading a rebellion or treason in Joseon or something?”
“What are you talking about?”
“It just looks like you’ve done this a few times before……”
Did I take him to the paper mill for no reason? He couldn’t seem to close his mouth when he saw me do my thing.
“If you keep talking nonsense, I won’t go with you next time.”
“Brother-in-law! I was just joking! I said it jokingly since you’re doing so well!”
There are limits to what one can say. How could I pinpoint the reality to a person who pressed the emergency escape button after falsifying a corpse?
I apologized and patted Jeon Gil-san’s back, then turned to Miss Zhuge.
“How do you think things will go from here?”
Given that the Zhuge family has deep connections with the officials, Miss Zhuge would know the situation quite well and could be of help.
“According to Master Kang’s plan, the Head of Guards will become urgent now. Even if it’s not a rebellion, if the rumors spread in Wuhan, the Head of Guards won’t be able to sit idly.”
“If he doesn’t rush to extinguish it, the Head of Guards will bleed.”
Even if it’s not a full-blown rebellion, if it becomes a big enough issue, the Head of Guards will find himself in a difficult position.
“Yes, probably. He might send someone to Master Kang.”
“Someone connected to the Head of Guards.”
They’ll likely send someone who can put appropriate pressure on me while still being connected to the Head of Guards.
“Yes. As far as I’ve investigated, it might be the Inspector from the government office……”
“Master Kang! The head of the Right Guards has come to visit!”
“Hmm hmm hmm.”
Before Miss Zhuge could even finish her sentence, as expected, the head of the Right Guards came to visit. Miss Zhuge smiled pleasantly.
“Haha. Looks like the Head of Guards is finally getting anxious.”
I wonder what kind of news he brings.
