Chapter 64

“Come in.”

The door opened immediately. It was as if it had been waiting for my signal.

A woman with broad shoulders appeared in the doorway.

“…”

She took off her hat and gave us a silent nod.

I gestured toward the seat. “Please, sit.”

The woman spoke only after she had taken her seat. “I heard you were looking for woodworking technicians.”

“That’s correct. You applied under the name Vina, right?”

“Names don’t really matter. I saw something posted on the street so I applied… but I don’t have skills grand enough to be called a ‘technician’.”

I stopped flipping through the folder and looked her straight in the eye. “Then what kind of work can you do?”

“It’s really trivial stuff. Weaving small baskets from stripped bark, or carving water buckets from the occasional log… that sort of thing.”

At that, Avenger, who was sitting to my right, cut into Vina’s explanation. “Those baskets—can you weave them tightly enough that even grains of barley won’t fall through?”

Vina nodded. “Of course. That’s what those baskets are made for in the first place.”

“And if it’s a water bucket, can you truly make it leak-proof?”

Vina answered the follow-up question with a look of disbelief. “Would I have called it a water bucket otherwise? You take a long piece of wood, shave the top and bottom into latches, and fit them into the frame. Making it round instead of angular is a bit more work, but…”

“Great. You’re hired.”

The one who said that was Adele, sitting to my left.

“I’m hired?” Vina tilted her head.

“Ahahaha… just a second.” I laughed to gloss over the moment and leaned toward Adele, whispering urgently. “…Hey, are you taking this seriously?!”

“I wasn’t even this serious when I was diving into high-grade dungeons.”

“Are you for real…?”

“It’s a joke, obviously. But I am trying my best in my own way. That woman isn’t a spy. She didn’t come here on a whim, either. She looks diligent, so let’s just hire her, okay?”

I glared at Adele with a suspicious gaze.

She simply replied, “If you look at me like that, I’ll get shy.”

I’m going to lose my mind.

‘Fine, I get it. You’re saying she’s a good person, right?’

I exchanged a look with Avenger. He nodded. It was a signal that she was acceptable.

I turned back to Vina. “Very well. If you head out and go to the left, one of our staff will be waiting. Ask them, and they’ll take you to the supervisor. Go have a chat with them.”

“Understood.”

Vina gave another nod, put her hat back on, and left the room.

As you can see, we are in the middle of interviews. The candidates are people who saw the recruitment notices we posted in the lower district. The first-round interviewers are the three of us: me, Avenger, and Adele.

You might ask if an interview can really be this casual.

‘Of course not…!’

But it’s not like I could make it as rigorous as a corporate interview in modern Korea. The people of the lower district haven’t received the kind of high-level education you all have in modern society. Considering that, our policy was to keep the interviews as simple as possible.

However…

“Come in.”

The next interviewee opened the door and entered. He was a middle-aged man with an ordinary appearance. He sat down hesitantly.

At that exact moment, Adele pulled me toward her.

“Whoa… what is it?”

She whispered in my ear. “Send him to the right.”

“…!”

I whispered back cautiously. “…You’ve already made a judgment?”

“The scar on the right side of his neck. Judging by the size, it probably extends below his clothes. That’s a stab wound from a blade.”

“Couldn’t it be an injury from an accident while working?”

Adele glanced at the man again and said, “A simple laborer wouldn’t get a scar like that in that spot. And muscles don’t develop like that just from working, either.”

“Hmm…”

I nodded to her. I resumed the interview.

“Right… so you have plenty of experience working at construction sites.”

After asking the man a few routine questions, I instructed him to head out and go to the right.

Instead of a supervisor, Izack was waiting there. It was a process to weed out those trying to infiltrate the upper district under the guise of an employment application.

Once it was time for a break, Izack opened the door and walked in.

I asked him, “The people I sent that way—how were they?”

“…I was acquainted with a few of them. They’re Malik’s subordinates.”

When Izack said that, Adele tapped me on the shoulder. She puffed out her chest and straightened her shoulders, looking very proud of herself.

“…”

I desperately tried to ignore her. I turned back to Izack. “And the others?”

“They aren’t guys I know personally, but they aren’t the type to earn a living through honest labor, either. You managed to pick them all out.”

Adele tapped me again. She straightened her shoulders, puffed out her chest, and wore a triumphant smirk. Her eyes were practically screaming: ‘Aren’t you forgetting something?’

I covered my eyes with one hand and placed the other on her shoulder.

Then I spoke. “That was truly impressive. It’s all thanks to you.”

“Say my name, too.”

“…It’s all thanks to you, Adele.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Even after that little skit ended, I didn’t remove the hand covering my eyes. I didn’t have the confidence to face Izack.

‘I can only imagine how Izack is looking at this ridiculous scene…’

Soon, Izack asked me, “So, what’s the plan? Are you going to lock them up?”

I shook my head. Still with my eyes covered.

“No. I’m going to hire them.”

“You’re going to hire them?”

I nodded. Izack grabbed my arm.

“Move that hand and look at me while you talk. What are you plotting? Are you trying to dig a pit to trap Malik? I told you I wouldn’t cooperate with that kind of thing.”

“It’s nothing like that. I’m just going to use them as regular labor. After talking to them, it turns out very few of them are actually incompetent. If they’re truly useless, the supervisor will kick them out on their own.”

“Then why bother sorting them out in the first place?”

Well, the answer to that was obvious.

“There’s a world of difference between being stabbed in the front and being stabbed in the back.”

“I didn’t think there would be much of an effect at first… but so many people have gathered.”

Avenger marveled as he looked at the list of prospective hires. Quite a few people from the lower district had come for interviews. Malik’s spies were only a tiny fraction of the total.

To me, however, this wasn’t a particularly surprising result.

Because I knew things would turn out this way.

Avenger asked, “Is it the working environment at the brewery… or perhaps rumors about you, Young Master?”

“You mean rumors that I’m a wicked boss who works people to the bone?”

“Haha, no. I thought perhaps the projects and businesses you’ve launched have improved the lower district residents’ perception of the upper district.”

It would have been nice if that were the case.

‘But it’s definitely not that.’

Avenger continued, “I was under the impression that the lower district residents hated the upper district.”

“Not a chance. In fact, I doubt anyone loves the upper district more than those living below.”

I let out a dry chuckle. Avenger tilted his head in confusion.

“What do you mean by that? You’re well aware of the conflict between the two districts, aren’t you?”

“The lower district residents hate the upper district ‘people.’ They don’t hate the upper district itself.”

“That…” Avenger trailed off, closing his mouth as realization dawned on him. “I see… that makes sense.”

Have you ever had this experience? You feel indifferent toward someone until you hear they’re a “Gangnam Bourgeois”,¹ and suddenly your feelings get complicated. Even if they have the tiniest flaw, you feel an urge to criticize them by linking it back to their background. It’s a very natural human emotion, but is it born out of a hatred for Gangnam?

No.

Jealousy, envy, a sense of deprivation. Such emotions are born from love—or rather, desire.

The people of the lower district love the upper district more than those who actually live there. The warm sunlight, the clean water, the safe alleys. They have dreamed of those things more than anyone. Even Izack—didn’t he make sure Ronari worked in the upper district?

Hating the owner because you love the possession. I know that feeling all too well. Don’t ask me how I know. I just do.

Regardless, I also know exactly how to soothe that anger.

‘And the first step is…’

“I’m going to build a dormitory.”

“A dormitory?” Adele repeated my words.

I was looking back and forth between the building in front of me and a set of blueprints. The blueprints showed a renovation plan superimposed over a bird’s-eye view of the structure.

I told Adele, “I’ll build a dormitory right next to the site for the workers to live in.”

“Ah, I get it. You’re trying to ‘civilize’ them, right?” Adele twirled her index finger in a circle as she continued. “You’re going to turn the lower district people into upper district people to soothe their sense of deprivation. You want to assimilate them. Am I right?”

She asked with the same triumphant expression she had before. But I shook my head. It was too early for her to look that smug.

“Not even close. You’re completely wrong.”

“Ugh…” Her twirling hand dropped.

I asked her, “People never forget their hometown. Do you know what that implies?”

“Well… isn’t it just what it sounds like? Though I’m guessing it’s not, since you’re asking me.”

Exactly. It’s not just a simple literal statement.

I said, “It means people also never forget the inequality, the absurdity, the discrimination, and the persecution they suffered in their hometown.”

How could anyone forget such things? A sense of belonging to one’s home isn’t built on good memories alone. In fact, the bad things often forge a stronger sense of local pride. It’s the same reason the people who stayed by your side during the hard times are the ones who stick in your memory.

“But ‘civilizing’ them? That’s ridiculous. Do you think providing lower district people with the labor and housing of the upper district will turn them into upper district citizens? Never. You can give them material goods to make them support the government, but trying to ‘make them’ upper district people will only trigger a backlash.”

“How can you be so sure?”

I snapped my head around to look at Adele. “…That jealousy, envy, and sense of deprivation. Those are emotions that never leave you, even if you move away or your environment changes.”

“…?”

“Because I am the master of those emotions. That’s how I know.”

“Emotions…” She remained silent for a while before saying, “You… you’re serious about this.”

Her eyes reflected me more clearly than usual.

“Anyway, those feelings arise because someone else has what you lack. But there’s a catch to that statement.”

“A catch?”

I nodded. “People feel jealous and envious because someone else has what they lack ‘without any reason or merit.’”

“Are you saying the upper district people have the upper district without any reason or merit?”

I nodded again. Adele shrugged. “But isn’t there a reason for everything? Rich people probably became rich because they worked hard…”

“Of course, that might be true. But you can also look at it this way.”

“How?”

In response to her question, I pointed at myself. “Do you think I did something incredibly great in a past life to be born as the son of the Lord?”

“…” Adele was quiet for a moment, then spoke jokingly. “Hmm. Maybe you saved the country in your previous life?”

“Haha, well, you could think of it that way.” I laughed. “Regardless, this dormitory will be open to all employees, regardless of whether they are from the upper or lower districts.”

“What’s the point of that? You said you weren’t trying to civilize the lower district residents by giving them a place to stay up here.”

“I’m not. I’m not building a dormitory for something as petty as assimilation.”

-Snap.

I closed the blueprints and spoke. “I am going to gift them equality.”