February 1881, Orange Free State.
On the streets of Bloemfontein City, Restoration Army soldiers began visiting the shops and residences along the roads in groups of three or five.
Bang! Bang! Bang...
The door to Grien's cobbler shop was pounded until it rattled violently. The little wooden door looked as though it might explode at any moment, yet no one answered. Anyone unaware of the situation might have thought the shop was closed for the day.
"Master, should we open the door?" Grien's apprentice asked cautiously inside the cobbler shop.
"Open my ass. Those money-grubbing bastards come around every few days to collect fees. What good could come from them showing up at our door? Business is getting harder and harder!" Grien cursed furiously under his breath.
"Master, even if you want to pretend no one's home, I'm afraid it won't be so easy. Judging by how those mad dogs outside behave, I'd say they won't give up easily. As the saying goes, you can hide from the first day, but not from the fifteenth. If they don't get the money this morning, they'll definitely come again this afternoon. If not today, then tomorrow, and they'll keep coming until they get it."
"Alas, what else can we do? Those dog bastards who eat people without even leaving the bones—we Orange people must have had eight lifetimes of rotten luck. We took in those ungrateful white-eyed wolves, and now those stinking beggars really think they're the masters of Orange. If we hadn't taken them in, they'd have starved to death long ago. And East Africa too—why didn't they wipe out those heartless wolf-brutes back then? Bah!" Grien finally let loose, pouring out every word in his heart.
The apprentice said nervously, "Master, mind your words. They're everywhere outside now!"
"What are