The times were advancing, and so were the people.
At the Da Ke'er Textile Mill, after management announced the company's decision, the workers who had joined the strike began discussing it in small groups.
An ordinary-looking young man sneered. "Same old trick again. Do they really not know any other tricks?"
Clearly, the young man was still wary and didn't dare call them out by name. Everyone knew there were spies for the boss among the workers. Some people had already been fired for complaining in private.
But times had changed. So what if they were fired? They could always find work at another factory. If they really couldn't find a job, they could go to the colonies. They wouldn't starve either way.
Having another path to take gave everyone a lot more confidence. If the Da Ke'er Textile Mill had decent working conditions, they probably wouldn't be so willing to give up their jobs.
Unfortunately, perhaps the Da Ke'er Textile Mill had offered decent conditions ten years ago, but that was certainly no longer the case.
A middle-aged man beside him glared fiercely. "Shut up, Lake!"
It was clear that worry filled the middle-aged man's eyes. Factory management in those days was anything but civilized; workers were often beaten and kicked.
The Lanno father and son had long ruled with an iron fist, and they showed no tolerance for anything that challenged their authority.
Lake hadn't named anyone outright, but if his words got back to the bosses, he could still face retaliation.
Ordinary workers couldn't fight the capitalists. In previous years, some people had even met with "accidents" after speaking ill of the boss.
Officially, they were called accidents. But everyone in the know understood that someone had arranged them: they had deliberately caused an accident to kill