The next day.
Dugagu, Wosuo County.
Nayafaso Village.
In an ancient language of North Africa, the pronunciation of "Nayafaso" meant "the home of upright gentlemen."
Perhaps some figure in history had left this legacy to the land, but that was another legendary story altogether.
That year's winter.
Had come earlier than in previous years, and colder, too.
It was only mid-December, yet the temperature had already dropped to four or five degrees below freezing. In previous winters, the lowest it ever reached was zero, and the lake would not even freeze over.
But now.
Gleaming white snow had covered the earth with a thick quilt!
Beneath an old, crooked-necked tree.
Several dark-skinned, stooped men, all draped in thin, filthy, tattered coats, huddled shivering beside a fire.
At the same time,
They kept rubbing their feet with their hands and puffing out warm breath, resisting the bitter cold's assault and preserving what pitiful little warmth their bodies had.
"I heard from someone passing through our village that they're building some kind of factories in the city now, and they're hiring everywhere. Not only do they pay well, they're even willing to hire wretched souls like us."
"Factories? What are those? Do they farm, too?"
"Has the cold addled your brain? How could any place dare hire people like us! We've already sold our very lives to the landlord."
"I'm not lying. Haven't you noticed Heiwa's gone? I heard he sneaked off to the city. Now he gets enough to eat and warm clothes every day. He's got it better than us by who knows how much!"
"I want to run away, too, but what if the master catches me and brings me back?"
"Exactly. Have you forgotten Long Ears? The beating he took-there wasn't a single patch of flesh left intact. In the end, they beat him to death!"
The men discussed this in the lowest voices they could manage.
Their voices were truly low, not even as loud as the dry branches crackling in the fire.
Just as their conversation grew animated.
A fat man, bundled in clothing from head to toe and so fat he seemed to ooze grease, suddenly appeared behind them.
His face twisted ferociously as he shouted:
"Who gave you permission to burn wood?"
The men all jumped in fright, and one hurried to explain:
"Master, these are just some fallen dry branches we picked up at the edge of the woods. We didn't cut down your trees, much less dare steal your firewood."
Hearing this explanation only made the fat man angrier.
Crack-
He swung the whip in his hand, lashing the men hard as he roared furiously:
"Even if it's fallen on the ground, it's still my property! Who gave you lowly slaves permission to use my property as you please without asking? This is all my money! Mine!"
Crack-
Crack-
Several more heavy lashes followed.
The men did not dare dodge, nor did they dare cry out in pain. Even as their skin split and flesh tore, they could only grit their teeth.
Red blood welled from their wounds.
It dripped onto the ground, melting a few snowflakes, only to freeze again in the winter cold the very next second.
Perhaps he found it dull, or perhaps his anger had subsided somewhat. Or perhaps the fat man was simply too miserly and feared damaging them and suffering a loss to his property.
Whatever the reason, the fat man finally stopped swinging his whip. Instead, he spat a thick glob of phlegm at the men, then turned and left.
"Phew-"
The men all breathed sighs of relief. They paid no attention whatsoever to the thick phlegm on their bodies. They were already filthy and did not care about getting a little filthier.
Nor did they bear a grudge over the whipping. Instead, they rejoiced-
Thank goodness the landlord was kindhearted and didn't make us put out the fire. How wonderful!
When the fat man reached the doorway, the fat on his body swaying.
A potbellied middle-aged man in a suit asked curiously:
"You actually didn't put out their warming fire? As I recall, that's hardly like you, Sir Kanel!"
"Hahaha-"
The fat man addressed as Kanel chuckled, then opened his mouth, full of yellow teeth and thoroughly steeped in tobacco smoke, to reply:
"This winter really is a little cold. Those lowly slaves may not be worth much, but if they really freeze themselves into ruin, I'll have a few less beasts to work for me."
"Then it seems our Sir Kanel is kindhearted after all!"
A smile appeared on the middle-aged man's face, too, as he teased him.
"Hah-if I, who regularly attend church services, am not kindhearted, are you saying you are, Gabriel?!"
Hearing Gabriel's teasing, Kanel immediately retorted.
Seeing that Kanel had actually become somewhat displeased over this joke, a trace of helplessness flashed through Gabriel's eyes. He hurriedly bowed and scraped, offering flattery:
"Naturally, our Sir Kanel is the more kindhearted one! In our Republic of Burkina, who hasn't heard of Sir Kanel's illustrious reputation?"
But who could have known that Gabriel's attempt to pat the horse's rump would land on its leg instead?
The moment Kanel heard those words, his face flushed red, and he roared furiously:
"Who hasn't heard? That brat named Sankara hasn't! I'm a knight personally invested by the emperor of France, and I lowered myself to go see him in person.
"But him? He's clearly still a little brat, yet he puts on such airs! Never mind that he didn't personally welcome me with tea-he actually dared send some random official to talk to me!
"Most importantly, never mind that he won't allow us to export cotton to France-he actually dares buy our cotton at a lower price than France offers?
"What does he mean by that? What does he mean?! Is he planning to slaughter us like fat pigs? I'm just afraid his teeth aren't good enough!"
Kanel was clearly furious.
But he had truly wronged Sankara, because Sankara, who was worked off his feet every day, did not even know such a person existed.
Ameli, the minister of agriculture who dealt with him directly, did not think much of him either, so she had simply sent an official to receive him.
But Kanel himself had no fucking awareness of that, which was why he was so angry.
His anger, however, was nothing but impotent rage.
It could not affect Sankara in the slightest!
Gabriel, standing in front of Kanel, was the one who suffered. The flying spittle nearly went straight into his mouth.
Smelling the stench gradually spreading through the air, Gabriel very nearly vomited on the spot.
Had he actually vomited, the scene would certainly have been even more spectacular!
Not only did he not vomit, but through tremendous willpower, he forcibly swallowed back the vomit that had already reached his mouth.
Gabriel took quite a while to recover, waiting for Kanel to cool down in the meantime.
Only when he saw that Karnei was no longer so angry did he speak:
"Calm down, sir. There's absolutely no need to make yourself ill with anger over such a small matter! If you really did, you'd only be giving that brat Sankara something to celebrate for nothing!
"Besides, aren't these matters precisely why we came to see you today? The others are all waiting for you inside! Let's go in and discuss this at leisure!"