The image began to Distortion, blurred, and disappear.
Klein emerged from that dreamlike experience, his vision adjusting to the darkness of the bedroom.
He knew that his brother Benson was earning 1 pound 10 Soli, or 30 Soli a week, which was quite a struggle for him and Melissa by the standards of a normal commoner.
He assumed that most workers would earn 20 Soli per week.
He had heard Melissa mention that on the Lower Street of Iron Cross Street, some families of five, seven, or even ten people lived in the same room.
He learned from Benson that the kingdom had experienced an economic downturn in the previous months due to the situation in the Southern Continent.
He knew that maids who did odd jobs and had room and board could earn 3 to Soli Soli week.
Klein reached out and pinched his brow, remaining silent for a long time until Sir Deville, lying on the bed, spoke:
"Officer, aren't you going to say something? The Psychiatrist I've seen before always talks to me and asks me questions in situations like this."
"However, I did feel a sense of peace. I was almost asleep, but I didn't hear any groans or cries."
How did you do that?
Klein leaned back in his rocking chair, offering a question instead of an answer, and said in a calm voice:
"Sir, do you know about lead poisoning? Do you know the dangers of lead?"
"..." Lying on the bed, Deville was silent for a few seconds before saying, "I didn't know before, but I found out later. You mean, my psychological problems, or rather, my mental illness, are because I feel guilty, guilty towards those lead-making women and glazing women?"
Before Klein could answer, he continued, just as he always did when he seized the initiative in negotiations:
"Yes, I did feel guilty at one time, but I made amends to them long ago. In my lead and porcelain factories, each worker earns significantly more than in similar places. In Backlund, lead and glazing women earn no more than 8 Soli a week, while I pay them 10 Soli, or even more."
"Ha, many people accuse me of making them lose their moral standing and having difficulty recruiting workers. If the Corn Laws hadn't been repealed, many farmers would have gone bankrupt and moved to the cities, and they would have had to follow my lead and raise their wages."
"Furthermore, I told the factory supervisors to remove workers who experienced frequent headaches and blurred vision from areas where they could come into contact with lead. If they became seriously ill, they could apply for assistance from my charitable foundation."
"I think I've done enough."
Klein spoke without the slightest fluctuation in his tone:
"Sir, sometimes you can't imagine how important a salary is to a poor person. Even if they are only unemployed for a week or two, their families will suffer irreversible and extremely tragic damage."
He paused for a moment, then asked:
"I'm curious, why don't you, with such a compassionate heart, install protective equipment against dust and lead poisoning in the factory?"
Deville stared at the ceiling and gave a bitter laugh.
"That would make my costs unacceptably high, making it impossible for me to compete with other lead and porcelain factories. I'm no longer too concerned about profits in this area, and I'm even willing to subsidize some of it, but what's the point if things continue like this? It can only help a small number of workers and cannot become an industry standard to drive them to make changes."
"This would mean I'm simply spending money to support people. I've heard that some factories are even secretly using slaves to save costs."
Klein clasped his hands together, remained silent for a moment, and then said:
"Sir, your psychological problems stem from this accumulation of guilt, which you thought had faded and disappeared. Normally, this wouldn't have had any significant impact, but something triggered it, igniting all the problems at once."
"Something has upset me? I don't know anything about that," Deville said, both doubtful and certain.
Klein let his body sway gently with the rocking chair and explained in a calm tone:
"You actually fell asleep for a few minutes and told me something."
" Hypnosis?" Deville habitually guessed, drawing conclusions beforehand.
Klein didn't give a direct answer, but said directly:
"You once saw a female worker who died on her way to work in a carriage. She died of lead poisoning and was glazing your porcelain before she died."
"..." Deville rubbed his temples, muttering uncertainly, "There seems to be such a thing... but I don't remember it very clearly..."
His prolonged insomnia had left him in poor mental condition, and he vaguely seemed to see similar scenes.
He thought for a moment, then stopped straining his poor brain and asked instead:
What was that female worker's name?
"Um, I mean, what should I do to treat my psychological problems?"
Klein answered in a low, concise voice:
Two things.
"First, the female worker who died by the roadside was named Hayley Walker. She was the one who suffered the most direct trauma, so you need to find her parents and offer them more compensation."
"Second, widely publicize the dangers of lead in newspapers and magazines, and have your charitable foundation help more affected workers. If you can become a senator, then push for legislation in this area."
Deville slowly sat up, gave a self-deprecating laugh, and said:
"I'll do everything else, but legislation? Ha, I think it's impossible. There are foreign competitors, and legislation will only plunge the kingdom's industries into a systemic crisis, leading to bankruptcies one after another and mass unemployment. The charity organizations can't save that many people."
He slowly rolled out of bed, straightened his collar, and looked at Klein, saying:
" Hayley Walker, right? I'll have Cullen go to the porcelain factory to get her file immediately and find her parents. Officer, please wait with me and assess my mental state as needed."
"Okay." Klein slowly stood up and patted his black and white checkered police uniform.
At 11:00 AM, in the living room on the first floor of the Deville family's house.
Klein, who hadn't said much, sat on the single sofa and silently watched as a man and a woman were led in by the butler Cullen.
The two guests had rough skin and wrinkles on their faces. The man's back was slightly hunched, and the woman had a mole on her eyelid.
They were basically the same as the ones Klein saw through Hayley, but older and more haggard, so thin you could almost see their bones, dressed in old and tattered clothes, and supposedly barely able to stay on the Lower Street of Iron Cross Street.
Waaah...
In Klein's Spirit Intuition, a chilly wind began to swirl.
He pinched the bridge of his nose and turned his gaze to Sir Deville, where he saw a pale, transparent, and Distortion figure that had appeared behind him at some point.
"Good morning, Your Excellency, sir," Hayley's parents greeted with unusual leniency.
Deville rubbed his forehead and asked:
"Are you Hayley Walker's parents? Doesn't she have a brother and a two-year-old sister?"
Hayley's mother replied fearfully, "Her brother broke his leg at the docks a while ago, and we've left him at home to take care of his sister."
Deville was silent for a few seconds, then sighed and said:
"I deeply sympathize with Hayley's misfortune."
Upon hearing this, both of Hayley's parents' eyes immediately welled up with tears, and they each spoke in a jumbled, incoherent manner:
Thank you, thank you for your kindness.
"The police told us, told us, that Hayley died of lead poisoning, or something like that? Oh, my poor child, she was only seventeen. She was always so quiet and so stubborn."
"You sent someone to see her and funded her burial; she is buried in Raphael Cemetery."
Deville glanced at Klein, shifted his posture, leaned forward, and said in a heavy tone:
"This was actually our oversight, and I need to apologize."
"I've thought about it. I have to compensate you, compensate Hayley. Her weekly wage is 10 Soli, right? That's 540 Soli a year, um, 27 pounds. Let's assume she can work for at least another 10 years."
" Cullen, give 300 pounds to Hayley's parents."
"3,300 pounds?" Hayley's father and mother were stunned.
Even at their most comfortable time, they never had more than a pound in savings!
Not only them, but the bodyguards and servants in the living room were also shocked and envious. Even Sheriff Gate couldn't help but breathe heavily—his weekly wage was only two pounds, while his only "V" officer earned only one pound.
In an unspeakable silence, the butler, Cullen, emerged from the study, carrying a bulging cloth bag.
He opened the bag, revealing stacks of banknotes inside, some 1-pound notes, some 5-pound notes, but mostly Soli- and 5- Soli.
It's clear that Deville had someone exchange some "small change" from the bank beforehand.
"This is a token of the Lord's appreciation." With her master's approval, Cullen handed the bag to Hayley's parents.
Hayley's father and mother took it, rubbed their eyes, and looked at it again and again.
"No, this is too generous, we shouldn't accept it," they said, clutching the cloth bag tightly.
Deville said in a deep voice:
"This is rightfully Hayley's."
"You, you are a noble and kind knight!" Hayley's parents bowed repeatedly in gratitude.
A smile spread across their faces, an uncontrollable smile.
They praised Sir Deville over and over again, repeating the few adjectives they had, and repeatedly saying that Hayley would surely be grateful to him in heaven.
" Cullen, send them back. Hmm, take them to the bank first." Deville breathed a sigh of relief and instructed the butler.
Hayley's father and mother clutched the cloth bag tightly and hurried toward the door without pausing.
Klein saw the pale, translucent figure behind Sir Deville reach out to them, trying to follow them away, but they smiled brightly and didn't turn around.
The figure grew fainter and fainter until it disappeared completely.
In Klein's perception, the coldness of the living room suddenly seemed normal.
He simply watched quietly from beginning to end, without offering any opinion.
"Officer, I feel much better now. Can you tell me why my butler, servants, and bodyguards could also hear the crying and groaning? Shouldn't this be a psychological problem unique to me?" Deville looked over curiously.
Inspector Tolle, who knew the inside story, immediately became nervous.
Klein replied expressionlessly:
In psychology, this phenomenon is called mass hysteria.
P. S.: The female workers in the previous chapter were based on Jack London Inhabitants of the Abyss: Observations from London's East Borough *.