Warhammer: The Time Traveler

Chapter 279 The Reasonable Earl (First Update)
Just as Mann fell silent and the team members hesitated due to a strong sense of déjà vu, a deep and majestic engine roar came from the other end of the passage.

A black ground vehicle with an antique design, sharp lines, and decorated with imperial eagles and noble crests, stopped outside the factory's blockade line, surrounded by several private guards in fine armor.

The car door slid open, and a tall, middle-aged man stepped out, dressed in a refined but not glamorous suit, more akin to practical aristocratic attire.

His face was resolute, his eyes sharp, and his steps steady. There was a clear, old scar on his left cheek, as if it had been grazed by some kind of energy weapon. He exuded a fierce aura that only veterans who had been through many battles could possess, making him completely different from the pampered nobles of the Nest City.

When the commander of the Department of Justice and Sheriff Atkins saw him, they immediately straightened up and bowed respectfully.

"My Lord Count!"

The man known as the Earl nodded slightly, his gaze sweeping over the chaotic factory gate before settling on the Mann squad and the two Iron Guard prototypes. A barely perceptible look of surprise flashed in his eyes, but he quickly regained his composure.

“I am Count Cassius von Gresham.” His voice was not loud, but it carried an unquestionable authority as he directly addressed the commander of the Ministry of Justice, without even speaking to Mann and the others first. “What is the situation now? What are the workers’ demands?”

His attitude surprised Mann.

Instead of getting angry or demanding immediate suppression, he first inquired about the situation, which showed his pragmatism.

The commander immediately reported: "Your Excellency, the workers are protesting the excessive working hours and demanding increased rations and reduced working hours. They have sabotaged three automated production lines and detained four workshop supervisors."

After hearing the report, Earl Gresham's face showed no emotion, but his gaze swept over the closed factory gates again, and the scar appeared even more pronounced in the dim light.

He was silent for a few seconds, as if he was weighing something in that brief pause.

"The production line cannot be shut down for too long." He finally spoke again, his tone calm but with an undeniable determination. "Restore order as soon as possible. Control the core elements who are instigating the disturbance and damaging the equipment, and deal with them according to the law."

For the majority who were merely instigated or coerced, they can be let off the hook as long as they are willing to return to their jobs immediately.

He looked at the commander, his eyes sharp: "My request is clear—restore production and avoid unnecessary losses. The Ministry of Justice knows what to do."

“Understood, Your Excellency.” The commander nodded immediately, his tone full of confidence. “That’s our intention as well: to solve the problem, maintain production, and keep the bloodshed to a minimum.”

At that moment, while Earl Gresham was inspecting the factory gates, Mann whispered to Sheriff Atkins beside him, "Is the treatment in his factory... really that bad? Why are the workers protesting?"

Sheriff Atkins glanced at Count Gresham's retreating figure, lowered his voice, and quickly replied, his tone even carrying a hint of helplessness: "On the contrary, Count Gresham's factory has a standard working hour of sixteen hours and provides a nutritious lunch."

This is already top-tier treatment in Vesta Prima's mid-nest.

Other factories in the surrounding area generally have 18-hour shifts with no lunch, only basic synthetic nutritional paste.

Some unscrupulous workshops even extend working hours to twenty hours a day… The workers' riots were probably instigated, or… it was just an outlet for pent-up resentment.”

Mann and his teammates exchanged glances, and they all saw disbelief on each other's faces.

A 16-hour workday plus lunch is considered "generous treatment" here?
In Night City, even the most destitute homeless can find a moment of peace in the garbage, while for the workers here, even breathing is a luxury.

Dorothy unconsciously clenched her fists, remembering the days when the animal gang at least allowed them the freedom to fight and brawl.

Pira subconsciously pushed up her goggles, as if that would allow her to see the suffocating reality before her more clearly. "At least this count is reasonable," Rebecca said, her voice unusually restrained. "If it were Arasaka or military technology, they would have sent armored vehicles in long ago."

Mann nodded silently.

Indeed, compared to the corporate methods they were familiar with, the Earl and the legal department's approach was quite restrained.

Although their positions differ, at least they are not trying to exterminate each other.

He took a deep breath, preparing to give orders to coordinate with the bailiffs—

Just then, a completely different set of footsteps came from the end of the passage.

The sound was heavy and rhythmic, with the crisp sound of metal heels striking the ground, contrasting sharply with the chaotic footsteps of the bailiffs.

As the footsteps drew closer, the air seemed to freeze, and even the once bustling factory gates fell silent.

The first thing to come into view was a squad of soldiers clad in blue armor, their equipment astonishingly sophisticated: unfamiliar insignia were etched on their shoulder armor, and their hell guns and plasma weapons gleamed coldly.

These soldiers moved as if they were cut from the same mold, every turn and every step perfectly synchronized.

The planetary defense forces soldiers followed closely behind, surging in like a tide and quickly occupying various strategic positions.

Their numbers were so great that they almost completely blocked the passage.

The new soldiers coldly surveyed the former bailiff team, their eyes filled with icy cruelty.

Mann noticed that Earl Gresham's face turned ashen instantly, and the Commander of the Ministry of Justice's fingers had unconsciously pressed against the holster at his waist.

This kind of setup clearly doesn't indicate they're there to mediate labor disputes.

At the heart of this group is a man draped in a black robe, his face hidden in the shadow of his hood, revealing only a sharply defined chin.

He wore a striking badge on his chest—a red "I" with a white skull in the center.

Upon seeing the emblem, Earl Gresham and all the members of the legal department turned deathly pale, and even their breathing became labored.

The man, dressed in a crisp dark gray officer's overcoat and wearing the conspicuous insignia, stepped forward.

His face was stern, and his eyes were as sharp as a hawk's, sweeping across the room with a sense of oppressive scrutiny.

His voice was steady, yet as cold as the polar wind, devoid of any warmth: "In the name of the Holy Inquisition. I am Inquisitor Keras Walker, a member of the Holy Hammer Order."

His announcement seemed to freeze the air around him.

“We detected abnormal psionic fluctuations and signs of heretical activity in this nest. Based on cross-referencing of intelligence.” He paused, each word clear and heavy.

(End of this chapter)