Fangzhou Xier, starting with failing the art exam

He knew that this matter was unlikely to end well.

Sure enough, not long after, a team of city guards arrived at the scene.

The captain of the guards, seeing this tense scene, felt his scalp tingle.

"What's going on? Stop it, all of you!" the captain of the guards shouted sternly.

Ferlinan, as if seeing a savior, scrambled to the captain, crying out, "Help! This mob is rebelling! They're going to kill me!"

The captain of the guards frowned and looked at Lacey: "Put down your weapons and disperse the crowd immediately, or I will arrest you all on charges of 'inciting rebellion'!"

Lacey ignored him and looked instead at the guards behind him.

"My fellow guards," he said loudly, "how much do you earn a month? Three gold coins? Five? Is your salary enough to buy your wives a new dress? Is it enough to send your children to school?"

"While you stand guard on the city walls, enduring the wind and sun, this Mr. Ferlinan is sitting in the bathtub of his mansion, drinking red wine imported from Victoria!"

"While your family members are suffering because they can't afford medicine, he's using gold coins to make a collar for his pet dog!"

"He evades taxes, deducts workers' hard-earned money, and makes a fortune, while you are willing to work your lives for someone like him?"

"Tell me, is this fair?!"

His words silenced the guards.

Although they were guards, they were essentially civilians, and every word Lacey said struck a nerve.

The captain of the guards' face turned extremely ugly, and he roared, "Nonsense! Seize him!"

However, none of the guards behind him moved.

They looked at the workers who, like themselves, were struggling to breathe under the weight of life, and their eyes revealed sympathy and hesitation.

Your words have shaken the enemy's resolve.

[With the "United We Stand" effect activated, the workers and guards present significantly increased their sense of identification with you!]

Lacey could feel an even more powerful force surging into her body.

He stepped forward and looked directly into the captain of the guard's eyes: "Captain, we are not here today to rebel, but simply to seek justice."

"Whether these workers live or die is entirely up to you."

"Are you going to let your men turn their knives against their own countrymen for the sake of some fat, money-grubbing man?"

The captain of the guard looked into Lacey's determined eyes, then glanced at his hesitant subordinates behind him, and cold sweat beaded on his forehead.

He knew that if he gave the order to act today, these guards would likely mutini on the spot.

Finally, he gritted his teeth and growled at Ferlinan, "Ferlinan! This is a dispute between you and the workers, settle it yourselves! We are only responsible for maintaining order, not getting involved in your economic disputes!"

After saying that, he actually led his guards back a hundred meters, adopting an attitude of "we were just passing by to watch the show".

Ferlinan was completely dumbfounded.

His last patron has fallen.

Looking at those hundreds of fiery eyes and the gleaming sickles and axes in their hands, his legs went weak and he collapsed to the ground.

Half an hour later, the door of the Golden Scissors Dyehouse was opened.

Ferlinan was forced to produce all the account books, publicly pay all the back wages owed to the workers, and sign a new, fair employment agreement.

The Workers' Party sent representatives to the dyehouse to oversee the implementation of the agreement and the factory's production.

This was a victory without bloodshed.

The news sent shockwaves through Salem.

The Workers' Party's popularity reached its peak.

……

Holy Leitanian Empire: Chapter Nine: Countess Leinia

The news of the victory spread like wildfire, reaching every corner of the slums overnight.

People were excitedly talking about it on the streets, in crowded cheap pubs, and in drafty shacks.

They weren't just talking about how the fat man Ferlinan got his comeuppance and how the workers got their hard-earned money back; they were also talking about that name—Lassie.

And the organization behind him—the Leitanian Workers' Party.

The name seems to possess a certain magic.

It brought life back to those faces that had been numb all day.

The despair and emptiness in people's eyes are fading, replaced by a long-lost light called "hope".

The Workers' Party headquarters, that abandoned warehouse, had become the busiest place in the slums.

During the day, a dozen or so old wooden planks were set up in the open space of the warehouse to serve as blackboards; this was the Workers' Party's literacy class.

Serafina invited several elderly gentlemen with some education from the slums to teach the illiterate workers and their children.

Sunlight streamed through holes in the warehouse roof, forming beams of light that shimmered with dust and illuminated the focused faces of the workers.

A dockworker with a full beard, as big as a bear, was holding a charcoal pencil and, like a primary school student, crookedly tracing his name on rough paper.

With each stroke of his pen, he would lick his lips, his focused expression drawing snickers from the children nearby.

"What are you laughing at!" The burly man's face turned red, and he roared in a rough voice.

"I learned to write so that I could understand the Party's program in the future, unlike you bunch of brats who only think about recognizing more characters so you can peek at the love letters girls write!"

The children laughed even harder, and the whole warehouse was filled with a joyful atmosphere.

Serafina leaned against the door, watching this scene, and a smile unconsciously crept onto her lips.

In addition to literacy classes, the Workers' Party's internal organizational structure was also rapidly established during this period.

Taylor the blacksmith, this honest and loyal man, officially became the captain of the Workers' Party action team.

His mission is to lead a team of the strongest and bravest members to maintain order in the slums, protect the members from harassment by thugs, and deal with any possible emergencies.

The team members did not have sophisticated weapons; they still carried the same sickles and axes.

Serafina became Lacey's most capable deputy, and she was in charge of intelligence and censorship.

Lacey himself devoted most of his energy to ideological building and organizational development.

He divided nearly a thousand party members into dozens of branches according to their residential areas and the nature of their work.

Each branch has one secretary and two committee members, who are responsible for daily liaison, publicity and mutual assistance.

Every evening, Lacey would convene these grassroots leaders for a meeting to hear their reports, resolve the problems they encountered, and convey the latest instructions from the Workers' Party.

The Workers' Party is like a tree rooted in barren soil, its roots penetrating every corner of the slums, taking root and sprouting at an astonishing speed, tightly connecting tens of thousands of people who were originally scattered.

The slums are undergoing tremendous changes.

The streets are much cleaner now because members spontaneously organize themselves to clean up.

There have been fewer arguments and fights because the action team will arrive immediately to mediate.

People smiled because the bread and milk from the discount store meant they no longer had to worry about their next meal.

More importantly, a completely new spirit is quietly taking shape on this land.

People began to believe that they were not lambs to the slaughter, and that as long as they united, they could change their destiny.

……

Salem, the Earl's residence.

The luxurious room was carpeted with snow-white carpets from Sami, and the walls were adorned with oil paintings by famous Victorian artists. The room was filled with the aroma of expensive spices.

A woman dressed in an elegant silk gown, with a slightly plump figure, was lounging lazily on the sofa, gently swirling the red liquid in her glass with her lace-gloved hand.

She was one of the most powerful people in the city, and even the region, the Countess of Salem, Count Lenia.

Before her stood a well-dressed butler, bowing low and reporting in a low voice.

"...Your Excellency, according to reports from our informants in the slums, the growth rate of that Workers' Party has exceeded our expectations."

“They not only controlled the Golden Scissors Dyehouse, but also established their own armed forces and organizational system. Now, the entire slum has almost become their territory, and even the city guards dare not set foot there easily.”

Upon hearing this, Countess Lenia's red lips curled up, and she licked her lips with the tip of her scarlet tongue, but there was no smile in her eyes.

"Armed forces?" She chuckled lightly, a hint of disdain in her voice. "They're just a bunch of peasants playing house with farm tools."

“But… sir,” the butler hesitated for a moment before saying, “that leader named Lacey is very persuasive.”

“His slogans, such as ‘bread and milk’ and ‘take back everything that belongs to us,’ resonated strongly with the working class.”

“If this continues, it may shake the foundation of your rule.”

“Of course I know.” Countess Lenia sat up straight and placed her wine glass heavily on the table, the scarlet liquid swirling in it.

"However, my foundation is the Elector's trust, the taxes of Salem, and the factories and shops, not those lowly people."

"They're like leeks; once you cut one crop, another will grow back. When did it become their turn to be in charge?"

Even so, her fingers tapped rhythmically on the table, revealing her inner turmoil.

A guy who can make a tough nut like Ferlinan submit, make the city guards back down in the face of battle, and raise a force of thousands in just over half a month is definitely not just a crazy man who shouts slogans.

“And, sir,” the butler said in a low voice.

"The latest news is that Her Majesties the two queens seem to have heard about the unrest in the border cities. Although they did not explicitly name Salem, the Elector has sent word that we must maintain stability in the area."

“...Empress.” Countess Lenia’s pupils contracted slightly.

The methods of those two new emperors are far more ruthless than their appearances suggest; the fate of the former witch king is still fresh in everyone's mind.

“Stable… Hmph!” Countess Lenia sneered. “It seems it’s time to meet this king of the slums.”

She stood up, walked to the window, and looked down at the brightly lit Salem city center.

"A firefly that lights a fire in the dark, or obediently flies into my palm to light my way."

“Either…” a ruthless glint flashed in her eyes, “or they will be crushed.”

"Get the car ready," she ordered without turning her head. "Tomorrow, I'm going to the slums myself to meet that Workers' Party leader."

The butler felt a chill and quickly bowed and withdrew.

……

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Holy Leitanian Empire: Chapter Ten: Are You Teaching Me How to Do Things? [Requesting recommendation votes and monthly tickets~]

the next morning.

Several luxury SUVs slowly drove into the slum.

The previously noisy crowds on both sides of the street instantly fell silent.

People scrambled into roadside shacks, casting glances of awe, curiosity, or hatred through the cracks in the doors and windows.

They recognized the coat of arms on the hood; it was the emblem of the true ruler of Salem—Count Lenia.

The vehicle eventually stopped in front of the Workers' Party headquarters, an abandoned warehouse.

Taylor the blacksmith led dozens of his team members, each armed with an axe, who stood in two rows, nervously blocking the warehouse entrance.

Although they were fearless when facing Ferlinan's guards, their palms couldn't help but sweat when facing this legendary figure.

The car door opened, and a butler in a tuxedo jumped out and respectfully laid out a small red carpet.

Then, a foot clad in an exquisite leather boot stepped onto the carpet, and Countess Lenia bent down and stepped out of the carriage.

Today she wore a well-tailored black riding outfit that perfectly accentuated her voluptuous and alluring figure.

Her long, golden hair was piled up behind her head, and she wore a polite yet distant smile typical of aristocrats.

Her gaze swept over the ragged, weapon-wielding mob before her, her eyes showing no fear whatsoever, but rather as if she were enjoying some kind of amusing performance.

"Which one of you is Mr. Lacey?"

The crowd parted, and Lacey emerged from the warehouse.

Today he changed into a clean set of coarse cloth clothes, and his hair was neatly combed.

He walked alone to Countess Lenia.

The two were only five steps apart when their eyes met in mid-air.