This Isn’t an E*otic Game?

The reactions of the labor theorists in the room were split into two main categories.

One group was the silent ones, endlessly staring down at the documents related to Mammon’s followers without saying a word.

The other group was filled with anger.

“This is a lie! We would never do such a thing!”

“Become a camp director and oversee the identification, brainwashing, and torture of counter-revolutionaries? Me? How could I? I could never be someone who tortures my fellow workers! I couldn’t do that!!”

I quietly waited for them to vent their anger.

I waited for them to deny reality, for them to pour out all their unease and fear.

For 30 minutes, the labor theorists raged like a storm, shouting in confusion, but one by one, they eventually slumped into their seats.

Now, all of them were silent.

Kal Lenaro put the paper down and, trembling, covered his face with both hands.

I glanced at the contents of the paper he had put down.

A future where famine is intentionally created to starve countless people to death.

Becoming a dictator, taking countless lives until death, creating a country where everyone is equally poor instead of a workers' paradise.

A future where, driven by the fear of counter-revolutionaries, many political opponents are removed and eliminated under the pretext of rooting out spies.

Then, eventually, they would distrust everyone, and in the end, while governing the vast empire alone, they would collapse from a brain hemorrhage but be unable to receive treatment in time because the guards couldn’t enter due to their delusions, ultimately dying.

And his corpse, once dead, would be displayed in a glass coffin, worshipped by future labor theorists.

“Lies. This can’t be me. I— I only wanted to improve the conditions for oppressed workers! I couldn’t have ended up like this!” Kal Lenaro screamed in anguish.

“Mammon is gone now, isn’t he? Saint? So, this future surely won’t come true, right? The labor theorists! My comrades!! I... I couldn’t become so ugly! Please, tell me it isn’t true!!”

I didn’t answer him.

I had already answered.

They just couldn’t accept it.

One of the labor theorists muttered, as if in despair.

“It would have been better if it was some nonsense written down, but it’s too convincing, it’s terrifying. If it were really like this, then maybe I would have really turned out like the person in these papers.”

Another labor theorist agreed.

“My past. My personality. Even my trauma and beliefs. Everything was planned and calculated. I don’t know how they knew all of it.”

Someone suddenly started laughing.

“What have we been fighting for all this time? If this is what it will come to, what was the point of all the suffering and effort we’ve put in?”

“Did we really just end up making countless workers suffer, starve, and destroy them with our own hands!!”

Someone responded angrily.

“Mammon is gone!! We must fight for revolution again! Aren’t the workers still suffering and being oppressed!!”

“How pathetic to hear revolutionaries saying such weak things!!”

“Are we just supposed to watch as workers are exploited by the capitalists!!”

And once again, a rebuttal erupted.

“Even if Mammon is gone!! Isn’t there a guarantee that the things written in these papers won’t come true?”

“The lackeys are only speeding up these plans. Everything in this plan, in the end, was carried out by our hands!! We’re talking about the future we’ll create ourselves!!”

“If we didn’t know the future, it would be one thing. But now that we do, we can’t just sit still!! We need to dismantle it! We need to dismantle the organization and stop everything right now!!”

“What about the suffering workers!!”

“It would be better if we weren’t here!! If that future from these papers comes true, it would be better to just groan under the capitalists!!”

“Are you suggesting we should make countless workers suffer with our own hands!!”

After a few more meaningless shouts, silence fell once again.

Now, the labor theorists had no idea what to do.

They couldn’t stay still, but they also couldn’t move.

On their faces, once filled with mission and passion, confusion, fear, and above all, despair began to settle in.

One labor theorist, destined to become a camp director, torturing and brainwashing countless workers, began to cry.

A passionate young female labor theorist, who had declared her dedication to women’s rights, stared blankly at the air.

A human butcher, known for torturing people by making up false charges as the head of an intelligence network, sat there smoking, grinning in despair.

And at the center of all those desperate futures...

The future dictator and murderer, the man who would become the idol in the glass coffin, looked at me.

“Saint. Please help us.”

There was no confidence in his voice.

No passion in his attitude.

The eyes that once burned with determination were now filled with soft, flowing tears.

“Where should we go?”

He asked me this, his face full of despair.

I gave him the obvious answer.

“Isn’t it obvious?”

I smiled at them.

Despite their truly desperate appearance, they were giving me hope.

Not yet.

They were not yet the camp directors torturing people, the ruthless dictators, or the mad killers who had slaughtered more workers than any capitalist.

They were people terrified and despairing of the future they would become.

They were people with lingering compassion for workers.

They were not twisted, broken people who had lost their way due to the intoxication of power.

They were still the ones who could walk the right path.

“You are revolutionaries, aren’t you? Then you must continue the revolution.”

“But you know what the revolution will bring. Don’t you?”

“I know. That’s why we must revolutionize in a different way.”

“A different way of revolution?”

“Join the Grace Order. And with the influence of the Grace Order and the capital of Karma Company, change the «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» empire.”

I smiled at Kal Lenaro, who was staring at me with his mouth agape in disbelief.

“Become a revolutionary who strikes the capitalists not with bullets and bombs, but with capital and law.”

****

As expected, immediate backlash erupted.

“Are you telling us to become dogs of the capitalists!!?”

“Karma Company is ultimately just another capitalist entity!! To work under the religious figures and capitalists!!”

The labor theorists were furious, but as soon as I spoke again, they all fell silent.

“I plan to make you one of the officially recognized administrative agencies by the imperial family, through the power of Karma Company and the Grace Order. It will be directly under the imperial family’s control.”

The idea of underground terrorists becoming an administrative agency directly controlled by the imperial family...

At this absurd statement, the labor theorists were left speechless, blinking their eyes in disbelief.

But I was serious.

I slowly explained my plan to them.

“Workers suffering because of the greed of capitalists still lie scattered all over the empire. And the resentment of these workers is being used to fatten the bellies of demon worshippers and followers of the evil gods. The match factory in the capital was being run this way, and Mammon was present in Scrap Yard. If we use this justification, we can move the Temple.”

The Temple wasn’t a power organization, but given the number of believers spread across the empire and its influence in various sectors of society, it was far from something that could be easily ignored.

And the Temple was an organization that I could move like my own limbs. No sect would be able to refuse the justification of weakening the power of the evil gods and demon worshippers while improving workers' rights.

“Furthermore, if we use the connections and money of Karma Company, moving the Senate and creating new laws would not be difficult. With a flawless justification and strong public support, and approval from the imperial family, you will likely quickly become one of the official administrative agencies of the empire.”

“That’s absurd...”

“With my influence, I can make it happen. After becoming a legitimate organization, you will be tasked with investigating violations of workers' rights and exploitation across the empire, and punishing the capitalists who exploit them.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes, I am serious. After that, you will revive the economy in the areas you serve and create high-quality jobs for the workers. Karma Company and the imperial family will help you.”

At my words, the labor theorists began to murmur again.

“You want us to work for the capitalists and powerholders?”

“What kind of revolution is that? We’d be just leashed dogs!”

“Is this really the direction we should be heading?”

“Isn’t this telling us to abandon the revolution and become slaves to the current system?”

It seemed difficult for them to accept, and the murmurs grew louder. But when Kal Lenaro raised his hand, everyone fell silent.

“If the Grace Order and Karma Company are exploiting the workers, then what?”

“If they are exploiting, then punish them according to the law. On the other hand, if you begin to show signs of corruption, just as described in Mammon’s documents, then the Grace Order and Karma Company will stop you.”

“So you mean that the organization will be completed through mutual checks?”

“That’s right.”

I extended my hand toward Kal Lenaro.

“Let go of your thirst for power. Let go of hatred, anger, and violence. Instead, think of the suffering workers. And don’t just use that compassion—help them escape from their vulnerable positions.”

“...”

“Instead of thinking of eliminating the capitalists, you should create a world where they can provide quality jobs. Don’t just focus on their faults, but help them show their strengths.”

I looked at the man who would become the camp director.

“Use your interrogation skills not to abuse the workers and maintain the dictator’s power, but to expose the faults of the capitalists.”

I looked at the man who would become the head of the intelligence agency, capable of creating false charges.

“Use your sharp observation to investigate the workers’ suffering and publicize it for everyone to see.”

I looked at the woman who had fought for women’s rights.

“Don’t incite women to hate men. Instead, work to help both men and women accept each other’s differences and love each other. Help create a world where both women and men are treated fairly according to their talents.”

I looked at all the labor theorists.

“Move with compassion, not hatred or anger. The world still needs you. There are still countless workers suffering. What if you accept help from capitalists and the power structure? If the workers can live well and smile, isn’t that what matters? Isn’t that why you gathered here?”

I extended my hand further.

“Take my hand.”

The labor theorists didn’t answer immediately.

A profound silence filled the room.

After a long moment...

Kal Lenaro cautiously took my hand.

He turned his head to look at the labor theorists standing behind him.

“This is my choice. It’s the only choice we have. Comrades, do you agree?”

No one nodded openly, but...

There was no vehement opposition either.

It was silent consent.

Kal Lenaro, seeing this, smirked, then turned his gaze back to me.

“I never thought I’d say this, but... what will be the name of the administrative agency we’ll be working under? A place that’s gathered with terrorists and criminals... maybe ‘Terror Bureau’?”

“Isn’t there a more fitting name?”

With a sarcastic tone, Kal Lenaro asked, and I gripped his hand tightly before answering.

“Ministry of Labor.”