Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 133 Police Station
It was an ordinary day in early September. More than half a month had passed without any wild beasts attacking people, and the wolf plague seemed to be completely over.

Life in Wolf Town is gradually returning to normal, but in some ways it can never go back to its original trajectory.

Winters has been in office for over a month, and he has gradually become familiar with and adapted to life in Wolftown.

Life here was peaceful and quiet, and everyone around him treated him kindly. Before he knew it, his laid-back, carefree nature began to awaken, and he started to have an idea: perhaps settling down in this secluded town wouldn't be a bad choice.

That afternoon, Winters left the carpenter's house and went straight back to the town hall.

Pushing open the door, Panveche was still hunched over his desk, writing and calculating as usual. Winters nodded in greeting and entered the office.

Gilard wasn't in the town hall; only Reid was in the room, where the old mendicant monk was comfortably dozing in a deckchair by the window.

Winters angrily kicked the recliner lightly. After a long while, the old man slowly opened his eyes.

"Where are they?" Winters asked.

"You slipped out to play, didn't you?" Brother Reed replied casually.

"Aren't you going to do anything about it?"

"The master leads you through the door, but the cultivation is up to you. I have always been..." The old cultivator yawned and recited a passage in a foreign language with intonation: "[Selica language] Jiang Taigong fishes, and those who are willing will take the bait."

Winters couldn't understand what the old monk was saying in the second half, but he knew that arguing with a charlatan was a waste of breath.

He stormed out of the town hall and yelled into the backyard, "Get over here, all of you!"

Before long, Bell was the first to walk over, looking dejected, followed by Anglu, and then... Pierre, the son of Mayor Mitchell.

The three boys, barely out of their teens, dared not meet Winters's gaze and tried their best to avoid the lieutenant's eyes. Winters then dragged them all back to the town hall.

Brother Reid coughed lightly, feigning seriousness as he lectured, "[Selica language] I, an old man of vast learning and extensive travels, have condescended to come and enlighten you. Yet you lads do not appreciate it. Little do you know that while you may have time to play today, you will surely regret it tomorrow..."

"Who understands what you're saying!" Winters couldn't help but shout. "Don't presume to preach in a language that others can't understand!"

After knowing him for a while, Winters discovered that the old charlatan preferred to speak in Far Eastern languages, especially when he was drunk or wanted to play a prank on someone.

“I accidentally used my mother tongue, sorry, sorry.” Brother Reed showed no remorse. “But you also bear responsibility for these lads neglecting their studies, Lieutenant.”

What responsibility do I bear?

The old monk spoke eloquently: "Mr. Panviche is more than capable of handling the task of enlightenment. Isn't it a waste of his talents to ask me to do it?"

“I’d love for Mr. Panveche to come,” Winters sneered. “Then you two could take over Mr. Panveche’s paperwork and switch roles.”

After bringing the young horseman and hunter to town, Winters discovered that the two boys' level of education was pathetic.

They can pronounce individual letters, but they don't recognize them when they're put together. Two fifteen or sixteen-year-old boys can't even write their own names, and they have to use their fingers to do addition and subtraction within ten.

This is understandable, as most people in Wolftown are illiterate. The Dussacs are even more so, and even the town's mayor, Gerald Mitchell, is illiterate.

Winters, who came from the Commercial Republic, believed that having some writing skills would be very useful to Bell and Anglu, at least in the future they would be able to understand the most basic contracts and accounts and not be cheated.

So Winters decided to hire a tutor for Bell and Anglu to teach them the most basic vocabulary and arithmetic.

The most suitable person for this job was undoubtedly Panvich, a middle-aged housekeeper with beautiful handwriting and impeccable bookkeeping skills. Most importantly, he was diligent, conscientious, and responsible.

However, Pan Wei was already burdened with multiple jobs, including housekeeper, scribe, and accountant, and Winters felt embarrassed to add another burden to him.

The two clergymen at Wolf Town Church were well-educated; it was said that some nobles would hire priests as tutors, while others would simply hire people to read and write for them.

But Priests Anthony and Carmen wouldn't come to teach the two poor boys to read and do arithmetic, not even if Winters asked them.

As for the other literate farmers and craftsmen in Wolf Town, they could only barely read and write, and they were probably not skilled enough to teach.

After much deliberation, Winters realized that Brother Reid was the only option left.

Although the old mendicant monk was from the Far East, he had studied at a Catholic seminary for several years after his conversion and consecration, so his level of education was beyond doubt.

Moreover, based on Winters's intuitive feeling, Reed did not have the arrogance inherent in other clergy.

Even the most humble clergy are inherently arrogant as "God's shepherds," because they believe they are closer to God and the Kingdom of Heaven than anyone else. The metaphor of "shepherd" itself is the greatest arrogance.

But Rhett, the old charlatan, didn't have this problem. He could apply for a scribe job without batting an eye, and teaching poor boys to read probably wouldn't hurt his dignity. Perhaps, as the old man himself said, "I became a priest for the convenience of travel."

So after some haggling, Winters agreed to pay an extra teacher's salary, and Reed agreed to teach Bell and Anglu literacy and arithmetic.

But Winters hadn't anticipated that the old charlatan's laziness was deeply ingrained, and the young hunter and stable boy frequently found excuses to skip class. Red not only didn't care, but was actually happy to have the peace and quiet.

“If you’re getting paid more, you should at least do some work, right?” Winters said sarcastically to the old charlatan.

Unexpectedly, Brother Reid casually pointed at Pierre and said, "If it's just about teaching these two children to read and do arithmetic, Mr. Little Cher is more than capable of doing it."

Pierre was here because of his mother.

Hearing that Lieutenant Montagne had asked Father Rhett to tutor the two young Dussacs, Madame Mitchell sent Pierre over as well.

However, Mr. Mitchell could already write and do arithmetic. According to Gerald Mitchell, it was his wife, Ellen Mitchell, who personally taught him when he was young.

Winters had to go and explain that he had only asked Father Reed to give the two young Dussacs a basic education, and that Little Cher was not learning anything at all.

But to everyone's surprise, Mrs. Mitchell replied, "It would be of great benefit to Pierre to spend more time with Father Reed and Lieutenant Montagne. The boy is always getting into trouble, so please keep a close eye on him for us."

Mrs. Mitchell's reasoning left Winters speechless. Moreover, he had received generous help from the Mitchell family since arriving in Wolftown, and by comparison, adding a table and chairs next to the two little Dussacs was hardly a return.

Pierre Gerardovich Mitchell thus became Brother Reid's third student, and the old charlatan accepted all comers without taking the opportunity to demand a raise from Winters.

Anglou and Pierre were originally playmates, and Bale, having stayed at Mitchell's house during the wolf attack, also became friends with the two peers.

Anglu and Bell were nominally guards, but in reality, they had little to do. Pierre, as the only son of the estate owner and mayor, was also idle and aimless most of the time.

These three little Dussacks together weren't just three times as many troublemakers—they were three times as many. Whenever Winters left the town hall, the three lads would follow him and disappear. Old Reed pretended not to see them; he was more than happy to have a little more time to nap.

Fortunately, all three of them both respected and feared Winters, so Winters was still able to keep them in check.

Back at the town hall, Pierre was caught off guard when Father Reid called him by name.

The old monk didn't waste any words. He quickly wrote a few sentences on a piece of paper and handed it to Pierre: "Boy, read this aloud."

Pierre took the note and stared blankly at Father Reid.

"Read it!" The old monk pulled out a rattan stick from somewhere and gave Little Cher a whack.

Pierre was startled and stammered, “Clumsy, stupid Golden Peaks. Fuck. Sheep. Man… is the best description of my friends… Anglu and Bell.”

Anglu and Bell were trying hard to suppress their laughter when they heard the beginning, but they were stunned when they heard the end.

Brother Reid yawned and said casually to the other two young Dusaks, "Do you two understand? You can't even read, you can't even understand the insults people are saying to you."

After that, Reed asked several questions involving mixed arithmetic operations. Each time, he would ask the other two little Dussacs first, and while they were still counting on their fingers, Reed would then ask Pierre.

Pierre was able to give an answer soon, but his voice grew softer and softer, while the other two young Dussacs became increasingly ashamed and silent.

Brother Reid yawned again and asked casually, "You're all about the same age. Pierre can already write and do arithmetic. What about you two?"

Young stable boy Anglou lowered his head, while young hunter Bell clenched his fists and stared at Father Reid. Pierre, at a loss, looked to Winters for help.

"Alright, I won't make things difficult for you." Brother Reed sighed, then scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it to the two young Dussacs: "You two, just copy the words I wrote down exactly, and you won't have to attend class anymore. You can't even do that, can you?"

Bell was the first to grab the paper and pen, and started working on the table.

The little hunter wasn't writing; he was copying. He imitated every curve with utmost care, but it was still crooked and uneven, like a toddler just learning to write. After he finished, he handed the quill to Anglu.

Anglu looked pitifully at Winters, who nodded expressionlessly.

So the young horse herder also lay down on the table and copied it. However, because he pressed too hard, the quill tip broke.

"No rush, take your time writing, and try to write as well as you can." The old monk handed Anglu a new quill pen.

In the end, Anglu also completed his "copy," and his handwriting was even more appalling than Bell's.

Brother Reid took the note back, read it carefully, and then asked with a sneer, "Are you all fools? You just write whatever you're told to write? Do you even know what this is?"

The two young Dussacs stood there, stunned.

The old monk unfolded the paper—he handed out a folded sheet, with other contents hidden from Bell and Anglu's view.

Reid shook the paper in his hand: "This is a 'slave contract,' and you just signed it. From now on, you are no longer free men, but slaves belonging to me. I can buy, sell, and kill you at will."

The two young Dussacs were dumbfounded.

"You think I'm bluffing?" the old monk sneered. "Don't believe me? Let the lieutenant and Little Cher see for themselves."

As he spoke, he handed the contract to Winters.

After reading it carefully, Winters said, "This is indeed a standard contract for the sale of personal rights. Plato does not allow the use of slaves, but he allows the slave trade. Brother Reid now has the right to sell you elsewhere. However, this contract is not valid in Venetia because Venetia does not allow any form of slavery. You will be free once you escape to Venetia."

Pierre took the paper, read it, and confirmed Winters's words.

"You tricked us into signing!" Bell roared angrily.

"Who can prove it?" the mendicant monk scoffed. "You yourselves signed this contract in black and white. You can only blame yourselves for being illiterate, signing anything and everything, and not even knowing you've been sold into slavery. You disagree? Here! Pierre, you write it down exactly as I wrote it."

After saying that, Father Rhett put the contract into Pierre's hand.

Pierre stood there dumbfounded, not writing a word.

“Look! Mr. Little Cher recognizes what this is, and he knows not to sign it.” The old monk mocked, “But what about you two? You don’t know anything. You just sign it when I tell you to. You haven’t learned Dussac’s shrewdness, but you’ve inherited all his recklessness.”

Anglu was filled with shame, while Bell's eyes were blazing with anger.

Brother Reid didn't waste any more words. He tore the contract in half and stuffed each half into the hands of the two little Dussacs.

"Take it," the old monk said dismissively. "If you don't want to be sold into slavery for no reason in the future, go and learn all the words on this with Mr. Littlecher. If he doesn't teach you, then he's trying to cheat you. Now get out."

Bell was the first to turn and walk out of the room, followed by Anglu, and Pierre bowed and hurriedly chased after him.

After the three young Dussacs left the town hall, Winters couldn't help but ask, "Is it really necessary to make such a fuss with a few children?"

"Sixteen is not young. If they weren't Dusak, they might already be married." The old monk yawned. "And these lads might hate me for the rest of their lives, but they won't learn a thing or two from my teachings."

“If you dump all the teaching work on Pierre, aren’t you just collecting a salary for nothing?” Winters suddenly grasped the key point.

Brother Reed laughed heartily: "Teaching people to read is worthless; knowing how to teach people to read is what earns you a salary."

While the lieutenant and the monk were chatting in the town hall, a new wooden house was rising up across the road.

Whole logs are being transported from the logging camp by trucks, and carpenters, bricklayers, and laborers are working hard. One of the walls has already been built.

This is the town's biggest event these days, a crucial piece of the puzzle for the prosperous and thriving Wolftown that Gerald Mitchell has been hoping for.

This wooden building, which is expected to be even larger than the town hall, will be the future Langtun Town Police Station, and will have multiple functions, including offices for resident officers, armories, prisons, and guards' quarters.

Whether Winters wanted it or not, and regardless of whether the impact was good or bad, he ultimately left his mark on this land.

Thank you to all the readers who have consistently voted for this book.
Thank you to the following readers for their recommendation votes: Whitehorns, Ami, Yellow Rabbit from the Flower Country, Calm Gray, Moonlit Edge, behere370, Kamen Rider Fan, Reader 20191007064305842, Jiang Xue Diao Weng, Tian Jingtou, Wu Jiu Shi Xiao Gao, and Calm Gray. Thank you all.

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(End of this chapter)