It's already sad enough to be sold into a black factory to screw bolts in reality; it's even sadder to have to screw bolts in a factory in your dreams.
"Theresa, what happened to your face?"
Back in the makeshift tin shack he was temporarily staying in, Xing Chen saw Theresa sewing a torn piece of cloth. Getting closer, he noticed several red marks on her face.
"Oh, this? I just went out to deliver a repaired coat to someone and happened to see some Tara people being harassed by Victoria military police. I spoke up for those Tara people, and these military police officers just laid hands on me."
Theresa, like him, was immortal, but seeing her like this, Xing Chen felt a pang of distress.
Theresa took it in stride; discrimination against Sarkaz was a common occurrence, and she hadn't taken the beating for nothing—at least she had successfully gotten closer to the Tara people.
"At least they're willing to let me mend their clothes now, aren't they?"
"Then you should still be careful. Do you want me to get some medicine from the factory for you?"
The factory had no infirmary or doctor, only a simple first-aid kit. Xing Chen didn't understand Terra's pharmacology, but he could at least follow the instructions to get some painkillers.
"Let's save the medicine for those who need it. Mine will be gone once I wake up."
...Working in the real world was a very painful thing, but working in another world was different.
At least before the novelty of screwing bolts with his Feline colleague wore off, Xing Chen was still very willing to go to the factory.
Moreover, he was now tireless, unfed, and unwearied, practically a chosen laborer.
But his Tara colleagues were not like that; even veteran employees who had worked for several years would still get sleepy around one or two in the morning.
"Xing Chen, can you watch my machine for a bit? I'm going to rest under the table for a while." Helen patted Xing Chen's shoulder. This friendly Feline had taken good care of Xing Chen, helping him familiarize himself with the factory very quickly.
"Okay, I'll call you in an hour." Xing Chen packed the last batch of stamped sheet metal parts and glanced at the dim office.
The supervisors would never stay up all night, exhausted, like the low-level workers.
"Thanks."
Soon, the moving figures in the factory gradually decreased. If one's hearing was keen enough, they could detect hidden snores amidst the roaring machinery.
Taking advantage of the sparse crowd, Xing Chen secretly inspected the factory's products, looking for any usable components.
"Why is it all Originium Arts circuits..."
Just as Xing Chen decided to get himself an introductory guide to Originium technology, screams suddenly erupted from the production area not far away.
"What happened?!" Helen's ears were very sharp; she immediately emerged from her hiding spot.
"Someone must be injured," Xing Chen put down the work at hand. He glanced at the dimly lit room where the supervisors rested on the second floor. "You go wake up those with bad hearing, and I'll go see what's going on."
When he arrived at the injured worker's side, a crowd had already gathered around him.
Xing Chen glanced at the nearby roll of exotic iron; it was probably an arm cut by the edge due to improper operation.
More and more workers gathered, but the factory had not taught them how to handle such a large wound.
"I brought the first-aid kit. The situation... My goodness, how did you get such a large cut?"
The huge wound was estimated to be about ten centimeters. The injured worker was frantically trying to stop the bleeding with paper and cloth.
Xing Chen's scalp tingled. Victoria merchants would not be kind enough to equip Tara's sweatshops with precious medical casters.
Given the physique of Terra people, they generally didn't get injured easily, but once they did, it was usually a serious injury.
"Do you have a tourniquet?"
Helen rummaged through the first-aid kit, then shook her head.
"Damn it!" Left with no choice, Xing Chen tore a strip of cloth from his pant leg and tightly wrapped it around the proximal end.
Compared to bleeding to death, the cost of an arm seemed acceptable.
If only Theresa were here, her Originium Arts would be especially suitable for a situation like this.
"Give me the stapler," Xing Chen recalled movies he had watched before, which contained many unreliable methods of stopping bleeding. He decided to try one.
Helen handed the stapler to Xing Chen. Xing Chen forcibly closed the everted wound and stapled it several times.
"Alright," Xing Chen wiped his bloody hands on his sweat. "Quickly take him to the town hospital."
Several people familiar with the injured worker received the order and immediately took him outside.
"What about us?" Helen asked Xing Chen. His calm and decisive actions in the crisis had successfully established his authority among these workers.
"Let's continue working for now and see how the factory handles it."
Then Xing Chen reallocated the missing positions, and everyone went back to their respective tasks.
The next day, the results of the accident investigation were released. As expected, the factory pushed all responsibility onto the worker. Under the guise of improper operation, they refused to pay any compensation.
The workers were angry but helpless. This wasn't the first time such a thing had happened. He was relatively lucky; thanks to Xing Chen's emergency treatment, at least he saved his arm.
After work that day, the usual cheerful atmosphere in the bar was gone.
"Speaking of which, how many such things have the Victoria people done over the years?"
After a beer, Xing Chen posed this question, hoping to start a lamentation session.
The subsequent development was as he expected; the initial outpouring of grievances gradually turned into anger towards Victoria. Many even suggested that they should unite with the Sarkaz to give Victoria a taste of their own medicine.
"If that's what you say, why haven't you resisted all these years?"
"How do we resist? We don't have military-grade Originium Arts casting units," Helen said, taking a big gulp of wine and turning to Xing Chen, "Sarkaz can turn themselves into casting units, but we can't. And not far out of town, there's a company of Victoria regular army. As soon as something happens here, they can arrive within a day."
"Then have you heard of Deepsea?"
"No, what is that?"
"It's an organization dedicated to overthrowing Victoria's rule and achieving Tara's independence. I have a slight connection with that organization."
"Oh?"
Xing Chen's words attracted the attention of many. He wasn't sure if there were any scabs or Victoria informants in the pub, so he pretended to be drunk and ended the discussion.
Helen carried Xing Chen on her back and took him back to his lodging. On the way, passing through an uninhabited area (Theresa had confirmed it beforehand), he quietly told the Feline beneath him, "If you're interested in what I said, find a few people you trust, and we'll talk about it during our night shift."