'Good grief,' Levi thought, utterly speechless. 'And here I was hoping you could help deal with the Iron Fist Gang. Turns out, behind the scenes, you're one of their biggest clients?'
"Dad!" Seraphine looked at her father in disbelief.
The perfect image of her kind and benevolent father seemed on the verge of collapsing in her mind.
"Ahem... I have no choice in this," Ivern defended himself, his face flushing red. "Seraphine, you don't understand..."
"The contract labor business is divided by gang territories. The district our factory is in falls under the Iron Fist Gang's control."
"Everyone rents contract laborers from the Iron Fist Gang. Even if you don't want to rent from them, you can't find anyone else."
"But..." Seraphine bit her lip, conflicted. "Dad, can't you just not rent contract laborers? They're so pitiful... Are you really going to join those gangs in exploiting them like this?"
"How... how can you say this is my fault?" Ivern said, feeling a bit guilty. "They're already slaves. Even if I don't rent them, won't they just have to go work at another factory?"
"Besides, everyone is using contract laborers now. If I don't use them, relying solely on the limited quota of formal apprentices won't bring the labor costs down. Our products would be more expensive than our competitors'. How could I keep the factory running?"
"Nini, I really have no choice. I have to keep the factory alive so I can make money to treat your 'illness' and give you the best life..."
Ivern mumbled a whole slew of excuses.
But seeing his daughter's blinking, innocent eyes, he found himself at a loss for words and could only lower his head in shame.
"Alright, Mr. Ivern, I understand the situation." Levi sighed understandingly, steering the conversation back on track. "Since our opponent is the Iron Fist Gang, then we will..."
"...have the Windguides step forward to hold the funds and temporarily save the wages for the contract laborers."
"Huh?" Ivern did not understand.
'We already analyzed this earlier. This isn't a long-term solution,' Ivern thought to himself. 'Without solving the issue of their personal freedom, temporarily saving their wages is equivalent to never paying them at all.'
'The contract laborers know this themselves. If we do this, over time, they'll actually start to resent us.'
"Having grievances is a good thing. When waging a struggle, we aren't afraid of the masses having grievances; we're afraid of them being too numb and not getting angry," Levi said.
"The key lies in guidance. We have to tell them where to direct this anger."
"Will that work?" Ivern asked. "The Iron Fist Gang isn't to be trifled with. Even if they are angry, they wouldn't dare vent it on the Iron Fist Gang. They'll only dare to take it out on you."
Although it was the Iron Fist Gang persecuting the contract laborers and the Windguides bestowing favors upon them.
But Ivern understood human nature. He knew that if things developed this way, the contract laborers' resentment would ultimately be directed at the Windguides.
'A small favor breeds gratitude, but a prolonged one breeds resentment.'
"That is exactly why they need our guidance," Levi explained.
"They don't dare vent their anger on the Iron Fist Gang not because they lack a conscience or a backbone, but because they lack fists."
"Since that's the case, we will find a way to arm the workers—give them fists and help them find their backbone!"
Levi's words startled Ivern.
"You want to arm them? But I spoke with Professor Viktor, and he said you only planned to spread propaganda among the formal apprentices. He never mentioned mobilizing them for a struggle..."
"I still don't plan on having them charge into the front lines to fight battles they are destined to lose."
"But victory must be fought for with one's own hands to truly be considered a victory."
If one could simply sit at home watching television and see the bad guys disappear, witnessing the victory of a struggle from the couch, then the fruits of that victory would inevitably have little to do with those mere spectators.
"Therefore, for those battles where victory is attainable, they can still fight, and it is necessary for them to do so."
Through self-reflection, Levi realized that even if gods and saviors existed in this world, he could not treat himself too much like a savior.
Mortals could bleed less or not bleed at all under Janna's protection, but they absolutely could not fight less or avoid fighting altogether.
Otherwise, he would only end up educating a flock of divine subjects, rather than true comrades.
"Laying low and building our strength right now is certainly safe."
"But being too safe, having no enemies, and lacking a sense of urgency will actually cause everyone to overlook the cruelty of the struggle. They won't be able to truly stay vigilant and unite."
Any group needs a concrete enemy.
The imminent threat of an enemy is the best education in class consciousness.
"So..." Ivern pondered. "You plan to make the Iron Fist Gang this enemy?"
"Yes."
"But the Iron Fist Gang isn't that easy to deal with."
"Don't worry. With Janna here, we can beat them."
"That's not what I'm worried about." Ivern voiced his doubts with concern. "You have to understand, the Iron Fist Gang has backing! And even if they didn't, mobilizing such a massive group of apprentices to make enemies of them..."
"Don't you think it will cause too much of a commotion?"
The Piltover Council could tolerate Zaunite gangs with backing, but they would absolutely never tolerate an uncontrolled armed force of Zaunites.
Not to mention, this would be a force belonging to the workers—something that had never before appeared in Runeterra.
If this matter blew up, then...
Ivern could already imagine the terrifying scene of Piltover Enforcers coming to raid his factory.
"Don't worry! You said it yourself: the Iron Fist Gang is a Zaunite gang, yet Piltover tolerates their existence."
"Why? Because they have backing and are under control. Furthermore, gangs inherently can't achieve anything great, so the Piltovans aren't afraid of them at all."
"Therefore—Mr. Ivern, we can absolutely just form a 'gang' of our own!"
"Huh?" Ivern was jolted by the idea. "You mean using the name of a gang as cover to build up a force belonging to your Windguides?"
"Yes," Levi answered affirmatively.
The Windguides would need an armed force sooner or later. Even ignoring the need to train the team and educate the masses, it was impossible for him and Janna to help fight every single battle in the future.
By using the formal apprentices as the backbone and the Iron Fist Gang as the enemy, they could build up their forces under the guise of a gang and expand the Windguides' power as early as possible.
"But that won't work at all!"
"To run a gang in Piltover, you must have backing."
"The Iron Fist Gang has backing, but do you? Even if you do, could your backing possibly be bigger than the Iron Fist Gang's?"
"Yes," Levi replied. "There is someone who might be able to become our backer."
"Who?" Ivern asked in astonishment. "Who has that kind of capability to completely disregard the Iron Fist Gang's backing?"
"Caitlyn Kiramman."
Levi thought of this noble young lady who looked mature and sharp, but was actually even more naive than Seraphine.
She actually believed her councilor mother's external propaganda, believing that Piltover was a civilized society governed by the rule of law, and that the law could fairly resolve all problems.
But reality would always ruthlessly slap idealists in the face, forcing them to wake up.
And some people, upon waking up, would just give up entirely.
Others would become even more determined to approach their ideals.
Caitlyn was the latter.
"Once she hits a brick wall in her fantasy 'society of law' and knocks herself awake... she will probably be very willing to use our power to carry out 'extrajudicial enforcement' against the Iron Fist Gang."
Levi predicted this with considerable confidence.
But Mr. Ivern merely asked in shock, "Caitlyn Kiramman? That Kiramman?"
"Yes, the Kiramman from the Piltover Council. I know her fairly well and am confident I can persuade her to stand on our side."
"This..." Ivern remained silent for a long time.
It was as if he was too shocked to speak.
Then, he was heard asking, "How old is this Caitlyn?"
"???" Levi was baffled.
"Nineteen or twenty, I suppose. I'm not entirely sure."
"Screw that!" The old father suddenly jumped up. "Pretend I never said anything earlier—"
"You stay the hell away from my daughter!"
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