Chapter 54:
Yunkai, the audience hall at the top of the Great Pyramid.
This place had once been the most sacred and luxurious location in Yunkai. The floor was paved with black jade from Asshai, and the walls were inlaid with golden harpy reliefs.
The massive harpy statue had already been decapitated. Its golden bird head had rolled down the steps and was now being crushed under a pair of muddy military boots.
Victor Pompey sat on the ivory throne that had once belonged to the "Wise Masters," casually playing with an empty shell casing from a Maxim machine gun.
Daenerys Targaryen stood beside him. Drogon's massive head stretched in from the balcony, staring with molten eyes at the group of people kneeling in the center of the hall.
Dozens of extravagantly dressed, obese "Wise Masters" and "Good Masters" were now trembling like quails. They had once been the masters of this city — the gods of hundreds of thousands of slaves.
Now, they were prisoners.
"Lord Pompey! Queen Regent!"
The leading chief Wise Master of Yunkai — the fat man who had once boasted about making Daenerys his foot-washing slave — was desperately kowtowing on the floor, his forehead already bleeding.
"It's a misunderstanding! All a misunderstanding!"
The fat Wise Master pointed at the mountain of treasure chests behind him.
"We are willing to surrender! We are willing to compensate! This is half of the wealth Yunkai has accumulated over five hundred years! Gold, gems, silk… as long as you withdraw your army, as long as you allow us to keep a tiny bit… of our small tradition…"
"Tradition?"
Victor raised an eyebrow. "You mean slavery?"
"Yes, yes!" the fat Wise Master wiped his sweat and smiled obsequiously. "You see, without slaves, who will farm the land? Who will mine? Who will serve the lords? Those lowborn were born for this — they cannot live without masters!"
"As long as you agree, Yunkai will pay tribute to you every year! The most beautiful slaves we capture will be sent to you first!"
A flash of killing intent appeared in Daenerys's eyes. Her hand rested on the hilt of her sword.
"Victor, let me burn them. Their souls are already rotten."
"Not yet, Daenerys."
Victor raised his hand and stopped the queen.
He stood up, walked in front of the fat Wise Master, and lifted his chin with the tip of his boot.
"What is your name?"
"Gr… Grazdan," the fat man stammered.
"Grazdan, you have misunderstood one thing."
Victor looked down at him with cold, indifferent eyes.
"I don't want your gold. Because if I kill you, the gold will still be mine."
"I don't want your slaves either. Because in this industrial age, slavery is the most inefficient and stupid mode of production."
Victor turned around and faced everyone in the hall. His voice echoed through the chamber.
"Slaves have no wages, so they cannot buy my goods."
"Slaves have no hope, so they will not voluntarily learn to operate machines."
"What I want are workers and consumers — not a bunch of walking corpses who only know how to crack whips and be whipped."
"So…"
Victor snapped his fingers.
Several fully armed Pompey soldiers walked in. What they carried in their hands were not torture instruments, but bundles of heavy iron picks and work uniforms.
"Grazdan, and all the other Wise Masters present."
Victor revealed a devilish smile.
"You said no one can work without slaves, right?"
"Congratulations. You have all been hired."
"Wh… what?" The fat Wise Master was stunned.
"From today onward, all your property, titles, and silk clothes are confiscated."
Victor coldly announced the verdict:
"You are now part of the Yunkai Railway Construction Corps — First Assault Team."
"Your mission is to build the coastal railway from Yunkai to Astapor. You will work twelve hours a day, with meals and lodging provided (black bread and cold water)."
"No! I am a noble! I am a Wise Master! I cannot do such lowly work!"
The fat Wise Master screamed in collapse. "Kill me! A gentleman can be killed but not humiliated!"
"You want to die?"
Victor drew his revolver, but the gun was not pointed at the Wise Master — it was pointed at the ceiling.
Bang!
The gunshot scared several Wise Masters into wetting their pants on the spot.
"Death is too easy. Once you're dead, it's all over."
Victor holstered the gun.
"Live, and experience the 'tradition' you once imposed on others."
"If you perform well, perhaps in three years you may earn your freedom… to become a street sweeper."
"Take them away!"
A group of Unsullied — who had once been slaves themselves — rushed forward. They roughly stripped the Wise Masters of their silk clothes and put coarse sackcloth on them, locking heavy iron shackles around their ankles — the same shackles they had once put on their own slaves.
The masters who had been high and mighty just minutes ago were now dragged away like pigs and dogs, each handed a rusty iron pick.
Outside the hall, the earth-shaking cheers of hundreds of thousands of freed slaves in Yunkai rang out.
"Mhysa! Victor!"
Daenerys watched the scene — watching the once-arrogant Wise Masters now sobbing and wailing.
She suddenly felt that this was ten thousand times more satisfying than simply burning them with dragonfire.
"You truly are a devil, Victor."
Daenerys's lips curved into a smile. "But I like this kind of punishment."
"This is called labor reform."
Victor sat back on the throne and looked out the window at the rising Pompey banner.
"In this new world, those who do not labor shall not eat."
…
The next morning.
Outside Yunkai, at the railway construction site.
The former chief Wise Master Grazdan was sweating under the blazing sun, struggling to swing his iron pick and break hard rock. His palms were already blistered and bloody. His once-fat body was rapidly wasting away under this high-intensity labor.
Behind him, a former slave foreman — whom he had once whipped — now coldly watched him with the very whip that had once been his.
"Faster! Number 001!"
The foreman cracked the whip across his backside. "If you don't meet today's quota, no dinner!"
Grazdan screamed in pain, not daring to resist. He could only continue digging with tears in his eyes.
He finally understood.
Hell was not a sea of fire.
Hell was… building railways.
…
At the same time, across the sea.
Braavos, beneath the Titan of Braavos.
The Master of the Iron Bank looked at the latest battle report from Yunkai. The gold coin in his hand dropped onto the table.
"Slavery… is finished."
"That Victor Pompey really intends to flip the table of the old world."
"Master of the Bank."
A senior bank executive asked anxiously, "Our supported alliance has lost. All our investments are gone! Now Pompey's army is just across the sea. If he attacks…"
The Master of the Bank took a deep breath. A look of determination flashed in his eyes.
As a proper capitalist, he knew when to cut losses and when to jump ship.
"Prepare my ship."
The Master of the Bank stood up.
"Bring the highest-level confidential documents — the blueprints for the control core of the Titan of Braavos."
"I am going to Yunkai."
"Since we cannot defeat him… then we shall join him."
Early access to upcoming chapters is available on Patreon.
Support the translator and binge ahead! patreon.com/arthursink Means a lot – thank you! ✍️