--Riverdale City, The Empire Of Arcadina--
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"You lazy good-for-nothing!... get back to work!" Yelled an arrogant supervisor as he observed the workers on the fields.
He picked up a stone and shot it at the back of a 35 year old man who only wanted to rest for a few minutes.
They as workers, worked for 10 whole hours with only 15 minutes of break time... so of course he was tired.
His bones felt broken, and his body felt weak and fragile.
There was a certain level of tiredness, that equated to death.
He felt like he would collapse anytime, as he could feel his heart rate speed up.
His headaches, and his brain tingled.
He could only sigh at his own misfortune.
Who asked him to be born poor?
He immediately sucked up all the pain that he felt, and got back to work.
He had his wife and children to feed... so this so call headache could wait.
The fields were about 1/3 the size of industrial tea or banana plantations..... with over a thousand workers on those fields daily.
And with so many people there, it was only right for numerous supervisors to patrol and inspect the workers regularly.
Presently... Major General Mark and his comrades were busy tilling the soil by the gates, when they saw 12 hooded men walking into the city.
"Tristan, Gian, Rwanpo.... follow them." Mark ordered in a whispery tone as he continued to till the fields.
Tristan who was working on a farm bed beside Mark, immediately nodded and secretly took a look at the supervisor.
The guy was currently busy scolding another worker, hence he wasn"t paying attention to any of them.
Tristan did several hand signals, and another comrade beside him threw out a chalk stick towards him.
Since the chalk stick looked like ordinary clay or stone, no one would be suspicious of them even if they caught them.... hence they had decided that it was okay to bring this item with them.
Plus it was sort of perfect for disguises and appearances as well.
Tristan hurriedly stroke the chalk stick on his palms, and evenly rubbed it all over his face.
Of course he didn"t put too much, as it would look fake.
What he was aiming for, was to make his face look pale and sickly.
He had also added traces of dirt on his face, so as to show that he had worked hard all day long.
Be then washed his hands with some of the water from his jug, and then proceeded to crush a tomatoe with his hands.
From there, he mixed the crushed tomatoe with water, and cleaned up his surroundings.
"Swis.h.!.+ Swis.h.!.+ Swish"
He placed the tomatoe mixture into his mouth and swished it vigorously.
And after that, he his show.
They were at work and they had supervisors here, so the only way to escape.... would be to show them that they were almost dying from sickness.
He then signaled for his men to start the show, and immediately dropped to the ground.
"Tristan!.... Tristan!... what"s wrong with you?" Yelled out Rwanpo emotionally.
"Don"t leave us bro!!....." Gian yelled.
Instantly, everyone around the area... including the supervisor.
What was happening over there?
"Bluh!!!"
Tristan had "vomited" the tomatoe mixture dramatically.
"Was that blood?"
"Oh my heavens.... just look at his pale face."
"It"s so white.... do you think he"ll die soon?"
"Yup!... hes dead for sure."
"I knew it!!... the land is cursed."
"I believe you too.... can"t you see that the dead warrior"s evil magic is calling him on?"
"___"
The supervisor on the other hand, didn"t go any closer to Tristan... as he felt that it was below his status to do so.
Sure, he was a peasant.... but there were levels to every societal cla.s.s.
He was a high cla.s.s peasant who had worked his way to the top, and well even friends with middle cla.s.s people like merchants and healers.
He had attended middle cla.s.s parties, and was even considered super wealthy to most of the low and medium cla.s.s peasants.
Right now, these workers on the fields were locals peasants.... so how could he lower his status by going over there?
He held out a bluish handkerchief closer to his nose, and pretended that it was smelly.
Well.... it wasn"t more like he was pretending.
His mind had always a.s.sociated these low cla.s.s peasants as smelly and dirty... so of course his mind had also come to the conclusion that their puke was also foul.
How could these people who eat garbage, puke anything that smelled remotely okay?
I"m fact, he was sure that he could get the stench all the way from where he was standing.... but little did he know yaht it was all in his head.
For heaven"s sake, it was just crushed tomatoes okay?
"Ugh.... disgusting!", he thought.
"Supervisor Mogly.... If we don"t take him away right now, he"ll die here!" Gian said at he pretended to be anxious.
When Mogly heard them, he froze for a moment.
Having people die on the fields was definitely unacceptable.
These people were too superst.i.tious.
If anyone ever died on the fields itself, then the workers would think that the fields are cursed.
In fact if a worker died on the roads along the farms, no one would have any qualms about it.
But if they died on the farms itself, no one would come to work again.
One had to know that these farmlands were once a large cemetery.... and it took over 7 years of convincing from City Lord Shannon"s father, before the matter was dropped.
But even at that, from generation to generation... ghost folk stories had always been told about the land being cursed.
It was believed that an evil soldier was accidentally buried here, which led in the land becoming cursed.
It was believed that because the man"s wife came from Riverdale city, he had decided not to curse the entire land... just the cemetery wer he was buried in.
The people had myths for everything.
And to make matters worse, some 5 years ago, 4 elderly men died on the fields..... making the men frightened.
It was believed that their souls were yanked out and eaten by the evil enemy buried within the fields.
Of course the people refused to work again.... but when City Lord Shannon threatened to kill their families.... they of course had no other choice but to do their jobs fearfully.
Now that city lord Shannon dead, Supervisor Mogly couldn"t afford to let another person die on the fields again.
Sure, Marder was now the new city lord.... but who knew if the brat had the same zeal as his father?
In Mogly"s opinion, Marder felt short when he compared him to Shannon.... and he wasn"t sure that the boy could control the people.
If someone did die, the people would definitely strike, and his paycheck would also be halved.
No!!.... he must never let that happen.
"You and you... ...Quickly, carry him out of here.
Don"t worry about your jobs..... just get him out now!"
"Graohhh!" Tristan moaned as he was lifted and carried away by Rwanpo and Gian.
They had to find those hooded men fast.