Ch.173Penal Labor (1)

“Ugh…”

“Damn it, what is this all about? Seriously.”

The prisoners of Rotaring don’t fully understand the situation they’re currently in.

While “prisoner” refers to someone who has committed a crime, it could also mean a laborer—no, a slave—who can be used however one pleases.

Fundamentally, there’s no need to show consideration for those who have broken the law, especially since punishment inherently includes labor. Of course, the level of treatment varies depending on the severity of the offense.

In any case, using criminals for various labor tasks is perfectly natural and common sense. Strangely enough, the prisoners of Rotaring are not currently being deployed for such labor.

“So we’re just supposed to stay put like this? Is this the punishment? What about the farming we were doing?”

“I heard some madmen took pitchforks and split open a supervisor’s head, so they stopped everything.”

“Well, even if it were mining instead… that wouldn’t be different since we’d have pickaxes. I guess anything involving dangerous tools would be the same.”

The prisoners are confused, unable to grasp the flow of events.

They understand that an accident occurred during labor because a few people caused trouble. But to stop all labor for that reason?

Hasn’t that sort of thing happened countless times before?

Of course, from the prisoners’ perspective, not having to work is nice, but from the ruler’s standpoint, what does it matter if a few people die?

Stopping prisoner labor will severely impact the various industries that have been using them. All this just because a few people died?

“I don’t understand it.”

“Indeed.”

The king executes people with pig slaughtering tools, treats nobles harshly, and kills enemies by any means necessary—behaving like a monster in human form. Yet in other aspects, he’s like a sage king, making the criteria for capital punishment extremely strict or eliminating various taxes to reduce the burden on his people.

It’s impossible to understand whether he’s merciful or cruel.

Well, whatever.

“Yaaawn… I’ll just keep sleeping.”

“Me too.”

Nothing could be better than eating without having to work.

Even when they did go out for labor, they never truly worked hard, so it was never difficult. Still, not having to go outside at all is quite nice.

……….

“Labor resumes today!”

“Well, the good days are over.”

A few weeks later, the labor that had been suspended suddenly resumed.

When they suddenly called for assembly, I wondered what was happening… ugh, I don’t like this.

Didn’t they say they stopped it because of the risk of people dying?

*Swish*

“Speak.”

“Is there no longer a possibility of accidents?”

“That’s right.”

Tsk.

I asked just in case, and they say there’s no risk of people dying?

Ah… I wanted to rest a bit more. That’s unfortunate.

‘So what kind of labor will it be?’

Since they say there’s no risk of death, it probably won’t involve tools like farming or mining.

Transportation, perhaps? Hmm, that’s a possibility.

I heard the warehouse in Baron Verden’s territory is always short on people, so they’ve started using prisoners for work. They even built a prison nearby to make it easier to use prisoners, didn’t they?

Or it could be manually moving heavy construction materials like stones or wood at construction sites. Simple labor is always in demand at construction sites.

“Follow me.”

“Yes, sir.”

‘Neither, it seems.’

Looking at the guard’s movements, I can tell all my predictions are wrong.

The guard is walking in the opposite direction of the exit, which means the labor he mentioned can be done inside this place.

What could it be? Was there ever labor that could be done inside?

‘Handicrafts… probably not. The tools used in handicrafts are too sharp.’

Even knitting, a representative handicraft, requires needles and knives. They wouldn’t give such sharp objects to criminals.

The more I think about it, the more I can’t figure out what they’ll make us do. Should I just ask what we’re going to do?

“We’re here. Line up and enter in order.”

‘Already? That was quick.’

Well, we’re not going to farms or mines, and we’re staying inside the prison, so it makes sense that it’s quick.

Let’s see… what kind of labor could this be—

“…What is this?”

Under the guards’ intense surveillance, we passed through a massive door into a room that contained something I’d never seen before.

If I had to describe it, it resembles a long waterwheel on both sides, but beyond that, it’s a completely unfamiliar object. I can’t even begin to guess what it’s used for.

I’m not the only one with this impression. Other prisoners around me are also bewildered, and some are silently looking at the guards, demanding an explanation.

“Your job is simple. Every two days, ten of you at a time will step on the pedals attached to that cylinder for six hours, as if climbing stairs, to turn the waterwheel. Operating hours are from 8 AM to 8 PM, and the order is determined by name, not by the guards.”

“…That’s the labor?”

“Yes. Though it looks strange, it’s basically a waterwheel. Think of it as a waterwheel powered by human strength instead of water.”

A waterwheel powered by human strength…

Indeed, since no tools are used, the possibility of accidents like before is minimal.

But it feels a bit degrading.

Making us work using only our lower bodies instead of tools and hands—it’s like treating us like horses pulling carts or oxen pulling plows. I’m a human being.

‘Well, at least it’s fortunate.’

This job seems to have a very low labor intensity.

The labor we’ve done until now involved plowing fields with plows, breaking rocks with pickaxes, or scooping waste at processing plants—all extremely difficult or terrible jobs. Thinking about those while looking at this waterwheel, I can’t help but laugh.

Just walking up stairs for six hours—it’s an incredibly easy job, isn’t it?

Wow, our Majesty is truly merciful.

………

*Rumble*

“Huff… huff…”

Damn it… damn it!

How much time has passed?

I can’t tell. I don’t know.

Except for the back where the guards are watching, the front, sides, and top are covered with partitions, causing me to lose my sense of time.

If I could see the sun, I could tell the passage of time by the angle of the shadows… ugh.

*Tremble*

“Argh!!”

“Hey, keep walking! If you stop moving your legs, they’ll get caught in the steps and you’ll get hurt!”

My calf muscles, reaching their limit, tremble violently and scream in pain, but I can’t stop walking.

I’m not the only one turning this waterwheel.

Besides me, nine others are simultaneously turning it, and if I stop walking on top of it, my ankle will get caught in the wheel and I’ll fall backward.

I have to keep walking at a steady pace in a state where I can’t see anything. No matter how hard it is.

*Rumble*

“Urgh…!”

The prisoner grips the handle in front tightly with all his might, using it like a crutch to support himself.

By applying force with his arms to lift his body slightly, he reduces the load on his legs.

Given the physical structure with the handle in front, this puts tremendous strain on the arms, but the prisoner has no time to worry about such things.

The pain in his legs is a bigger issue than the strain on his arms.

‘If only I could have a conversation…’

If I could chat with other prisoners, this hardship might be a little easier to bear. There’s a reason work songs exist.

But the strict control of the guards and the partitions on both sides prevent any interaction with other prisoners.

The prisoners must continue climbing stairs at a constant speed for six hours in a solitary cell where they can see nothing, listening only to the chilling sound of the wooden wheel turning.

‘I’d rather… dig the ground…’

……….

“…Wow.”

The effect is too good?

The troublemaking prisoners have all become docile after being put on the waterwheel treadmill, and guards everywhere are giving it rave reviews.

Above all, traditional labor always required moving to different locations or using tools, which increased the probability of unexpected accidents. This waterwheel treadmill, however, is inside the prison and requires no tools, eliminating such risks entirely.

Moreover, the rotational power generated by stepping on the treadmill can be used to grind grain, so the prisoners’ physical energy isn’t being wasted meaninglessly.

University professors, upon hearing this news, argued that this rotational power could be used not just for grinding grain but in other ways too—improving factory production lines, pumping cold water out of mines, and so on. They even begged for research budgets to be allocated or for these devices to be expanded to other places.

“…Hmm.”

But in my memory, this was definitely classified as a torture device.

Repeating the same movement at a constant speed for six hours would be considered torture even if it were an action other than climbing stairs.

‘Well… I guess it can’t be helped.’

Without this, there’s no effective way to control the prisoners, so it’s better to use it for now.

Of course, having both minor and major offenders undergo the same labor violates fairness, so I should issue a separate decree to keep minor offenders off the waterwheel. After all, minor offenders are less likely to cause accidents even if given tools, so they can be assigned different labor.

Also, even with two-day intervals, using the treadmill for six hours at a time is torture, not labor, so the operating time should be changed more flexibly. Perhaps three hours a day, every day, would be better?