[We’ve been re-editing/ re-translating the chapters. Not sure how long it will take to catch up (we’ve done 30+ already), however, the newest releases (Chapter 144+) are already from the new team.]
To reprint! (3)
The printing and bookbinding companies were crowded on the eastern side of the Tempus river on arc street. Kleio, disembarking the wagon first, stood by the door to help Dione off. The alley was narrow and the ground uneven, so he had to focus all his attention on helping her down. The constant coming and going of carts and wagons, the roads marked by their wheels, was now beginning to feel familiar to Kleio.
‘It feels like a printing alley in Euljiro before they were moved.’
Even if he had come from a different world and was now a wealthy man with a relationship with the royal family, the nature of Kim Jungjin, a normal man, couldn’t be removed. For him, this place was more comfortable than any royal banquet hall with gold-plated cutlery and chandeliers. Kleio opened the creaky back door of the Bartleby & Bouvar print shop, listening to the sounds of the noisy printing press that began to leak out. An elderly man was sitting alone in the office: John Bartleby, the head of the shop.
“Hello, Mr. Bartleby.”
“Ah, Asel, you’re here.”
Bartleby, a still well-built man with most of his hair, was wearing a black suit suited for going to church rather than his usual work clothes. He had his cane nearby, which he only used when going out, by a bookshelf. As the head of the People’s Flag Schola branch and the capital’s printer union, he was a lively and fast-paced man.
“Is there anything wrong? You look pale.”
“Ah… it has nothing to do with a student… Come, sit down first.”
“If it’s okay, could you tell me what’s going on?”
“That’s right…”
Bartleby glanced out the window before looking down at his hands with a sigh, unable to speak easily. So far, Kleio had become rather friendly with him during his visits to the print shop to send communications to Fran. As soon as he knew Fran had accepted him as a colleague and as one of his only school friends, Bartleby had begun to treat him like a nephew. Kleio tapped Bartleby’s shoulder lightly.
“Even though I’m a student, it might be possible that I can do something.”
“It’s a long story… but first, who is this lady you brought along?”
Kleio and Dione silently exchanged a glance. It seemed that Bartleby’s circumstances couldn’t be talked about openly. Kleio quickly introduced her.
“This is Mr. Dione Grayer from the Grayer Chamber. She was looking for a print shop that could do a quick job, so I came here to introduce her.”
The two had already been in all kinds of places for over half a year, having signed an ethereal contract that had entwined their hearts. Grasping his intent in a heartbeat, Dione stepped up.
“My greeting is late. I am Dione Grayer, and I work for the Grayer Chamber. Nice to meet you.”
Dione, emphasizing only her successor status of the Grayer Chamber of Commerce instead of her nobility, naturally reached out a hand to Mr. Bartleby for a handshake.
.
.
.
Dione was able to understand the full story of the incident thanks to her ability to calm Bartleby’s alertness.
“The businesses I’ve been dealing with are saying they’ll cancel the calendar printing for next year. The banker in Beatus Autonomous Region also said it would cut off their request for paper consumables.”
“All at once?”
“Yes. I met the person in charge after I received a one-sided notification, but I received no explanation, and there was no renewal contract.”
“Nothing at all?”
“That’s what I mean. Our print shop has a lot of skilled workers, so the work is fast and accurate, and our wages are high. I also have many family members, so I’m worried about what to do.”
One client ending work wasn’t that strange, but it was unusual that multiple stopped all at once just before the new year.
‘Mr. Bartleby is sincere, and the shop has good reviews. I don’t think it’s a problem with the work.’
“Do you know the reason?”
Bartleby wiped his sweaty forehead with a handkerchief, then sighed like the ground was falling out from under him. Kleio waited patiently without rushing him. Eventually, Bartleby stood up and opened the bottom compartment of a cabinet in the corner of his office.
“I can think of only one reason… The fact that we printed this.”
What Bartleby pulled out was a thin 16-page pamphlet, folio edition 1). Quickly scanning it, Kleio saw that its contents urged workers to join the union to achieve worker rights. The writing was simple, but the content was in-depth. It explained step-by-step how workers could exert political influence under the representative system in a way that even those lacking in education could easily understand. Even if it didn’t contain brilliant logic or keen analysis, Kleio felt like he was able to recognize the author.
‘Alright. Just because he quit the Flag, he didn’t intend to become a quiet detective.’
“Mr. Bartleby, was this booklet written by Gibril Blanche?”
“…Exactly.”
Promise sparkled and glowed faintly. It seemed that the effect of Fran’s Propaganda was held within this pamphlet, even after it must’ve been printed on thousands of pages.
‘Unbelievable… Almost miraculous.’
The sentences crafted to move the heart served to bother the reader.
‘For those that sympathize with him, it draws deeper support, but it grabs eager backlash from his opponents. Two sides to the same coin… Ugh.’
Because of that, the livelihood of the print shop and those in the printer’s union were jeopardized. If Fran knew what was happening, he would be overwhelmed with a sense of guilt and responsibility.
‘He has a lot to do right now. It’ll be difficult if he tries to return to the capital. Now, when one of Melchior’s unique skills is blocked, it is a good time to be proactive.’
“It’s amazing. It’s like a dandelion seed that’s spreading from the streets of Arc.”
“You know how to say cool things, Asel. Yes, it’s spread far like a dandelion seed. Inquiries to join the union have increased, but I’m barely enough to face this threat.”
Bartleby was among the most moderate in the Flag. The Flag’s radicals had boycotted the commoners’ election last time, but he had supported Congressman Geston Palach, a member of the People’s Union.
“I don’t want a bloody revolution. Nevertheless, this retaliation… The cowards.”
“What was the contract term specified?”
“I was forced to receive a penalty. I tried to return it, but the guard kicked me out. The bank also refused to send money.”
Dione suddenly intervened at that.
“For those in the bank, this thin pamphlet must’ve been very intimidating.”
“Because there sixteen pages would’ve moved the hearts of the junior clerks and servants more intensely than any other.”
Dione’s face went blank as she listened. Her eyes were stained with cold light, like frozen water. She was in the manufacturing and retail industries, so no doubt this story had gotten her blood boiling.
“Mr. Bartleby has done a great job. You did it right. It would’ve been worse if you had made a fuss.”
“But this is where it’s left me. Not only do I have to pay the employee’s salaries, but I have to buy more paper right away, repair two printers, and buy new typefaces. The penalty fee will last for a few months, but cut-offs…”
Bartleby’s face fell. It would be difficult to acquire a new contract in the capital with the way things were. Kleio was conscious of the checkbook he had in his jacket pocket.
“Can I ask what the most urgent payment is?”
“That’s the paper price. The date is coming soon, and if you don’t deposit your money in time, your ranking will be pushed down next time you need to purchase paper.”
Kleio blinked like he was speaking an entirely different language, and Dione offered an additional explanation.
“Oh, all the printing paper comes from the royal paper mill. If you don’t get paper, you won’t be able to make printouts.”
“Miss Grayer knows this very well.”
“But the printing permission itself wasn’t revoked, right?”
“Yes, Miss Grayer. I haven’t owed any taxes or wages, but they couldn’t get their hands on that. Nothing is coming out even if I confess.”
“Mr. Bartleby, then, can I talk to you? Since Miss Grayer came here for that.”
“Yes, tell me.”
The three people stood still as they spoke.
“I’m trying to print a book.”
“What kind of book, and how much?”
In fact, Dione hadn’t yet heard the exact details.
“That’s what young Asel over here will explain in detail.”
Only Kleio noticed that Dione’s voice trembled slightly as she said that. It was obvious she was doing her best not to laugh in this serious situation.
‘How much interest should I give her… No, let’s not think about it.’
Kleio quickly picked up the ball.
“I’m going to make two hardcover books with about 300 left and right four-fold hardcover, and a low-cost softcover book with smaller typesetting and fewer illustrations.”
“Huh… no, I’m grateful for you bringing work in the midst of this; it’s like a gift from God. How many are you thinking of printing?”
“I plan to determine the number of copies by looking at the reaction three months after the release.”
“What do you plan to do for lengthening or post-processing?”
“I don’t have one yet. Could you introduce me to some people?”
“I can. There are a couple of companies that have been shaken in the aftermath of this incident.”
“Then, please do so. The detailed production schedule will be confirmed after the manuscript is received. How much is the cost of the printing paper before that?”
“Eight-thousand dinars, why…?”
“Then I will make the down payment at eight-thousand dinars, paying cash in advance.”
“!!!”
“Is it okay, Miss Grayer?”
“Yes, please proceed like that.”
Kleio took out his bank checkbook and casually wrote down the amount. John Bartleby’s eyes had grown to an abnormal size as he watched the boy sign the check.
1) Print paper size. 210×330mm.
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