A strange world

Chapter 1314 Section 236. Letter

After signing the loan contract, Joan returned to the mine and saw a group of people kneeling on the open ground.

Harding came over and said flatteringly: "I told them about your kindness, and they knelt on the ground and refused to get up..." He never mentioned that he kicked them one by one to make them kneel down.

The two officials from the empire didn't want to kneel, and they were kicked twice.

Joan didn't need to stand higher than others to gain superiority. She shouted: "Stand up, no one needs you to kneel!"

Fortunately, she had seen how Annan talked to the laborers in the past two days.

The laborers looked at Harding at a loss, and his scalp suddenly numbed, and his voice became shrill: "Why are you looking at me, Boss Joan is our boss!"

They stood up one after another, and Joan continued: "You know the treatment, I won't go into details. But there is one thing-I spent all my money to buy you back. So in the past half month, except for food and clothes, you won't get any wages for the time being."

She felt that making profits for the Freedom Gang was not selfish.

The workers didn't react. Even if they didn't get paid, what could they do?

"Okay, take a break today, get some food, and start working tomorrow." Joan waved her hand and asked the chef who was only good at cooking food to prepare dinner.

There's dinner?

Joan walked away and came back in the workers' unbelievable eyes.

"Oh, there's one more thing. You were arrested, right? Do you remember where your home is?"

The workers were silent, and Harding next to them stared fiercely: "The boss is asking you questions, are you deaf or dumb?!"

"Shut up."

"Okay." Harding shrank back.

One worker bravely said: "Gang, gang leader, we are all locals..."

"Very good, tell me your address later, I will have someone send a letter to your family to tell them that you are fine."

Compared with the previous treatment, Joan's words really made the workers come alive.

"Really?" The worker lost his voice.

Harding was about to say something more, but Joan glared at him and held him back.

"Really, I'm going to find parchment now. You can think about where your home is and say anything."

Joan pulled Harding out and slapped him as soon as he walked out of the mine.

"Boss... Boss?"

Although it was a pat on the shoulder, the soldier's slap without any mercy was enough to hurt Harding for a long time.

"Be gentle to the workers!"

"I'm not a woman, why should I be so gentle..." Harding muttered, and quickly shrank his neck: "I'm not talking about you!"

"Don't you have a family?"

"Boss, I have two daughters." This guy's face was full of pride and happiness.

"Do you think those workers have daughters? Maybe their daughters are starving or sick, and then they are deceived by slave traders and caught here and die here. Their daughters have no one to take care of them and can only die at home. Can you imagine what happened to you?"

Harding's eyes gradually turned red: "I... dare not imagine it."

His daughter is everything to him. Just thinking about his own death, his wife and daughter starving to death at home, and being bullied by bad people, his heart feels like it has been cut by someone.

"So do you understand? They are the same as you. If it weren't for me, their families would never wait for them to return. Don't treat them as tools, they are flesh and blood, living people."

"Boss, you are such a good person!"

Not to mention the Valoran Basin, the entire Broken Mining Area is estimated to have literate people who can't fill a room, so Joan asked Harding to buy some parchment, quill pens and ink - the money was paid by Harding first.

When Harding, covered in snow, came back, night fell.

The gang members were in high spirits, holding torches and wrapped in cotton clothes, patrolling around the fence. In the mine, the standing torches illuminated the open space as if it were daytime.

Joan sat behind a table, with a long line of workers in front of her, all wanting to send letters.

"Name."

"Hahahahaha Rod."

"Do you stutter?" Joan looked up.

The worker had a simple face: "My eldest brother is called Harold, and my father was too lazy to think of a name, so the second brother was called Harold, the third was called Harold, the fourth..."

"Okay, I understand..."

Joan lowered her head and wrote "Hahahaha Rod" in the signature. Although this name was weird, it was better than the guy named Dog Shit just now.

"Who do you want to write to?" Joan asked again.

"My eldest brother, second brother, third brother, fourth brother."

"What?"

"I'm fine."

Joan looked up again: "No more?"

"I... I didn't make any money, nothing to say."

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Joan had no choice but to continue writing the letter whose signature and recipient were longer than the content, and asked Harding, who was acting as an assistant, to put it into the letter paper.

Hahahaha Harold walked away with a satisfied smile, and another laborer stepped forward...

At first Joan felt that she was asking for trouble, but as she heard more and more stories, she, Harding, and the surrounding gang members fell silent at the same time.

The team was getting shorter and shorter, and Joan noticed that three laborers were hiding in the distance and didn't come over. She waved to them: "Don't you need to send letters home?"

"I don't have any family."

"I'm the only one."

The two imperial officials said at the same time, and the boy with fine hair on the corners of his lips, who was obviously not an adult but was sold by the slave traders because of his body size, said: "Me... me too."

Joan couldn't help but ask gently: "Do you want to join the Freedom Gang? I eat meat, you eat meat, everyone eats meat."

"Yes!"

The boy with many whip marks on his exposed skin said bravely.

The two officials had no choice but to shout yes.

"Very good, the Freedom Gang will be your family from now on."

Joan continued to write letters with her head down. About two hours later, the last worker's letter was finished.

"Alright!"

Joan raised his head with a long breath and found that the former workers and gang members were also staring at him eagerly, and even Harding showed a flattering and disgusting expression.

It seems that he has to write far more than fifty letters.

It's okay if he is a little tired.

Joan didn't say anything, let them line up, and continued to write letters with his head down, but a shadow was outlined at the corner of his mouth.

It was the first time she felt such a sense of fulfillment...

Annan gave her a home-like feeling, and Ilimoyas gave her a sense of security, but in front of these people, she clearly felt that she was needed.

So it's not that I don't have desires, but that I haven't found my desires?

The two officials saw Joan's performance and felt less disgusted with her pretending to be a princess.

But the news still needs to be reported.

Late at night, the last gang member walked away happily. Joan rubbed her wrist, feeling more tired than holding a sword.

Harding walked around from the side to the front, Joan sighed helplessly, and picked up the deformed quill again.

"Go on."