1885, I came to save Greece

Chapter 151 The King and the Beggar

The next morning, before the sun had fully risen, an inconspicuous single-horse carriage bumped and jolted to a stop at a chaotic street corner in the port of Farilo.

The car door opened, and a man and a woman got out.

The man wore slightly worn gray engineer's overalls, his sturdy boots were speckled with mud, and he had deliberately smeared a few streaks of machine oil on his face, giving him a weathered and worn look. He was no longer the high and mighty crown prince, but simply a German engineer named "Karl" who had come to Greece to make a living.

The woman changed into a simple dark blue cotton dress, her long golden hair tied back with a simple headscarf, and she carried a cloth bag full of books. Her elegant and noble demeanor was deliberately toned down, making her look like a female teacher visiting relatives in Athens from the countryside.

Constantine and Sophia exchanged a glance and walked into the port area.

In stark contrast to the clean and fragrant Royal Palace Square, the air here was a mixture of the salty smell of the sea, the soot from coal at the docks, the sourness of cheap wine, and the stench of sweat emanating from the crowds. The enormous steam cranes roared, foremen shouted in hoarse voices, and the sounds of clashing metal and tumbling cargo created a noisy yet vibrant symphony.

Instead of heading towards the gleaming trading companies and shipping houses, they turned into a narrow back street. Beneath a row of low-rise workers' dormitories hung a simple wooden sign with crooked Greek writing on it—"House of the Workers."

This is a workers' canteen, or rather, a café, opened by the "Workers' Welfare Association".

Pushing open the creaking wooden door, a strong smell of tobacco and sweat hit me.

In the small space, there were a dozen or so well-worn wooden tables, filled with dockworkers who had just finished their shifts. Some were arguing loudly, some were smoking cigarettes silently, and others were playing a game using pebbles as chess pieces.

On the wall, painted with whitewash, were several yellowed sheets of paper. One was an excerpt from the Labor Protection Act personally promulgated by Constantine, next to which were the course schedules for literacy classes and night school on mechanical principles.

Constantine's gaze swept over it, and his heart sank. In the corner of the night school schedule, a hastily drawn skull in charcoal had been drawn.

He and Sophia found an empty table in the corner and sat down. A lame teenager brought them two cups of bitter coffee.

Sofia didn't drink her coffee; her gaze was drawn to a young woman at the next table. The woman was holding a small, thin child in her arms, but she just sat there blankly, her eyes vacant, tears falling drop by drop onto the cold tabletop.

Sofia took out a piece of black bread wrapped in a clean handkerchief and a small first-aid kit from her cloth bag. She walked over to the woman, knelt down, and spoke in the gentlest tone.

"Sister, your child doesn't look too well. I'm a teacher and I've also studied some nursing. Would you mind if I took a look at him?"

The woman numbly raised her head and saw Sofia's clear and friendly eyes. Her taut nerves seemed to snap suddenly. She didn't speak, but simply held the child and let out a suppressed, animalistic whimper.

Sofia didn't ask any further questions. She simply reached out and gently stroked the child's forehead. The child had a fever. She took a small bottle of medicine from her first-aid kit and patiently showed the woman how to give it to the child.

Perhaps it was this sudden act of kindness that melted the woman's defenses, and she finally spoke, her voice hoarse and broken.

"It's no use... It's all that damned father's fault!"

"He used to be the best crane operator in the port. We saved up money, planning to rent a better place in another year... but he got hooked on that stuff, that 'black honey'..."

The woman's cries were like a dull knife, cutting into the hearts of everyone present.

"First he sold my dowry, then the furniture in the house... The day before yesterday, he even stole the money meant for the child's medicine! I begged him, I knelt down before him, but he kicked me away... He said he would die without 'Black Honey'..."

"He's not human anymore, he's a monster!"

Once the topic is started, it's like throwing a boulder into a calm lake.

"It's not just him! Nikos from Pier 3 died in the warehouse last week! He took too much and was completely drained!" a burly man with a full beard whispered.

"And that foreman Vasily, he used to be such a shrewd guy. Now he's always talking nonsense, saying he can see fairies dancing in the sky. I think he's not far from going mad."

The word "black honey" hovered in the café like an invisible ghost. The workers' words were filled with fear of this stuff, yet mixed with a morbid curiosity and longing.

Just then, the wooden door of the coffee shop was pushed open with a bang.

Stavros, lame and leaning on his signature wooden cane, entered. The muscles in his face were taut with anger as his gaze swept across the room, finally settling on the weeping factory worker.

He didn't recognize Constantine and Sophia, who were disguised in the corner. He simply slammed his cane heavily on the ground, making a dull thud.

The entire coffee shop fell silent.

"Cry! What's the use of crying!" Stavros roared at the crowd, his voice filled with powerless rage. "Your brothers, your husbands, are being dragged into hell by the devil! And you just sit here and watch?!"

"What can we do?" someone whispered in protest. "That thing is more persistent than the devil! We called the police, but they just don't care!"

"Yeah, they only target poor bastards like us for gambling. They wouldn't even give a second glance to those 'black honey' dealers!"

Stavros's chest heaved violently; he wanted to retort, but couldn't find any compelling words. He was merely a union representative; he had no law enforcement authority.

Constantine, holding the cup of bitter coffee, slowly walked over. He stood in front of Stavros and spoke in a slightly awkward German-accented Greek.

"Hello sir, my name is Karl, and I'm an engineer from Germany. I heard that the Port of Piraeus is undergoing a large-scale expansion, so I've come to see if there are any job opportunities."

His opening remarks were ordinary and did not arouse any suspicion.

Stavros glanced at him; the German looked very professional, and his eyes were sincere.

Constantine continued, "After listening to everyone's conversation, I am very worried. In Germany, what factory owners value most is the morale of their workers. A listless worker who cannot concentrate poses a fatal threat to production safety. Any expensive machine can be rendered unusable due to a small mistake."

His professional terminology and heartfelt concern instantly struck a chord with Stavross.

Finally, finally, someone "in the know" understood his biggest worry! This wasn't just a matter of workers getting sick; it was a matter of life and death for the entire Greek industry!

Stavros seemed to have found his only confidant. He took "Karl's" hand and led him to an empty table to sit down.

"Mr. Carl, you're absolutely right! You don't know, we..."

He poured out all his resentment and worries about "Black Honey," as well as some fragmented clues he had investigated, to this "German engineer" he had just met.

Sofia quietly held the feverish child, watching her husband use a false identity to bear the most real suffering of a country.