xymnovel Chapter 79 Listen to his mother, make a scene! His Highness has come to distribute "private gra
Chapter 79 Listen to his mother, make a scene! His Highness has come to distribute "private gra
"pension?"
"Medical insurance?"
These two unprecedented words, seemingly existing only in mythology, exploded like two bombshells in the minds of thousands of workers.
The clamor and cursing that had lasted for nearly an hour in the square vanished eerily at that moment.
The crowd went from deathly silence to whispers, and then to an uncontrollable commotion.
"I...I didn't hear wrong, did I? Your Highness means...the country will give us money when we get old?" An old worker with a weathered face tugged at the sleeve of the person next to him, his voice trembling as he confirmed.
"And what about illness... He said he was sick, and the government took care of that?"
"How could that be... His Majesty the King never said that..."
"He's lying, isn't he? When have those noble lords ever cared about our lives?"
A skeptical old worker might cry out, "Your Highness, your words are more eloquent than your actions! Once this storm passes and you return to Athens, who will care about us?"
Doubt, shock, longing, disbelief... countless complex emotions collided and fermented violently among the crowd.
But no one shouted slogans anymore, and no one threw stones anymore.
They just stared intently at the young prince standing on the steps, as if trying to discern from his face whether this was a blessing from heaven or an even crueler lie.
Standing at the edge of the crowd, surrounded by reporters, Congressman Dimitrakopoulos was deathly pale.
His knuckles turned white from gripping the cane so tightly.
Finished!
It's all over!
His mind went blank, leaving only those two words.
He simply couldn't understand why the situation had slid in such a completely unimaginable, even absurd, direction!
All the impassioned speeches he had prepared about "humanitarian crisis" and "oppression of the people by officials" were stuck in his throat, and he couldn't utter a single word.
Constantine didn't give them much time to process the information.
"Good question! That's why I'm not leaving! From today onwards, the port building will be my office! I will personally witness the first pension payment being deposited into your hands!"
He knew that for these people who had been deceived and oppressed for too long, the promises of words were far less impactful than the reality before their eyes.
He turned around and gave his second order to Kostas, who was already staring in disbelief.
The sound, amplified by the still-operated loudspeakers, once again resounded throughout the venue.
"Kostas!"
"Yes, Your Highness!" Kostas straightened up abruptly, his voice booming.
"Open the Skopelos family's warehouse number two! Take out all the smuggled flour, cured meat, and olive oil! Now! Immediately! Distribute them to every worker's family present today!"
"Let them see with their own eyes! Let them touch with their own hands!"
"How much blood have these oligarchs sucked from them, how much food have they stolen from their children's mouths?!"
"yes!"
With a roar, Kostas led his twenty men like tigers descending a mountain, charging directly towards the massive Warehouse No. 2 not far away.
The crowd automatically parted to make way for them.
Under the watchful eyes of thousands, the heavy iron lock on the warehouse was roughly pried open by several team members using iron crowbars.
"boom--"
Two huge warehouse doors were pushed open by the combined force.
In that instant, sunlight flooded into the dark warehouse, illuminating the mountains of supplies piled up inside.
Neatly stacked bags of snow-white flour printed with foreign words!
Rows of huge hams and cured meats hung up, their color glossy from smoking!
Barrels of perfectly sealed extra virgin olive oil, emitting a delightful aroma!
These supplies were piled up like mountains, almost reaching the ceiling of the warehouse!
And these things, on any given day in the past, even a small portion of them would have been enough to allow the children in the port slums to have a bountiful festival.
But they were treated as smuggled goods and hidden here, never seeing the light of day.
This scene had an indescribable visual and psychological impact on all the hungry workers.
Their last and strongest psychological defense was completely shattered at this moment.
When the first bag of snow-white flour was handed to a thin girl, she froze, her small face filled with disbelief. She reached out her dirty fingers and carefully poked the bag, then clutched it tightly, as if it were the most precious treasure in the world. Her mother, a haggard woman in her thirties, watched this scene, her legs buckling as she knelt on the ground, bursting into tears. The tears were not of sorrow, but of boundless catharsis and gratitude.
No one knows who it was, but the first person knelt down, facing Constantine's direction, and wept bitterly.
Then, the second, the third...
In the crowd, a thin young man suddenly raised his fist and, with all his might, roared out the slogan that changed history.
"Long live Your Highness!"
The roar was like a spark thrown into boiling oil.
"Long live Your Highness!!"
"Long live Your Highness!!!"
A deafening roar of cheers erupted from the crowd like a volcanic eruption!
This sound rang out for the first time over the port of Piraeus.
The sound was overwhelming and devastating, completely drowning out all the previous curses and doubts.
Those thugs mingling in the crowd, hired by the Skopelos family, and the agitators sent by Zaimis, instantly became pariahs.
The color drained from their faces, and they were filled with panic, like rabbits being targeted by a pack of wolves, wanting nothing more than to turn and run away immediately.
But it was too late.
"It's him! That scarred guy! He's the one who just threw the stone!"
"And that guy in the plaid shirt! He gave me 10 drachmas and made me shout slogans cursing His Highness!"
"Grab them! These traitorous scum!"
The angry workers spontaneously exposed these scoundrels who had taken bribes, one by one.
They were surrounded by an angry mob, punched and kicked, and cried out in pain.
That "people's dagger," meticulously forged by the oligarchs and coated with deadly poison, was intended to stab Constantine in the back.
In the blink of an eye, Constantine snatched it away.
Then, he grabbed it in his hand and stabbed it hard into the chests of the oligarchs themselves!
Costas directed his men to "rescue" the bruised and battered agitators from the workers, tie them together with ropes, and take them down the steps.
Senator Dimitrikopoulos, his face ashen, collapsed in his carriage, frantically ordering the driver, "Hurry! Get out of here!"
Constantine, witnessing the dramatic scene before him where the oppression of the people had instantly transformed into widespread popular support, handed the metal megaphone in his hand to Kostas beside him.
His body heat still lingered on the loudspeaker.
He looked at his loyal subordinate and said calmly:
"You see, Costas... sometimes, people's hearts are more effective than bullets."
On this day, he not only quelled a rebellion that could have overthrown Athens without bloodshed.
More importantly, in the heart of the oligarchic group, he amassed the most loyal and largest "people's army" for himself.