We watched the loading of the dust into containers. That made us gloomily feel the array of "what the fuck" emotions, at the scale of this shit. Of course, I knew what the heyday of my father's business was built on, but in fifteen years it would all have been over, and the peak of exploitation of both faunus and common poor people in Mistral, and in other states, had to pass.
At the moment, something like this was like to crawl up to the moon in a crayfish position, to be honest.
And right now it was actually possible to fix something, because all this nonsense with the acceleration of progress is meaningless if there is no more Salem, and the Grimm - mostly due to the lack of coordination - will weaken and stop reproducing themselves in such quantities. I would be genuinely afraid to change anything if I didn't have a memory of technologies from the future and an understanding that all this was actually allowed. It closed - or helped to close - the eyes of seemingly law-and-order-obsessed people like Ironwood. And it was allowed not because Jacques had good arguments or beautiful eyes, but because raising the economy and the strength of the army to the heights to which it was necessary - without cheap dust, in the absence of research facilities and in such a short time - was simply impossible.
Since Raven was not in human form, but decided to fly to a suspicious camp, as a bird, we could not swear out loud. This did not interfere with our mental swearing, of course, but I did not learn anything new from her in terms of cussing, which wasn't surprising much.
People - faunus and ordinary people - lived here in extremely vile conditions, and on the containers, despite the obvious absence of a traditional snowflake, there was a letter marking "SDC". Marking was achieved by cauterization of containers with the help of tools similar to stamps, and this was done by some kids aged from five to ten. Most likely, the children of workers.
It literally fucked me up, of course, and I wanted to run there, smash everything, disperse everyone and yell that this is all not Schnee, this is the preparatory work of Jacques Gele. Who has already become something of an acting CEO, but has not yet taken the reins of power from my grandfather completely. And these things - which were cooked up under Nicholas' very nose, but he was not aware in any way, because he simply would not have thought of it - would finish off grandfather in a couple of years after Whitley is born. And then he will go on a well-deserved rest, not even suspecting who contributed to all this bullshit. For Grandfather Nicholas, all these accusations of dishonesty and lawsuits, complicated accounting, embezzlement and pressure from the Atlas Council, which has not yet learned to look correctly in the right direction at the wave of the head of the Corporation - all this will become the last grains of sand for him that will break his spine.
The only good thing that Jacques Gele taught me is to delegate, so it's unlikely, I think, that Father is running around with his tongue hanging out on his shoulder and arranges everything himself. That is why I am absolutely sure that Jacques just made sure that there was a hellish manager locally, and at the same time everyone knew that the Dust was extracted here by the order of grandfather Nicholas. I mean, this is our mine, yes. But Nicholas himself only found it and marked it on the map at the time - grandfather is not a businessman at all, very unfortunate. And such nuances for him are some kind of nonsense. It is after his retirement that the Schnee corporation will leave its mines on other continents, pretending that it has nothing more to do with it.
Is it logical? Maybe. Morally good towards others? No.
The crow - that is, Raven as a crow - burst with lots of croaking, and then decided to fly back.
When she landed and turned back human a couple of dozen meters before the Branwen camp, I had something to say, and I did not fail to do it, because control oddly passed to me.
"It's not just the tragedy of the people we've seen, Raven, maybe you don't give a shit, really. This is a personal tragedy of my family. Salem could wait."
"What do you mean, wait?!" she started in an extremely indignant tone, and I felt in my gut her attempt to take control back.
And I will gladly give it back to her, but only after she listens to it.
"Raven. Help me save my mother."
After a short pause she stopped trying to take the reigns back from me. She mentally sighed, as if trying to gain patience, and said.
"I'm listening, Weiss. Now, give me more details."