Yes, Madam Prime Minister

There was only one class in the entire third grade, and Ronan didn't count how many people there were, but there were about thirty.

The entire lesson focused on just one problem, a word problem involving multiplication and division. Given a wheat field of a certain length and width, the question asks for the size of the field, how much a serf can harvest in one hour, how much in five hours, and how many serfs are needed to harvest the land if the harvest is scheduled for a certain number of days.

This question is still very relevant to practical matters.

The French-occupied colonies were mainly in the Americas Mixed Agricultural Zone, with the northern part suitable for animal husbandry, raising pigs, cattle, chickens and sheep, the southern part suitable for growing cotton, and the middle part suitable for growing grains, wheat and corn.

The church school was located north of Cardina, where the governor's residence was located. Apart from small vegetable and fruit plantations, small ranches and tanneries, there were large wheat fields, which could be used not only as food but also for brewing.

Selling wine is the Seven Saints Church's traditional business; a monk might not be able to recite the scriptures, but he would certainly know how to brew wine.

The arithmetic lessons were extremely boring for Ronan.

Ronan had no interest in listening to lectures, but he was very interested in the students here.

First of all, this is actually a school within a school of this church-run primary school. Seventy percent of the students in this school are descendants of immigrants, but these descendants of immigrants do not attend classes with these children from lower classes. The remaining thirty percent are the children of the indigenous people, who attend classes in this semi-segregated school within a school.

This makes sense.

The students in this three-year, three-level class are all quite old, generally around thirteen or fourteen. In the indigenous community, they would typically study for another year, undergo a period of loyalty education, and after graduation, they would go to work on the colonists' farms or factories, and incidentally get married and have children.

There were only male students, no female students.

After all, very few girls can go to school locally, let alone here.

Throughout the class, two students caught Ronan's attention. One was a Native American boy who was nearly 1.7 meters tall, definitely considered tall among the Native Americans. This guy was the only one in the whole class who dared to raise his hand to ask the white teacher a question, and the white teacher even answered him.

This boy has the makings of a slave owner.

Another interesting point is that he was actually a Rag. Rags are a general term used by the white-skinned people of the Western Continent to refer to the bronze-skinned people of the southern part of the Southern Continent.

This was a mistake. It is said that when the first navigator to land in the southern part of the Southern Continent saw the Rag people, he pointed to the Rag people and then to the simple temple next to them, intending to ask what this place was. However, the Rag people misunderstood and thought that the navigator was asking what he did, so he answered "Rag". In the local language of that tribe, Rag means sacrifice.

There are many tribes in the southern part of the Southern Continent, each with different appearances and languages, but from then on, they were all referred to as the Lagh people.

The Lags were considered third-class citizens in the colonies.

The first class consisted of the colonists; the second class consisted of the natives who served as the colonists' dogs and were an important force in maintaining the colonists' rule; the third class consisted of the Lag slaves bought by the colonists. The Lags were useful slaves, and since they were bought with money, the colonists were generally reluctant to kill them; the fourth class consisted of the native slaves, who could be killed at will, and more could be captured if needed.

Logically speaking, a third-class person shouldn't be qualified to go to school, but he is going to school, which is quite interesting.

Moreover, he wasn't listening to the lesson; instead, he was secretly reading another book. But as the class was about to end, after the teacher assigned a homework question, several people around him looked at the Rag boy. Ronan and Shu Xi both had expressions that suggested he was about to copy someone else's homework. Clearly, this guy was still an excellent elementary school student.

After class, Ronan called the tall indigenous boy and the Lag boy out.

He led the two to an open space.

"Let me introduce myself first. My name is Ronan Artes. The newly appointed governor is my friend, and the archbishop is also my friend. You know the archbishop, right? He's the superior of your principal's superior."

“I’m planning to open a special tutoring class here. You two have great potential, and I have high hopes for you.”

"You should understand what I'm saying, right? You don't need to answer immediately. I'll give you two days to think it over. I'll stay here for the next two days to continue my investigation. You can come find me when you've made up your mind."

"Alright, I've finished speaking, I'm leaving now."

Having said that, Ronan didn't give the two boys a chance to speak. He simply sat on the shield float, drew a graceful arc in the air, and disappeared from their sight.

The two boys looked at each other, then went their separate ways without saying a word to each other.

Although they were classmates, they didn't get along well. The thirty or so boys from the same background were not united and instead split into several groups. In the first year, the Lag boy was alone and belonged to the third class, so naturally he was targeted. Fortunately, he was good at fighting and managed to defeat the three people who were causing him trouble. The tall native boy was the leader of the largest group at the time. Afterwards, he came to mediate, asking both sides to apologize to each other and agreeing not to have any more conflicts in the future.

Circumstances were beyond his control, and the young man from Lag had no choice but to accept it. From then on, he was all alone in his class.

As for the teachers, the school teachers don't care about these indigenous students. As long as it doesn't affect the immigrant children, these indigenous teenagers don't care if they fight or even get killed.

Meanwhile, in another part of the school.

Noah, the androgynous "stitcher," suddenly approached Ronan and said, "That Rag kid is a promising talent, my dear sir. When can I borrow him?"

The "creation" Noah refers to is the same as the "remodeling" in Chinese.

“You’ve probably encountered these totem-enhanced Ragmen before,” Ronan said. He had just sensed an unusual magical aura emanating from that Ragman child. It was actually a unique power of the Ragmen—totem enhancement, similar to merging with a summoned creature in summoning magic. However, the power brought by totem enhancement could only be unleashed for a short time, reaching a level beyond that of a novice mage.

Totem enhancement has virtually no growth potential, so it is far inferior to magic.

“This child is a bit special,” Noah said. “However, don’t worry, sir, I’m not in a hurry. After all, I’m here to witness those evil spells.”

The main reason he was willing to come to the New World to work as a temporary worker for Ronan was that he wanted to see the evil magic used by the native sorcerers, broaden his horizons, and see if it could bring him any new ideas.

"Where did those two go?" Ronan asked him.

Noah replied, "The blonde is watching the elementary school kids fight, and the withered old man just found a woman, probably the mother of one of the students here, and they're probably having sex right now."

"Ha, they gathered information about the school, and that's how they did it." Ronan said with a helpless expression.

Noah smiled. "One understands the students' parents, and the other gets along well with the students. I guess that's a way of gathering intelligence."

"You all have extraordinary skills. Never mind, I'm leaving now." Ronan was too lazy to say anything more.

"Yes, sir." This "sir" was not respectful; it sounded more like a joke.

Chapter 205 Biological Father, Illegitimate Father, They're All Fathers

O. Ulrich, the name of the tall Indigenous student Ronan met.

This string of names is not a given name and surname, but a nickname and a formal name. Before the arrival of the colonists, this was the case for lower-ranking warriors and lesser nobles among the indigenous people. They had a nickname given to them by their parents at birth, plus a formal name or title given to them by a senior figure in the tribe after their first hunt or battle.

There are no tribes now, so "O" is his nickname, meaning "howl of a wolf," and "Urilik" is a title his school teacher gave him, meaning "tall and thin."

In the past, during the tribal era, people of lower social classes only had nicknames, while the true aristocratic class had three parts to their names: a nickname, a formal name, and a family title passed down through generations, which was the true surname.

It was a weekend. After school, O had been out of the school gate for a long time when he came to a deserted place. At this time, his slave quickly brought over a horse. He didn't ride a horse at the school gate because some of the immigrant children didn't have horses. If he were seen riding a horse and it upset the children, he would be in big trouble.

The slave was also an indigenous person. After the horse stabilized, he immediately lay down and bent over to serve as a stirrup for his young master.

He stepped on the slaves to mount his horse and then went home.

Back home, Ao and his family enjoyed a good meal together: corn porridge sprinkled with chili and salt, large chunks of stewed meat, and several grilled fish. The food was much better than at school, where these indigenous people were lucky to even see a speck of oil.

After finishing the meal, his father called him aside and asked him about his studies at school. Ao replied that he was still the top student in his class.

The father took a puff of his cigarette, smiled with satisfaction, and said that the whole family would depend on him from now on. He was certain that he would smoothly take over his position and continue to serve the master.

O's smile was fake. His father was far inferior to him, barely able to speak a little French on his own, while he not only spoke French but also knew arithmetic and had a great deal of knowledge about agriculture and tool making.

But he was much better than his father, yet he could only do the same job as his father. How could he possibly be happy?

*Thud*, the pipe smashed directly onto O's body.

The father picked up his pipe and punched O'Brien in the face with his rough, calloused fist. He knew exactly what his son was thinking. "Fool, what good is it if you're better than me? You're comparing yourself to other people like you, competing with them for that one and only spot."

Ao lowered his head. He felt that his father's words made sense. His father was better than other fathers, and he was better than other children. He was the same as his father. But he also felt that something was wrong, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was.

That night, Ao lay on his stone-covered, straw-covered bed, unable to fall asleep for a long time. He kept thinking, trying to figure out what was wrong, but he just couldn't figure it out.

In the end, he could only sigh, "Perhaps the difference between us is that I can do better than my father, and the master will give me a raise."

He muttered to himself, trying to take this as the answer, but deep down he knew it wasn't the answer he wanted.

Then, O pulled a box out of a pit. Inside the box was an ancient artifact, which housed the soul of a wizard. The wizard had initially wanted him to inherit his magic, but O refused outright.

The witchcraft practiced by these people was called evil magic by the officials. Not to mention learning it, even watching it was a capital offense.

Even learning by stealing is forbidden, as some masters possess a mysterious ability to sense those who have mastered evil arts.

Ao looked at the box. He didn't want to learn witchcraft, but he wanted to ask the wizard what he should do in the future. He reached for the lid of the box, then pulled his hand back as if bitten by a snake.

In the end, O hid the box again, and then he remembered the man named Ronan who had spoken to him during the day.

On the other side, Chip, the Ragman Ronan was concerned about, was also unable to sleep. The reason he couldn't sleep was that his mother was making a lot of noise next door, and the person who made his mother make such noise was not his father, but the old master.

Chip didn't hate the old man, because he was able to go to school and see books other than textbooks, all because of the old man.

After a while, the mother's cries stopped, and the old man came to Chip's door and knocked.

Chip quickly opened the door, then knelt down and bowed his head.

The man, in his fifties, with a square face, a thick beard, and a burly build, lightly nudged Chip with his foot. "Get up. Do you remember what I told you was the most interesting thing in the world?"

“Make dogs like people, and people like dogs,” Chip replied, quoting his old master.

The old man sat down in the chair without saying a word. "You sit down too."

Upon hearing this, Chip sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Your mother's back door is still great to use, but I'm getting tired of it. Your sister is almost grown up too, so it'll be time for her to come along in a few days. Don't worry, I'll be very gentle." The old man then changed the subject, showing concern for Chip, "How's your studies going lately?"

“Still second in the class,” Chip replied.

"Hahaha." The old man laughed. He knew that his little slave was perfectly capable of taking first place, but he just wouldn't.

Chip remained silent.

"Have you made any progress with the magic I taught you?" the old man asked again.

“Yes, I feel like I’m almost able to undergo ‘enhancement’,” Chip replied.

Magic and his totem enhancement are in conflict, but his old master has some special methods that allow him to learn magic. After five years of study, he is about to step into the threshold of becoming a novice magician.

“That’s good. In a few more days, we might be able to begin a great undertaking,” the old man said with a smile.

Chip was about to kneel down to express his gratitude, but the old man stopped him, saying, "That would be very boring. By the way, you'll be graduating in a year. What are you planning to do after you graduate?"

“At your service,” Chip replied.

"You read those books and this is all you came up with?" The old man's face darkened. "I don't like dogs serving me; I like taming people and having them serve me. You should know that. I'll ask you one more time, what do you want to do?"

Chip gritted his teeth, took a deep breath, and expressed his inner confusion: "I don't know. I want to read more books, and maybe then I'll know."

The old man laughed, thinking his dog had really made something of itself. "A dog that dreams, that's very interesting. More books won't be a problem."

Chip smiled. Having books to read was enough.

The old man got up to leave, but just as he reached the door, he suddenly remembered something and turned back. "By the way, has your father been coming to the house lately to steal the money I give to your mother?"

Chip was furious at the mention of this. "I... I really can't kill him?"

The old man waved his hand, "No, your family needs a good jerk like that to be interesting."

"Oh, right, I'll come again tomorrow and bring you a horse. It's quite a distance to school, so having a horse will make things easier. That's all, I'm leaving now." With that, the old man disappeared in the blink of an eye.

Watching them disappear so hastily, for some reason, Chip thought of Ronan, whom he had met during the day.

Chapter 206 Invited, Meeting Up, Unconventional Strategies

Not every student lives as close to school as Chip, and even fewer have horses, since most immigrant children don't. Many students still stay at school on weekends.

So, over the weekend, Ronan recruited three students. If the two students from before were willing to join, the school would be almost full.

Yes, Ronan only plans to recruit five people for this training course. Firstly, time is limited, and fewer people will ensure the efficiency of his teaching and training. Secondly, the students he recruits are to lead another group of people, and the leadership team cannot have too many people, otherwise there will be trouble.

As for the fact that these students are only thirteen or fourteen years old, that's not a problem at all. Firstly, they come from the highest social class among the natives living in the governor's jurisdiction; their ancestors were low-ranking nobles, giving them a natural advantage in leadership. Secondly, they are actually not young, because the workers they are about to lead are also quite young.

No one would think that there were indigenous laborers over twenty-five years old in the factories of the colonists' handicraft industry, right?

The lives of indigenous laborers are extremely simple: they sign contracts to work in factories, save some money to get married and have children, work hard to support their families, and by the time their children are a little older, they are almost ready to die.

Serfs lived longer than them because farmers and herders at least had time to rest. Of course, serfs had no money and no right to mate, while workers had money and could marry and have children.

Before I knew it, it was Monday.

At this time, O and Chip, who had just arrived at the school, were brought over by Amanda, Elena's kinsman.

"It's good to see you two again. What's your decision?" Ronan asked them.

"How much is the tuition?" Ao asked. Although his family was considered high-income among the natives, and he even owned a horse, he had younger siblings. If the tuition was too high, his father would definitely not pay the money.

Ronan smiled. "There's no tuition fee."

Chip frowned. He had been prepared to agree, since he was not short of money and the old man was very generous. But Ronan's refusal to accept money made him suspicious.

Having read many books, he understood one thing: there is no such thing as a free lunch.

"Ha, what could a magician like me possibly have designs on lowly people like you?" Ronan retorted.

O lowered his head, just as he had before his father. He felt that Ronan's words made sense. They were just natives, while Ronan was a magician lord who was far more noble than ordinary lords.

Chip, however, boldly retorted, "Nothing is useless. Even if I were a pile of shit, I might still be useful."

Upon hearing this, Ao Shun turned pale with fright and instinctively took two steps back to avoid being affected.

“Haha, you slave are quite interesting,” Ronan laughed. “You are certainly useful to me, but what you learn from me will be even more useful to yourselves.”

Chip looked at Ronan, still harboring doubts, but Ronan's smile strangely overlapped with that of the old man in his eyes, which immediately put his doubts to rest.

"How long will it take?" Chip asked.

Ronan held up three fingers, "Three months."