Conquering OtherWorld Starts With a Game - Chapter 159: Ones Pursuing Fairness

“How can there be something this stupid? What does this have to do with doing the job well?” Phoebe, her face flushed in anger, argued. “Isn’t it just about getting those townsfolk to work and then paying them? As long as you can read and do arithmetic math, that’s enough. What’s the need, like you said, to understand whether others are in pain or not? And who’s there to understand my pain?”

“Calm down, Phoebe. Are you seeking an answer or just venting your emotions? If you don’t care about the real issue and just want to shout, then get out.” Mia’s tone hardened.

Phoebe knew how much Lord Rex valued Mia and that the undead respected her too. She didn’t dare truly anger the woman before her and tried to control her rage. “Okay, miss, I swear I just want an answer, one that can convince everyone.

“The others and I can read but can’t become clerks. We really don’t understand why we can only stay in the shelter, do monotonous work, constantly wash clothes and potatoes… It’s really unfair!”

Mia’s expression softened as she mulled for a bit before asking, “Phoebe, is it fairness that you care about?”

“Yes!” Phoebe asserted.

“But I don’t see you showing much concern for fairness in your daily behavior,” Mia pointed out. “Even excluding today’s incident, there have been a number of people you’ve humiliated. I’ve heard you mock others as ‘old women’ or ‘freaks’ more than once.”

Phoebe’s face flushed red again as she said in exasperation, “So, that’s it? I was targeted because others are jealous of me? How disgusting!”

“You see, Phoebe, you instinctively think you’re envied by those you look down on. You care too much about your attributes of beauty and youth, even refusing to acknowledge others’ merits.” Mia sighed. “Phoebe, I want you to understand something. Injustice always exists, just as you were born beautiful and others find it hard to be as charming as you. But those who claim injustice must first must start with themselves and deny all forms of unfairness.

“If you believe you are younger and more beautiful and should thus receive more advantages and respect, entitling you to look down on others, then when the criteria for judging a person’s value isn’t youth or beauty but kindness and empathy, you, who have a poor character, should accept the ‘injustice’ meted out to you. Why would you have any grounds to be resentful?” Mia reasoned.

“If fairness truly exists, if it’s something everyone should strive for, how can it only exist when you need it and disappear when you don’t? Isn’t that unreasonable?”

It seemed as Phoebe’s fiery anger was quelled by a bucket of cold water splashing over her, and she rapidly paled.

Mia was sharp in her words, yet her tone wasn’t not harsh. People were visual creatures, and Mia was no exception. Mia was more than willing to appreciate Phoebe’s pleasing beauty when she didn’t cross any lines.

Gently, Mia continued, “I’m from the Duchy of Shiga. In my homeland, only women of a noble family can come out to work like men, and ordinary daughters have no chance of prominence. I’ve heard it’s similar in the Rhine Kingdom. Have you ever wondered, Phoebe, why Lord Rex, Mr. Yang, and Mayor Ji insist on including women in the town hall?”

Phoebe looked up in shock at Mia. She had never considered this question… She was consumed by the widening gap between herself and those she once scorned, like Sibyl.

Mia went on, “I’m not as educated as you. I know only simple letters and basic arithmetic. In Shiga, girls from ordinary families like mine are bound to looms from an early age. We may not even recognize our own names, but we must understand weaving. When Lord Rex wanted me to manage logistics, I doubted my capability. Despite Mr. Finley or Mr. Tuttle being more knowledgeable in inventory and distribution, Lord Rex insisted on me. Do you know why?”

Before Phoebe could respond, Mia answered her own question, “For fairness. It’s to set a fair example for Weisshem and show that we from Taranthan, along with the undead, strive for and cherish fairness. We do not accept that the high-born should tower over the common folk, and similarly, we will not tolerate discrimination or injustice against women. That’s the real reason I became a logistics official and why these women could become clerks.”

Phoebe was astounded, her mouth hanging open, which she even forgot to cover with her hand. “Th-this—”

“When everyone turns a blind eye to injustice, those who seek fairness must start with themselves, showing their commitment to fairness and opposition to injustice. That’s how others can believe in you,” Mia said more softly. “I know you’re a thoughtful person, Phoebe. If you feel you’ve faced injustice, I hope you can show me your determination.”

Phoebe couldn’t remember how she left Mia’s room.

She was actually a frequent visitor to Mia’s room… and she knew all too well why she was a “regular.”

Phoebe despised those old, unattractive, and foolish women. Living with them, eating the same food, washing the same clothes and potatoes made her miserable. Whenever possible, she would ridicule and cause them trouble—who asked them to always be so noisy, chattering loudly all the time, which sometimes inexplicably turned into sobbing?

Phoebe never saw anything wrong with her behavior. She was always the most noticeable, the most prideful. She was used to feeling superior to others. When others angrily retorted that she too would age and lose her beauty, she dismissed it as the bitter howls of the defeated.

Mia didn’t point out the inevitable aging and fading beauty but rather told her that the world was filled with injustice—which was like a huge boulder shattering her self-esteem, awakening her from long self-deception.

Phoebe rushed upstairs to the room she once occupied—the luxurious bedroom she had as the headliner of “Elegant Dreams.”

Several months had passed, and the room had changed drastically. Unnecessary furniture was removed, and so were the carpets and curtains. The space was divided with wooden partitions, and wooden makeshift beds were added, transforming into three eight-person dormitories.

Upon entering, she ignored the women who were sewing, chatting on the semi-open balcony, or struggling to read the newspaper. One woman, who had clashed with Phoebe several times, rolled her eyes. “Again? How many times must we tell you, Miss Phoebe? This is no longer your bedroom, and we don’t want you as a roommate!”

Phoebe didn’t respond. She just stood at the door in a daze.

She had entertained many prestigious clients in this very room.

The memory of her “Elegant Dreams'” former boss, Greene, flirting with her on the balcony, seemed as if it happened only yesterday.

She often reminisced about her days as the top performer, feeling that was the fairest time of her life. Her natural beauty earned her superior treatment, luxurious clothes, and exquisite food as she trampled on all the less fortunate women beneath her.

But… was that truly fairness?

The exquisite, expensive meals she enjoyed while pleasing her clients were just their regular meals. The beautiful dresses she received in exchange for her body were discarded by noble ladies after a single wear.

She had overheard clients discussing how a noble daughter inherited an estate, how a lady’s wealth made counts propose, or how a thrice-married woman remained highly sought after…

These women, whom she deemed less beautiful than herself, were born into positions and wealth she could never dream of attaining.

Phoebe had entertained clients who, in her eyes, were more despicable than street shoe shiners, as repulsive as swine. Before them, she always had to maintain utmost subservience; a single disdainful glance could enrage these powerful patrons who could easily crush her life.

Was this truly fairness?

Her face grew paler, and her body trembled slightly. Phoebe felt the acute sting of realization.

Someone noticed her distress and whispered, “What’s happened? Who upset our Miss Phoebe this time?”

These sarcastic remarks, which Phoebe usually interpreted as jealousy and took pride in, now pierced her heart like needles.

Who was she to be called “Miss”?

In a sudden motion, Phoebe turned and fled.

Mia was surprised by Phoebe’s return. Seeing the usually proud young woman in tears, Mia was taken aback and quickly pulled her into the room, closing the door to shield them from curious eyes in the hallway. “What happened, Phoebe? Did I go too far?”

“Mia, is fairness real? Can it truly be pursued?” Phoebe, tears streaming down her face, clutched at Mia’s arm. “Can someone like me… can I also attain fairness?”

From the day she took charge of resettling the mistreated of Main Street, Mia had seen too many such breakdowns. The red-light district, a paradise for pleasure-seekers, was a living hell for those providing the “pleasures.”

Redressing Phoebe’s tears with a handkerchief and holding her hand gently, Mia said softly, “Yes, there is fairness in this world. It’s just that too many people refuse to acknowledge it, wanting only to hoard all the benefits for themselves. That’s why fairness is so rare and injustice so rampant.

“We’re striving to change Weisshem’s atmosphere to create a place where everyone can be assured of at least the minimum fairness.”