"Where's your guardian?" One of the bureaucrats asked in Elfrikaans. Jan turned to look him in the eye to check if he had any funny ideas, but the stern looks on their face made him think otherwise.

It was the Victorian era, after all. Women's rights were practically non-existent. No, that will be the wrong phrase to use, it should be limited.

"These are dangerous parts. Who knows what will happen to you without your guardian?" Another pointed out, but the woman moved to the side and showed the musket being slung on her back.

The men could only frown.

"It is not a toy. It is a rather dangerous weapon. You might hurt yourself."

The woman frowned, and Jan feared the matter might escalate so he decided to step in personally.

"What's with all the posters being put up? If you have any issues, you could speak to the local Commando," He spoke in Dutch and observed the woman before him. Her tanned skin was an indication of someone in the rural class. Her face was similar as if they have met before.

"Commando Jan, we met at the gathering hosted by one of the merchants. I did not want to go, but my family forced me. But if you don't mind, allow me to speak freely," The woman spoke in English, clearly knowing what's Jan preferred language was.

"Go ahead."

The men around him relaxed. It was only a woman; it was unlikely she would pose much of a threat.

"Boer society is inherently patriarchal. A patriarch sits at the top and determines how things are run. Women are side-lined in such a society and are even discriminated against. When I was at home, I always looked out the window and found the female elves walking about in broad daylight without guardians. The Boers shot them nasty glares, but they were free. I wished for that sort of freedom, but no one around me supported it. Even my friends who grew up indoctrinated by their families paid no heed."

"So, you want equal rights to men? Like how the elves are seen in their society? But that is untrue. Because the elves organise themselves in a matriarchy. Females hold most of the leadership positions. And men are side-lined to do tasks that the other elves refused to do," Jan rebutted, looking around him. The bureaucrats on his side were unsympathetic. They didn't care about such things. They only wish for either their daily life to continue peacefully, or that their living standards to improve.

"No, I wish for men and women to see as equals. There is no difference in whether a man or a woman rules. The elves can organize themselves around a woman. Humans can organize themselves around a man. Why can't elves organize themselves around a man? Why can't humans organize themselves as a woman? There is no difference in capabilities between a man and a woman, and I wish that society see it that way."

He took one more glance around him, before saying, "I understand what you wish for. But my hands are tied. You should know it is political suicide to push for such measures. I do not know whether Andries Pretorius will support me if even his supporters oppose such a measure. A couple of weeks ago, we had to put them down in a revolt. If we push this, I fear we will have another revolt on our hands. While I cannot guarantee what you wish immediately, I can guarantee that I will make incremental changes, dependent on public approval."

"Then the posters shall continue to be put up. Now leave me be before another scandal besmirches your name," The woman stormed off in a huff.

Jan left, while the bureaucrats cracked jokes at the woman's expense, seeing her as a fool.

"What is this? Property rights? You're going to allow women to have property rights?" Head of Administration, Russell scanned the title of the papers being prepared.

"No, a woman already has property rights. It's just that married women lacked such rights, and their property all passed to their husbands. I would like for a married woman to have property rights."

Russell shook his head.

"Political suicide. Why would any husband support this measure? The only way you're going to get this through without some unrest is if an incident is sparked."

"So, something along the lines of an honest woman who worked hard on her family farm, giving her all to her family. But the husband is an indulgent wastrel, who gambled and drank all the money away. The woman is now demanding to take ownership of the husband's property to raise their children because quote, in her own words, 'that fool clearly cannot manage his finances'. You think a sob story like this would work?"

Russell began thinking and nodded.

"Possibly, but who is going to trick everyone with such a sob story?"

"Look up all the merchants in town with a printing press. Narrow it down to unmarried daughters. Narrow it down to their daughters with tanned skins."

Russell smirked, "I presume that is your preference, sir?"

"…"

"First batch of canned food produced by Belgium Canned Co. I have already tasted a can. I believe it is suitable to your palate, at least that's what my Dutch customers would say, but perhaps the Elfrican climate has changed your palate," Canned Food Manufactory manager Siebe Baert explained. He passed a can to Jan.

"How do I open this?" Jan twisted and turn the can, looking for a familiar metal ring to pull. It did not exist.

"You need to use a hammer and a chisel," Siebe reached for the two and angled them against the can.

The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

"Isn't this a little too extreme?"

"It's the easiest way to do it. Until some genius comes up with a better way to open this damn thing!" Siebe began hammering against the chisel and slowly chiselled away the top. Removing the lid off the can, he revealed corn beef.

"You could eat it raw, but I recommend cooking it. Especially if you're on the march. But you could ask some of your elf servants to cook it for you during any military campaigns."

"How many can you make?"

"We initially could make about six cans per hour, but we're slowly increasing the rate we could make them by increasing the workers. Making the cans is the biggest bottleneck, if we could make them faster, we could make more. The price is absurd for the poor, as I've said, it is a novelty item. There's also a reason why a few militaries adopted it. It is absurdly expensive to feed a soldier."

Jan walked around the workshop floor, watching the Dutchmen making cans and cooking food.

"Tell you what. I'm not planning on going on any campaigns anytime soon. So, give these initial batches to the local merchants. I'll still pay the cost in full. Try to get them to purchase a few cans for novelty's sake. If you're unable to get any orders, I'll order some more cans to subsidise the production cost. I could use some for future military campaigns. Perhaps Pretorius might be interested in some, he likely has deeper pockets."

"I will ramp up production if it is needed. But I am still trying to train the workers. I'll let you know if England has any new machinery that can help with throughput. My Belgian associate would let you know if they have copied the mechanics of such machinery and replicated it in Belgium."

'Looks like Belgium is this period's China…'

"You know, madam. We have met a couple of times, but I don't remember your name."

"My father told you my name a couple of times at the gathering, I presumed you were not paying attention."

"Why should I? I was mainly concerned with building rapport with the local urbanites."

The woman who vandalised the walls with posters was currently meeting him in his office. Her father did not bat an eye upon hearing the two's meetings, seeking to profit off it.

"By the way, may I ask that you did this?" Jan placed a poster on the desk. It was a racist human supremacist poster saying that elves were inferior or whatnot.

"I see why you seemed shocked that I may make something like this considering our previous conversation. But I can assure you, I have little to do with it. I have no ill feelings for the elves. I admire them. That was why my posters specifically target you."

"For most people, infuriating them makes them less likely to listen to you. You're lucky I give you the time or day to listen to you."

"Cathelijn Buncke, daughter of a family that makes a living of printing presses. Commando Jan, a pleasure to meet you."

"Jan Boddewijk, Commando of Port Mpande. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Jan began divulging his plans about the fake story he wanted to cook up so that he could drum up support from the locals to push through this reform.

"I did say I would do something about it. Although I would not be able to push for women's rights, it is a small step in the right direction."

"Why are you doing this? You're a man, aren't you?" Cathelijn studied Jan from head to toe, confirming his masculine attributes. It was hard to determine due to his weak physique, unbefitting of a Commando.

"It's very simple. You should know we number in the hundreds or the thousands here in Elfrica. The elves number in the tens of thousands. Now take our numbers and divide them by half. That's how many contribute to the local economy or even defend their towns. Women's rights would allow us to use all the resources we have."

"Is that all you see us? Humans as resources?"

"I'm not the only one. And don't complain so much if it's helping your cause."

Cathelijn frowned.

"Alright. I'll spread the fake news you've planned. Consider it a test run of sorts for our partnership. If you do your job well. Then you have a human resource that can sway public approval."

The fence divided both parts of the town. It kept his job, keeping people out from each side of the town. Either side had volunteer guards watching the other side, and people who wanted to pass through the gate had to give a good reason to both sides. But mostly, they usually said no, grinning at the dissatisfaction blooming on the individual's face.

Still, there were reports of illicit trade being conducted, breaking the edict implemented by Pretorius, blocking all trade from the Zulus. Jan did circumvent it once for the burgeoning can food workshop and didn't respect the edict. But the majority of the population, the rural farmers who live off homesteaders were extremely concerned with such trade. And the establishments in the port had to show their patriotic support to buying local as they've put up Boer supremacist signs outside all their establishments.

NO DOGS OR ELVES ALLOWED

WE SERVE HUMAN WATER NOT ELVEN PISS

HUMANS ARE SUPERIOR

The last one had people nodding their heads as they pass by the establishment. It was obvious whoever instigated this planned to do it. They wanted to put pressure on him to firmly enforce the edict put up by Pretorius. Else, they're going to escalate it and bring Pretorius once more. And the second time, it was likely he was going to be sacked and Pretorius would install someone else to do the job. He can only run back home to his father's district to lick his wounds.

Due to the wave of human supremacism spreading, he had fewer and fewer contact with the elves. He had not seen Nokuthula in weeks and did not plan to do so very soon. Last time, it was to make the deal for cheap Zulu food to be used in the canneries. But now, any contact might get him deposed.

He watched the Zulus go by their day-to-day business on the other side of the fence. Before the escalation of tensions, the Zulus were slowly adopting human culture. They wore human clothes and ate human food from time to time. But he could see how the elves began wearing their traditional clothes once more, clothing that was best suited for the Elfrican climate.

He watched the guards, suspecting that it was them facilitating the trade. They were the only possible suspects. But their lazy eyes as they leaned against the fence to snore told him otherwise. It wasn't that simple to resolve.

But he headed to his real destination, the Anglican Church, led by an English missionary that hailed from England. The missionary was frustrated with the fence put up, cutting off their attempts to civilize the natives. The more he thought about it, the foreign missionaries had more reasons to trade with the Zulus to increase contact with them. It was likely they didn't care whether the locals were angry. What were the locals going to do? Kill them? They're not savages after all.

"Pastor Jeremy Pierce, a pleasure to meet you. Apologies for the recent turmoil, I am sorry for all the trouble it has caused."

"Commando Jan Boddewijk, that is not a problem. Because the Zulu side of town is sealed off. That elf traffickers are forced to stick to the Boer side of town. It is easier to track their whereabouts."

"I hope you do not cause too much trouble, pastor. You should understand that slavery is legal in this town. I do not support it; you know my personal feelings on the matter. But my people support it, and there's little I could do to change it."

The pastor frowned.

"It is wrong, a sin to enslave another being! In England, we never had any laws on slavery! I'll make sure to not implicate you, Commando. But I'll apologize for any incidents resulting from my investigations."

Jan grinned.

"Let's talk about more important matters. You see, somebody is sniffing your activities pastor. Someone is not following the guidelines set by Pretorius on trade with the Zulus. And I suspect you're the one involved."

The pastor grimaced.

"Although we live under such savage laws, we do abide by them from time to time. Although those farmers love to mark up their prices…"

"I say that because I remember the clothes donation drive for the Zulus. Since the Zulu compound is gated, where would those clothes go? They should go to the Boers, right? But how come I have not heard any praises in the markets about the nice English missionaries handing out free clothes to the Boers? I think our Boers do deserve charity; we are not wealthy by any means. The poorest Englishman is probably living much better than the poorest Boer."

"The Church's business is not your place to interfere in, Commando. You respect our boundaries, and we respect yours, Commando."

Jan shook his head.

"But I gave you much leeway. You are free to pursue those slaveowners seeking to sell their slaves to foreigners. I don't care, I am willing to cover you if one of them starts making a ruckus. But when I ask you to give charity to Boers, you refuse. Let me describe it from another point of view that is beneficial to the Church. You see, your main operations are in Boer town. Then wouldn't it be best to increase support with the locals so that they would support your future operations? Right now, the rural farmers are complaining due to the illicit trade with the Zulu. Maybe if you give them charity, you could influence them to do as you say."

"It will take a long time for any of the things you say to come through, Commando."

"But we're playing the long game pastor. You've built a Church here, haven't you? You plan to play the long game with me, right?"

"…"