If one overlooks the excessive physical labor, the bell tower keeper's job is a fine pastime for old folks. Yes, one must rise early each morning for the tolling, yet after the evening bell, there is truly little to do. A task perfectly suited to the elderly who sleep lightly at dawn.
Barnabas, the bell tower keeper of the capital plaza, had thought so until yesterday. But now the situation is different.
Waaaah-!
"Damn it all...!"
Barnabas leaped up and let out a curse. On days like these, even late-sleeping youths are forced awake at an early hour. The old man's one comparative advantage has vanished.
Waaaaah-!
Withdraw that high-level 'kicking down the ladder' problem! The shouts from outside grew so loud the bell’s ring could barely be heard, yet Barnabas held himself in check. The target of those parent protesters was Isaac.
And to make an enemy of Isaac in this Empire is an act of suicide. Whatever the cause, those folk will meet no good end. As he foresaw, days later, the parent protest faction lost steam and toppled.
But just as there is a cellar beneath the floor, an even rougher lot pushed their way in.
"The water we drink, the trains we ride, the food we eat!! All of it passed through whose hands?!"
Following the call, the crowd shouted back. -Isaac Isaac!
"Who is it that dares block the path of Sir Isaac?!" -Parents Parents!