Chapter 45

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Translator: penny

Chapter:

Chapter Title: Things That Have Changed

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So… well… people started to self-correct in their own way.

Could a single novel really solve this problem?

Though the incident had blown up because of the novel, the scale had grown far too large to resolve with one anymore.

It was natural to be skeptical… but it succeeded.

The biggest factor was that they'd crossed lines despite all that, suppressing opinions not with valid reasons but sheer momentum.

Once the anger subsided a bit, the backlash began to blow.

They took pride in trying to solve it with force. Why the hell did they film personal info? Get ready to visit the police station yourselves.

Such remarks started flying.

If an atmosphere of rebuttal had formed, things would've gotten messy. The battlefield would've opened up, and temperatures would've risen again.

Fortunately, a mood of self-reflection over the half-mad frenzy they'd whipped up allowed things to veer in a more positive direction.

That said, while people had calmed their rage and shelved ideas of private vigilante justice ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠against the criminals, they hadn't just sat idle.

Creating more victims wasn't an option, after all.

So they turned their attacks on the government. Do something—beef up regulations, pass new laws, anything.

Forget everything else; the very existence of companies abusing Beastkin was the issue.

But the real problem was the heaps of such companies harboring Beastkin living like slaves inside.

What was scary was that Aren had only spotlighted one—Aren's discovery might just be the tip of the iceberg, with far more out there.

From the government's perspective, who'd been twiddling thumbs, it must've felt like a spark had leaped and ignited a wildfire. But what could they do?

Doing nothing in this situation was the mistake. They'd taken heat for ignoring such a grave issue—what the hell had they been doing?

In truth, they'd never neglected Beastkin—not once, and they felt unjustly accused.

They'd continuously worked to improve Beastkin perceptions and provide welfare for them.

Except public opinion had scoffed at awareness efforts, and welfare proposals nearly tanked amid cries of "Why bother with those Beastkin scums?"

So why attack them now, after all that fruitless effort…?

But amid all this, one piece of news emerged that might actually benefit them.

A royal opened their mouth about the incident.

In truth, royals speaking up rarely changed much. They held zero real power.

Still, their image was golden—national fantasy idols, basically.

People generally viewed their words positively and followed suit.

This time, it was the most popular youngest princess.

Her message? "Beastkin are so pitiful." That was it.

No deeper statements. She even clarified she'd tread carefully on legal matters, as she was no expert.

...Did that cautious phrasing calm things? Nope—it just amped up the beatdown.

From the government's view, the princess's words were no lifeline.

If anything, she'd cheered on the mob. Not that she'd meant to.

Anyway, though the path was weird, the goal of making life livable for Beastkin was achieved, right?

With momentum like this, they rounded up all companies that'd slave-contracted Beastkin—no more tiptoeing.

They investigated spots like the novel's infamous one where similar abuses occurred,

crafted laws to prevent recurrence,

supported the Beastkin emerging from those hellholes to resettle,

and worked to renovate the sites into livable spaces.

Humans cheered this on.

Perceptions of Beastkin improved vastly from before.

Hatred-born views shifted rapidly with emotions.

Beastkin stepping out from inside couldn't grasp this kinder world.

It'll take time to realize the helping hands are genuine, not hypocritical or sinister.

That's fine. They'll wait as long as it takes.

And if there's more change…

Unlike scraping by with day labor out of necessity, Beastkin could now land decent jobs.

For example… yeah.

A Rat Beastkin becoming a cop.

"Man~ Never thought I'd return to this dump in my lifetime."

That was 'Quick Hands'—no, now 'Dan'—as they arrived where the two first met.

Why Dan? 'Quick Hands' is a mouthful.

So they sought an easier name.

If it'd been a cherished parental gift, he'd have hesitated.

But luckily(?), Quick Hands was an orphan who'd named himself.

'Wait, where's my say in this?'

'We agreed no input from someone with your naming sense.'

'….'

They puzzled it out: Hand reversed to Dhand, shortened to Dan.

Anyway, seeing Dan grumble, Hans shot back in disbelief.

"I still remember you screaming to be sent back at first?"

"Aigoo, I was scared then."

"Heh."

Their first day: Hans hauled Dan to the station.

Official charge: theft. But really, pity—he figured he'd run errands, feed him, slip him some paycheck cash.

Yet Dan, trembling at intake, adapted shockingly well.

He buttered up colleagues flawlessly.

Even pulled off sleight-of-hand investigations with his namesake skill, against all expectations.

Strong recommendations rolled in.

Short-staffed anyway, great results—why not try him? Probation period.

Beastkin cop symbolizes equality, nice.

He's acing practicals; just pass the written test.

Hans was among the recommenders.

'I'm not into cop stuff—what cop from a petty thief…'

'Dark pasts get buried.'

'What's in it for me?'

'Money.'

'Oh…?'

Not freebie—he took the test. Easier than standard, trimmed theory for field work.

In a world prizing practice over theory amid magic and auras, it worked.

Strength aside, his moves scored perfect for hazards.

"Cops parachuting in?" Objection raised.

Dismissed: "Who drops a crony as lowly errand boy?"

'Why study here…'

'Earn cash.'

'Got it.'

Smart cookie, good tutor—passed flying colors.

Back to now: they'd returned.

Not solo—mission, full squad deployed.

Mission: arrest the infamous company's perps.

"Man, my heart's pounding. Never dreamed I'd cuff those bastards."

"You're just assisting, dummy."

"Close enough."

Chatting idly in the lull.

"Dan-!"

"Y-Yes?!"

"Whatcha doing? Not working?"

"Hasn't started—"

"Get over here."

"...Yessir."

A blue-haired woman called from afar—Dan's senior.

One of few women, newbie till Dan stole the title.

Also his trainer and recommender.

"Dunno why senior snaps only at me. So polite to others."

"Tough?"

"Yeah, last training you drilled me all day."

"Not coming?"

"Coming!"

Dan grumbled softly, then bolted at her next call.

Hans watched, thinking:

'I get it.'

Ex-newbie facing crooks outside, old-timer uncles inside.

Then a near-age, cute guy junior joins.

Different treatment? Obvious why.

'Hang in there.'

Seeing her whisper to Dan, Hans thought that.

Changes weren't just big—small ones too.

Beastkin who'd quietly lurked on the bulletin board till now began joining in.