The Orphans Like Me Too Much (3)

I'd been wandering the empire, repeating the cycle of pickpocketing on the streets and sneaking into mansions with security. It was one such day.

"It's too scary to go outside the castle walls because of those bandits."

"They say if you have nothing, they'll take your life instead—straight-up slit your throat."

I overheard some seriously ominous chatter in the market. Just as they said, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠public safety in the area was crap. No, it felt like the empire's security was in the shitter overall lately. That must be why cults like the Demon Church were gaining ground.

The Rogue Master's Legacy—ring spat out a new quest. Rogue's honor, my ass. If I wanted honor, I would've job-changed into a knight. But the original Rogue Master who left this legacy seemed to think differently from me.

Yeah, no way I could pass that up. I had zero interest in Rogue's honor, but Clone Technique was a must-have skill, so I started gathering intel on the bandits.

"I'd like some details on the bandits. How big are they? Where do they usually show up?"

"Hup!"

"What a stunning beauty!"

I flipped back my deeply hooded cowl to reveal my face, and the people around gasped in shock. Using this face ability makes folks in most situations respond politely and helpfully, no matter how rudely you butt into a conversation.

"Let me explain using this map. Here's the castle—head out the south gate, and you'll see that mountain right there. That's their hideout. But it's not just there that's dangerous; if they spot a big merchant caravan, they'll launch a raid, so don't let your guard down."

The guy unfurled a map and gave me a thorough briefing, even though I was just some random passerby. Listening closely, it boiled down to the entire area around the city being a hot zone.

"Miss, you're a real knockout, so be extra careful if you don't wanna end up in a bad spot."

"My buddy's distant cousin through marriage is in the guard—if you want, I can hook you up with escorts when you leave the city."

I turned down the excessive kindness from these strangers and slipped out of the market.

"The empire's security is totally fucked."

Rise and fall, the moon waxes only to wane. A stable country just means entrenched old powers clinging to authority. That makes it hard for new power players or the rich to emerge, and social mobility grinds to a halt. Connections trump talent for success, bribery and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠corruption run rampant. Yeah, stability is just another word for rot.

The Millennium Empire. This place is rotten to the core. No wonder lunatics who're human yet want to revive the Demon King are popping up everywhere.

Not that I, the daughter of Marquess Confeld—one of the four great nobles and lord of the western granaries—should be saying that.

Eh, I'm not really into grand talk about politics, justice, or the nation anyway. I just want each moment to be fun, and to get a little stronger if I can. That's enough for me.

But this scene is hilariously over the top.

I could've wiped out the bandits from their hideout entrance onward. But doing it out in the open would've let the higher-ups scatter. So I used my specialty—Stealth skill—to sneak right into their base undetected. And what I saw there was...

"Flor! Even so, this portion is way too small."

"Everyone's hungry, so let's all share and make do."

"I'm the action captain, damn it. How am I supposed to lead the charge on an empty stomach like this?"

"Then take my share. But keep it secret from the others."

"No way! You'd starve to death!"

The bandit action captain was throwing a tantrum for more soup from a little girl and fumbling over it awkwardly. It was the kind of absurd scene you'd see in a comic about gangsters raising kids. Since moments like this don't come around often, I clocked the girl's identity right away.

That kid was Flor. The future saintess.

Should I refresh on the original romance-fantasy plot this world is based on? How to Melt the Cold Emperor's Heart—that was the title, and the gist was this: Flor, the poor-born girl who endures hardships but stays resilient, bright, and positive, meets the swordmaster emperor whose heart's been frozen by a tragic life, and heals him with love. Tags: #SunshineHeroine, #RegretfulMaleLead, #ObsessiveMaleLead.

Most romance-fantasy heroines are kind, empathetic, and upbeat by default, but Flor was on another level. Not just sunshine—she was the sun itself. Or maybe a massive nuclear reactor heroine.

I remember. This bandit ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠group's episode.

Flor was one of the kids taken hostage from a rural village. They made her do chores and errands, and she gave them an excuse to extort the village periodically. And being a girl, once she got a bit older... yeah, that would've happened.

But even captured by bandits, Flor stayed relentlessly bright, positive, and kind. And this band wasn't made of guys who'd dreamed of being outlaws. They were folks ruined by freak weather that wrecked their farms, with no proper relief efforts, so they turned to robbing to avoid starving.

They mistakenly thought farming was hard and pillaging easy, becoming bandits—but one little girl named Flor brings them to repentance. In the end, they turn themselves in... only to get executed.

Flor's life doesn't get smooth after that either. Her name means "flower," but her path is rougher than roadside weeds. Still, she holds onto her positive attitude to the end, like some biblical zealot who never abandons faith no matter the suffering.

Is that personality what makes her a saintess? Or does being a saintess make her that way?

"Mind if I snag some of that soup too?"

"Who the hell are you?!"

The action captain went on high alert, while Flor eyed me slowly with her round, sparkling eyes.

"You're super pretty, big sis!"

"Who I am? You don't need to know!"

I slammed the action captain to the ground with a backhand strike. He was weak as hell, separate from how strong I am. That's typical for farmer-turned-bandits—they're pushovers, not even knight trainee level, let alone regular army.

"Whoa, you're crazy strong!"

To a kid clueless about the world, I must've looked impressive.

"Just gimme one bowl of soup."

"Here you go."

Flor scooped some into a bowl without a hint of fear toward a stranger. The soup was goddamn awful. One potato per pot, a few tree nuts—fuck, there's actual dirt crunching in here. If you're skimping on ingredients, at least clean 'em properly. Total bland slop. Might as well be plain water, but the faint, volatile flavor was seriously unpleasant. And the real dirt that came with the earthy smell? Bonus.

At this point, the bandits must've already quit robbing.

I could tell execution was right around the corner from the action captain's attitude toward Flor and the pathetically trashy soup chunks.

If Flor follows the original plot, she'll hook up with the emperor, thwart the Demon Church's schemes, and all that. But somehow... I don't wanna let that happen.

Damn, I'm such a glutton for punishment.

Maybe we need to redefine what "grimdark" means. Human history's 99% was starvation. Warm homes and tasty food as "normal" is a super short blip, limited to certain places anyway. So yeah, 99% of history is grimdark.

Instead of Flor suffering like that, seducing the emperor, and pulling a Cinderella reversal... wouldn't ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it be nicer if she just lived a normal, happy life? Am I being too sentimental?

The Demon Church? It'll sort itself out somehow.

Look at this tiny squirt, Flor. For her to grow into the original heroine, we've still got like five more years. Prep time? We've got plenty.

"Take me to your boss. I wanna talk."

A bit later.

"Are you an angel sent to save us? Or a reaper come to drag us away?"

The bandit leader was a fallen priest. The type who'd prayed to God his whole life, then cursed and apostatized when no salvation came in this godforsaken world. He took one look at me and started babbling like he mistook me for some heavenly being.

"Neither. Just a passing thief."

Not an angel, but I was here to save them. More precisely, to recruit them for some jobs.

Giving someone work counts as saving them, right? What else is it?

"First off, scrap the surrender plan. You'll all get executed."

"We've taken lives, so we must pay the same price."

"And this kid? She'll get labeled a witch accomplice and thrown in prison."

I pointed at Flor, and the leader blinked vacantly.

"You really think dying atones for killing others? Compensation means restoration, not your death balancing the scales."

I don't strictly believe you should never kill. If the situation calls for it, you do what you gotta do. But I'm the type who'll twist my words any way needed to persuade someone.

"If you've killed, the only way to make up for it is saving even more lives."

Sophistry, sure—dead victims and saved lives aren't the same, so how's that compensation? But to sway this fallen apostate, I pulled out every bullshit argument in the book.

"So you—become director of my orphanage."

I'd been feeling the need for a subordinate organization anyway. I decided to take over the whole bandit crew.