Non-Humans and the Poll Tax (5)
As dusk settled in and the gathering dark crept over the streets, the merchants who had been hawking their wares began folding up their stalls one by one.
That was when a rough-looking pack of men appeared.
They were tax-collection contractors led by a man named Deren — infamous in the neighborhood.
Everyone froze in alarm, abandoned whatever they were doing, and scrambled to hide. Even the child sitting on the ground mid-sob went silent the moment their eyes met. Beggars snatched up their coin-filled bowls and bolted.
Buoyed by the spectacle, the men squared their shoulders and swaggered down the street.
"Boss, people are gonna think we're some kind of street thugs. Hahaha!"
"Tell me about it. Kinda hurts my feelings, honestly. We're working for the Empire, and they treat us like uneducated scum."
"Huh? Now that you mention it… Want us to just tear the whole place up for old times' sake?"
"Heh. Let's see how things look after we're done here."
"Got it, Boss!"
Like a starving wolf hunting for prey, Deren rolled his eyes and scanned the surroundings, searching for the shop he was supposed to collect from today.
"Hmm. There's supposed to be some general store called Traveler's Something-or-other around here…"
"Boss! If I may — do you mean the Traveler's Basket?"
"Ah! Traveler's Basket! That's the one!"
"Straight ahead, then right at the fork. You'll see it immediately!"
"That so? Then let's move. Finish quick so we can rest too."
A sharp-eyed underling stepped forward and took the lead. Deren followed at a leisurely pace, a greasy smile curling at the corner of his mouth. Hands clasped behind his back, he strutted as if he were some highborn noble. Had actual nobles seen him, there would have been trouble — but it didn't matter. In this commoner district, Deren was the law. He was the Emperor.
— BANG BANG BANG!
"Hey! Open up! Tax Bureau!"
They arrived at the general store called Traveler's Basket. Before Deren could even speak, his men rushed the dilapidated door and pounded on it.
— Creeeak!
"T-Tax Bureau…?"
The wooden door shrieked open, and a lovely young girl appeared, pale with terror. Her face was white as chalk; her voice trembled. It was a familiar sight to Deren and his crew, and they snickered among themselves as they looked her over.
"Heh. Look at this little spitfire."
Deren went further, raking his eyes up and down her body and smacking his lips.
"I-If this is about taxes, we already p-paid a few weeks ago…"
The girl shrank into herself, squeezed her eyes shut, and tried to protest — but it was useless. Deren's men twisted their faces into ugly scowls and started working the atmosphere.
"What, so you're saying we came to the wrong place?"
"You think the Ministry of Finance is a joke? You think the Tax Bureau is a joke?!"
"Kihihit! Boss, want us to just smash everything?!"
Under their intimidation, the girl could only shake. Sensing his moment, Deren approached her with that same greasy smile.
"Let's see here. Kane, proprietor of Traveler's Whatever general store… outstanding poll tax of two silver pieces, is it?"
"What?! T-Two silver pieces? That can't be right! Father paid it a few weeks ago, I'm sure of it…"
"Father? Ah! Then you must be Kane's daughter — Amy."
"H-How do you know my name…?!"
"Heh heh heh! We're from the Tax Bureau, remember? When we collect the poll tax, of course we know the names of every family member."
"Liar! It's all lies! The poll tax is ten copper pieces per person!"
Amy bit down hard on her lip and shouted at Deren, who was staring at her with those sticky eyes. He only snorted and shook his head.
"You're still young, so you don't understand how the world works. Base poll tax is ten copper each, plus the cost of supplies needed for collection, plus a gratuity for the tax accountant who settles the books. Add storage fees and our service charge on top of that, and it comes to one silver piece per head. So you two owe two silver."
"We're not even paying our taxes in crops — why would you need storage fees and supply costs?! And what's this about accountant gratuities and service charges?! Accountants and you people already get paid for your work — why are you demanding that from us?!"
"Now, now. Living on Imperial soil and refusing to pay the taxes you rightfully owe?"
"That's not it — you keep saying these ridiculous things…!"
"If you keep this up, we'll have no choice but to proceed with enforcement. Looking at you, all you've got is this half-collapsed general store. I wonder if you'll be all right."
Amy gaped in horror, stammering incoherently. Deren flicked his tongue across his lips and showed his true colors.
"Well… if you spent a little quality time with me, I might be able to help you out."
"……!!"
"Got anywhere inside the shop we could lie down? Heh heh heh heh!"
"S-Stay away from me!!"
As Amy stumbled backward in shock, Deren advanced one step at a time.
"That's our Boss! What a man!"
"Kheh! Once you fall for the Boss's charm, there's no climbing back out! That girl's done for!"
"Boss! Just throw her down already!"
Deren's men couldn't contain their excitement and whooped with delight. His rough hand was about to close on Amy's shoulder when—
"I can't watch this filth any longer."
A voice thick with killing intent rose from behind Amy, and a man in uniform stepped into view. Deren and his underlings sucked in a sharp breath at the sudden appearance. The man swept a cold, utterly emotionless gaze over them.
"Hah. A household of two people, and the poll tax is two silver pieces. I had my suspicions, but I never imagined it would be this bad."
"Who…?"
"Watch your tongue."
"Ahem! Ahem! Pardon me, but who might you be…"
"You're asking for my name first? A lowborn thing with no sense of its place. How insolent."
The arrogant bearing, the high-handed manner, the oppressive aura rolling off him — it was the kind of presence a commoner could never hope to imitate no matter how hard he tried. Deren realized it on instinct.
This man was a noble.
Damn it. Just when the stew was almost done, someone dumps ash in the pot.
Deren bit his lip hard and eased a step back. His men swallowed dryly in unison and all looked to him.
What now?
Leaving his waiting subordinates behind him, Deren's mind raced. The man had already seen them shaking people down under the pretext of the poll tax. If it had been a commoner, silencing him would have been easy — but this one was both a noble and a government official. Touching him carelessly could get messy.
Judging by the uniform, he's some kind of Imperial civil servant… but a noble official coming alone to a dump like this?
After a moment's thought, Deren decided to deal with the man in front of him. Noble or official, anyone who would bother visiting a shop like this had to be some nobody at the very bottom of the ladder.
Right. Wilson's got my back anyway. A tax delinquent refused to pay, we moved to enforcement, and this guy just happened to get caught in the middle and died — dress it up as an accident…
Wilson stood behind him, and behind Wilson stood Director Theodore. Considering how much money Deren had funneled to them over the years, making one low-ranking official disappear in an "accident" would be nothing. Even if something went wrong or the situation got tangled, it didn't matter. If Deren went down, Wilson and Theodore went down with him — status and rank be damned. Like it or not, they were already in the same boat. The moment things looked like they might blow up, Wilson and Theodore would step in before he even had to ask.
Tch. No choice.
Having resolved to kill the man before him, Deren shot his men a sidelong glance and gave a slight nod. They caught the signal and closed in as one.
"We're commencing enforcement."
"We gave you plenty of chances."
"Hey, Mr. Official. Better clench those teeth."
They blocked the entrance as a group, spouting plausible lines while glaring daggers. And yet — the man only smirked as if they were beneath contempt and began peeling off his gloves. The message was clear: Go ahead. Try me.
"You son of a—!"
"Hey! Take him down!!"
Deren's men spat curses and drew rusted daggers from their coats. But before they could charge, a thick darkness suddenly swallowed them whole. The fading sunset, the comrades standing right beside them, even the man in front of them — nothing was visible.
"W-What is this…!"
Deren collapsed in sheer terror. He couldn't see an inch ahead. It felt as though he had been sealed inside a pitch-black chamber. What on earth was happening? He was still reeling from a situation he couldn't begin to understand when—
"Truly magnificent greed."
The man's voice cut cleanly through the dark.
"So magnificent that even a demon would click its tongue in admiration."
"A-A demon?"
"Yes. A demon."
"You crazy bastard…!"
A demon? What nonsense. This had to be some kind of illusion magic. Deren clenched both fists, cold sweat running down them. Illusion magic like this would dissolve on its own given time. But no sooner had the thought formed than a pain like something gnawing at him surged up from the tips of his toes.
"GAAAAAH!!"
And so, little by little, feeling his body torn to shreds, Deren died in the dark.
"Haa. Worthless scum."
As the darkness that had settled over the area withdrew along with those men, I clutched my forehead against the oncoming headache and let out a sigh.
"You're safe now."
I took my hand away from Amy's eyes and immediately pulled my gloves back on.
"Wh-What?! W-What just…"
Deren and his men had vanished in an instant. Amy stared at the empty shop entrance with her mouth hanging open.
"Once I'm back, I'll determine exactly how much those contractors extorted from you and your father, and I'll see to it that your future taxes are waived."
"What?! R-Really?!"
"Yes. And on behalf of the Imperial Household and the Ministry of Finance, I apologize for what happened today."
"No, please! Thank you! Thank you, Tax Collector, sir!!"
I had only done what any decent person should. Amy kept bowing to me over and over, fat tears rolling down her cheeks. I watched her for a long moment, steadied myself, and headed straight outside.
"Thank you! Thank you!"
Amy shouted her gratitude at the top of her lungs until I was out of the alley. I never once looked back. I simply walked toward the Ministry of Finance in silence.
Goddamn Tax Bureau. Goddamn Ministry of Finance.
I'd wanted to quit so I wouldn't have to look at filth like this. And yet here I was. The battlefield had been better than this.
— Crunch. Crunch.
At the bone-chilling sound that lingered in my ears, I twisted my face into a scowl and walked on through the night-darkened streets. And walked on.