Chapter 35
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 34
Chapter Title: Kid's Dad (2)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
After that, everything went off without a hitch.
By the time the evening sun dipped low on the horizon,
the procession hauling us sinners had reached the heart of the kingdom,
and Noy and I were tossed straight into a cell.
"Get in there, you filthy criminal scum!"
Clang.
The heavy iron bars slammed shut, followed by the click of a lock.
There was no trial or interrogation or anything like that.
I wasn't even sure if such procedures existed in this world.
Even if they did, you'd probably need to be a noble to get one.
No way in hell did slum rats like us have any rights,
and since we'd already been branded criminals on arrival,
it was just straight-up arrest and imprisonment.
A dim underground prison.
The only light was a flickering torch at the far end of the corridor.
The damp floor reeked of mold,
and rats scurried about with their incessant squeaking.
"......"
Time lost all meaning.
Day or night? One day or two?
Who knew. They fed us when we got hungry, and we slept when we got tired. That was it.
The only glimpse of the outside world came from
the mouths of the guards who occasionally tossed in our slop.
"Hey, chow time."
Clank.
Two rock-hard chunks of black bread rolled in through the slot.
The guard rapped his club against the bars and grinned sleazily.
"The whole kingdom's in an uproar, thanks to you."
"Yeah? Did they finally figure out I'm innocent?"
I picked up one loaf, dusted it off, and tossed it to Noy huddled in the corner.
He shoved it into his mouth and started chomping away.
"As if. Shameless bastard."
The guard cackled and kept talking.
"Duke Kaintrea made an official statement."
"......What'd he say?"
"The family has absolutely nothing to do with this Paradise Powder mess. Not even a hair's breadth."
Tail-cutting. I saw that coming.
That very first day he'd summoned me,
hadn't he said it himself?
If it worked, we'd break even.
If it failed and the family name got dragged in,
he'd just play dumb: "No idea, grab the rat and go~."
"And he was all torn up about it, too.
Said some lowly scum who ate from the family's table had acted on his own, way above his station.
Ungrateful wretch who bit the hand that fed him, blah blah blah."
The guard spat on the floor and shot me a look of contempt.
I ignored him and coolly pressed for the rundown.
"Right, right. So that's the 'uproar' you mentioned?
Doesn't seem worth getting worked up over."
"That's not all."
The guard whistled through his teeth.
"The duke's taking the moral high ground—donated a fortune to the kingdom.
Even handing out essentials to us common folk. Total chaos out there."
Oh ho.
Smart move, no doubt.
Clean getaway plus winning the masses.
Dump all the dirt on me, cut it out like a tumor,
and emerge as the benevolent noble with a shiny new image.
Worthiest of the continent's top conglomerates,
that duke could've been a corporate bigwig in my past life.
"What a guy."
"Ain't he? And you're the scum of the earth now."
The guard's mocking laughter echoed through the cell.
Made sense.
The brighter the light, the darker the shadow.
Derek de Kaintrea.
The more they hailed him as a noble saint embodying noblesse oblige,
the more unforgivable I became—the one officially declared to have betrayed his grace.
The louder the cheers for the hero,
the more folks itch to hurl stones at the villain.
To the kingdom's people right now, I was public enemy number one,
a backstabbing traitor they'd love to chew up and spit out.
"......Hmm?"
At this point, a thought crossed my mind.
What if the one who pinned it on me
was the duke himself?
......Nah, no way.
Hard to imagine him going through all that hassle just to cut loose a nobody like me.
If I rubbed him wrong, he'd just have me sliced up on the spot.
No need to broadcast it kingdom-wide with donations and supplies.
A profit-maximizer like him wouldn't handle it this way.
Not unless he had to watch his back around someone.
"Anyway, congrats."
"Huh? On what?"
I snapped out of it and eyed the guard.
He flashed three fingers through the bars.
"Date's set."
"......What date?"
"The day your head rolls."
He folded them one by one, dropping a word each time.
"The duke pushed hard for it. Said make an example, punish a hundred through one."
Like a countdown,
"Wants you sent off real spectacular-like."
He slashed his last finger across his throat.
"Public execution."
"......"
"Three days from now. October 1st, noon, central square."
Bam!
The guard slammed his club one last time and sauntered off whistling.
Silence returned.
I stared at the stale black bread in my hand.
It was tasteless enough already, but now even my appetite was gone.
"...Daddy. Daddy. Bread..."
Noy had wolfed his down already and was eyeing mine.
"......"
"......?"
"Sigh, fine. You eat it all."
I tossed it over, and he bit in with the glee of a kid at a festival.
"Munch... hack, cough..."
"Hey, you little dimwit, slow down. You gonna choke to death on bread?"
I patted his back like I used to when he was a nursing twin,
then offered him the muddy-smelling water nearby.
He gulped it down and beamed.
"Thanks! Daddy!"
"Fuck, I told you I'm not your daddy."
I was too tired to argue anymore.
His broken brain could think what it wanted.
Besides, this ridiculous 20-year-old fake dad and 15-year-old daughter routine
would be over in three days, like it or not.
"......All I can pay for your milk is three days' worth."
"Huh? Milk?"
The word flipped some switch in him,
and he crawled toward me.
"No milk's coming out no matter how hard you squeeze my nips.
So stay back."
Still, he burrowed into my arms.
No point—he never understood anyway.
At least he sniffed around my chest,
"......No daddy milk."
"I ain't got moobs."
realized it was flat and gave up.
Instead, he shoved his head into my lap.
"Sleepy. Bedtime."
"...You're something else."
His face went slack and he dozed off on his own terms.
Full belly, sleepy time. Wake up, eat, shit.
A total infant—or beast.
I was used to it by now, so whatever.
Whether it was the Paradise Powder frying his brain
or Beat's shitty parenting from way back,
ever since we got thrown in here together,
he'd always snuggle up like this at bedtime.
My mind was already a mess,
but hearing the exact date of my beheading made it worse.
I rested a hand on Noy's scruffy head right below me and said,
"Hear that? They're donating big time.
Handing out barley and cloth to us commoners or whatever."
"......"
No reply, of course. He was asleep.
"Moral responsibility, compensation for victims...
But get this—ain't it weird?"
It had struck me funny at the time.
"The ones who actually got hurt were you,
Beat, girls like that.
But the money's going from the kingdom's coffers to the commoners' pockets."
Duke Kaintrea's play for public favor.
But that favor didn't extend to
folks like me,
Beat and Noy,
Rinea.
Slum dwellers.
And yet every place I'd killed and torched was outside the slums anyway.
"......What am I doing."
Before I knew it,
I was stroking Noy's hair.
Stop, and
"Mmm......"
he grumbled like he wanted more.
"Goddamn it, you asleep or not?
If not, get off me."
Of course, no comprehension.
"......Tch."
No choice. I started again.
Ah... this is exactly why
I hate kids.
Hated them when I was one,
hated nursing twins like him.
'Cause lately,
looking at him like this...
stirred up useless emotions.
Two days passed.
How'd I know in this lightless hell?
"Hey, chow time."
The guards' shift patterns.
Skinny guy yesterday, this one today.
The prison was huge, so plenty of guards,
but these two alternated feeding us three squares in our area.
Skinny was mute—no chat.
This guy? Motor mouth.
The one who'd blabbed my execution date with glee.
Clank.
The usual two hard loaves rolled in.
I tossed both to Noy,
"Hold up, one question."
"......What."
I grabbed the guy before he could leave.
"I get I'm the ringleader, so off with my head.
But what about the powderheads?"
He snorted at my question.
"What do you think? Same deal. Death."
"Ah, cool."
"Right after you got nabbed, the kingdom launched a full purge on Paradise Powder."
He slung his club over his shoulder and yapped excitedly.
"Pulled damn near every guard, combed the slums top to bottom.
Anyone with glazed eyes, powder stink,
even a whiff of suspicion..."
Throat-slash gesture.
"On-the-spot executions. Wiped 'em all."
"Oof, mass graves galore."
"Damn right. Useless trash—no point feeding 'em or warehousing 'em here.
Clean sweep."
Kingdom-wide purge, mass summary executions.
What a massive, brutal scale.
I had no beef with offing criminals, honestly.
Agreed with it, even.
Back in my past life, every time I'd see news about some killer or scammer getting life,
I'd think, just execute 'em—why waste tax money?
But here? Were they really only nabbing perps?
Some bought the powder willingly,
some got duped,
some force-fed.
They could've sorted victims from villains with a closer look.
But no—anything remotely dosed got the axe.
So if some noble lady got hooked,
or a rich merchant's kid was glazed-eyed,
you think they'd get the same treatment?
Yeah, birth's the real jackpot.
"What about her, then?"
I pointed at Noy munching behind me.
"Oh, that runt?"
The guard shrugged it off.
"Eh, she'll croak with you tomorrow."
"Hm, right. She's not even ten."
Fifteen, actually.
"Younger ones bit it too, if they were powdered up."
And he cackled,
"All 'cause you spread it, huh?
You especially—hell's guaranteed, even postmortem. Heh heh..."
Then he finally fucked off after that extra jab.
True to form for a motormouth.
If I could take one more bastard down before dying,
I'd rip out his vocal cords and stuff 'em with black bread.
"......So that's the deal."
I turned to Noy.
Innocent face, licking bread crumbs.
"Hear that? Both of us, tomorrow."
"Munch munch."
"Off to the afterlife hand in hand, nice and cozy."
No response. Food first.
One loaf gone, reaching for the next—
Snatch.
I yanked the bread from his hand.
"Enough. You'll get fat."
"Waaah... Gimme! Gimmeee!"
Noy pouted and lunged.
I pinned him with one hand on his forehead.
His flailing stubs were comical.
'......Sigh.'
I swallowed a sigh.
No helping it. Just in case, one in a million.
Maybe Sharl remembered my service,
or hated losing her toy,
and pulled strings.
But tomorrow was the day.
No moves? Safer to assume.
Her old man's running the show—no room for the daughter anyway.
So,
I shoved Noy aside and stared into a corner.
Into pitch-black darkness untouched by light.
"Tonight."
"Jailbreak's the only way."
Operation name:
Hansel and Gretel.
(Not motel.)