Chapter 50
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 50
Chapter Title: Identity Laundering
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Kain's warning hadn't been an empty threat.
The more we walked through the port district, the stickier the stares boring into our backs became.
Even people passing by normally would stop in their tracks and openly gawk at our group.
"......"
We just kept our heads down as much as possible and quickened our pace.
Heading for the "slightly safer spot" the old man Kain had mentioned, sticking to the most deserted paths we could find.
.....
Only after ducking into a shadowed corner under a crumbling wall, away from the crowds, did we finally catch our breath.
"Alright, now comes the important part."
Kain swept his gaze around the area, then spoke with a serious expression.
"This is the port city of Nahark in the Kingdom of Ruben."
"And as you probably saw on the way here..."
He pointed a thumb over his shoulder at the harbor behind him.
"The Kingdom of Ruben is the only place where slavery is legal."
He brought up that bizarre scene we'd witnessed the moment we set foot in the port.
Slaves, huh.
After five years scraping by as a slum rat and fifteen more as a Kaintrea dog,
I'd seen plenty of filth, wanted and unwanted.
Every kind of wretched sight imaginable.
But a place that openly slapped the label "slave" on people? That was a first.
Suddenly, a memory from long ago flashed by.
[They said they'd let it slide if we handed over you and Beat's twins...]
Jerome, the master of the South Gate Tavern—long dead now.
And human trafficking.
Back then, I'd just figured they'd end up sold off somewhere and suffer hell.
Looks like their final destination was right here, the Western Continent.
I knew it happened under the table even on the Central Continent.
But it was always illegal there.
If you got caught, the guards would haul you off—or at least, it was a crime they'd hush up on the surface.
Here, though? It was legal.
They branded your back in broad daylight and whipped you like it was nothing.
As I was mulling over that cultural gap,
"Here, no identification means you're treated as a potential slave right away."
Kain's words hit my ear.
He glanced at me and asked,
"Normally, what status do you have without ID?"
"Slum rat. What else?"
"Right. And what about slum rats?"
"No protection under the law."
He was firing off obvious questions like some kid's riddle.
I answered half-heartedly, and Kain nodded.
"Exactly. But here, it's an even bigger problem."
He held up one finger.
"Whether someone beats you to death on the street or kidnaps you and slaps a collar on you."
"......?"
"No one gives a damn. It's not illegal."
"Even if the one doing it is just a commoner."
Ah. Now I got it.
On the Central Continent, unless you were nobility yourself, killing or abducting a slum rat—even one—caused a fuss.
Sure, slum rats beating each other to death was everyday stuff,
but that was just crime-ridden turf, outlaws living outside the law. No one cared.
But in the Kingdom of Ruben?
A commoner killing a slum rat? Not illegal.
Turning one into a slave on a whim? Not illegal either.
No ID? You're just livestock without an owner.
First come, first served. Brand 'em, and they're yours.
"Potential slave" fit perfectly.
"That's why there are no slums in the Kingdom of Ruben."
"......Why?"
"They've all been enslaved or fled."
Kain gazed at the sky, especially the distant horizon, muttering bitterly.
"Even if they luckily escape the kingdom, they hide out in some mountain village, scraping by."
"But even that's not safe."
"Monsters could attack anytime, and if hunters find the village, they're dragged back as slaves."
For the first time, I realized slums had their own hierarchy.
No matter how shitty life in the gutters was, living inside kingdom borders was better.
Out there, living on edge every day?
Even if luck kept you alive, you'd never live out your full lifespan. You'd croak early.
The Western Continent was one wild-ass place.
No paradise for fugitives, huh?
Made me wonder if we'd come to the wrong damn spot.
Shit, should I have thought this through more?
"So, for us three."
Excluding the old man Kain, the trio with no ID: invincible vagrants.
"To avoid becoming Slave Nos. 1, 2, and 3, do we crawl into the mountains too?"
"Or can we just act like we have one and keep quiet?"
"Impossible."
Kain shook his head.
"Why? If we stay quiet and keep our mouths shut..."
"It's not about keeping quiet. It's that your status is visible."
Visible status?
What the hell kind of nonsense was that?
Was he saying my face screamed "slum rat"?
"Think back. From the ship to here... what did the people you saw look like?"
I racked my brain.
Slaves in ragged clothes with backs exposed, red brands glaring as whips cracked down.
The rough-faced overseers watching them.
And the merchants strutting about, mercenaries, ordinary passersby.
"......?"
Come to think of it, they all had something in common.
Everyone except the slaves.
"Arms......"
Every single one had something wrapped around their arms.
A white cloth.
"Remember now?"
Kain tapped his forearm.
"In the Kingdom of Ruben, that's your ID."
"......That white cloth?"
"Yeah. They call it a 'status band'."
He explained matter-of-factly.
"This kingdom's simple. They divide people into two types."
He held up two fingers.
"Those with a band on their arm, and branded livestock on their backs."
"......"
"Slaves are legally required to wear backless clothes by law."
"To show off their brands and prove they're slaves to everyone."
He leaned against the wall, staring straight at me.
"Conversely, anyone commoner or higher must wear an official status band from the bureau."
"So, what about someone who's not a slave and has no band?"
"What do you think?"
Kain gave a wry smile.
"Meat without an owner."
Ah. Fuck.
I got it. I understood.
Why we'd gotten those sticky stares the second we stepped off the ship.
Why passersby stopped to size us up.
Our backs weren't exposed, but no bands on our arms either.
In this district, we were unverified humans—prime event loot for whoever grabbed us first.
"That's why I told you to keep your eyes down and walk."
"Better late than never."
"Fuck, why didn't you say that shit sooner......?"
Kain's eyebrow twitched.
He glared at me like he was about to throw a punch, face screaming murder.
"Sooner?"
He ground his teeth.
"Forgot you were out cold like a corpse for two weeks?"
"......Ah."
"I planned to explain everything before we arrived, but who was it that pulled some crazy stunt and only woke up this morning?"
Uh,
Nothing to say to that.
"By the way, I already explained it all to Baekrin."
Baekrin nodding along.
No wonder the bitch who'd been screeching for meat every chance on the ship was so meek once we landed.
She knew mouthing off meant slave lottery.
"Anyway, before more trouble hits, we head straight to the bureau."
"Bureau? This kingdom's?"
"Yeah. That's where we get the status bands."
Kain dug into his pocket and pulled out his own ID.
No longer a knight—now a commoner from the Kingdom of Bellua.
"I just flash this and get mine reissued, but..."
He glanced at the three of us.
And let out a deep sigh.
"You three have to buy yours."
"......Buy?"
"Yeah. And it'll cost a fortune."
Wait, buy what?
......Status?
"So... you can buy ID even without one?"
"Yeah, white commoner bands only."
"Pay up, no questions asked."
My heart pounded.
Unthinkable on the Central Continent.
There, bloodline was everything.
Born a slum rat, die a slum rat.
Unless you lucked out like Kain and busted your ass to earn senior knight rank,
lowborn stuck with you till the grave.
Here? Pay money, and they peel it off?
Identity laundering, basically???
"Of course, it's a bootleg status valid only in the Western Continent...
But since you're never going back Central, doesn't matter."
Kain gave a wry smile.
True enough.
Going back meant my head on a pike,
we came here to rot for life, right?
And commoner status, no less.
After twenty years as a slum rat vagrant.....
From what I'd heard so far, I thought this uncivilized world was just more upgraded barbarism.
Who knew it was land of opportunity?
[Welcome to the Western Continent.]
[Everything but breathing costs money here. Keep that in mind.]
This place really ran on cash.
......Those guys were actually being nice?
I swallowed hard.
"How much?"
I asked lightly.
Noy and I were dirt-poor beggars,
but Baekrin had about 50 gold,
and Kain had shelled out 2 gold casually to those guys earlier, so we weren't desperate.
Guy farted around in Kaintrea, got paid fat salaries.
Even blowing it on booze and whores,
he had to have some stash...
"......30 gold each."
"......What?"
Thought I misheard.
"30 gold. Per commoner band."
"......"
3 million won? My brain blanked.
No matter how you spun it as laundering value.
Lifetime status for a scrap of cloth on your arm? 30 gold? Per person?
"Those thieving bastard sons of bitches."
I spat curses and turned.
Baekrin stood there with a shit-eating grimace.
Of course she'd heard.
We needed three bands total.
Me, Baekrin, Noy.
90 gold.
The insane sum choked me.
I stared at the old man beside me, hands trembling.
Last lifeline. Only hope.
"Old man... no, Sir Kain."
I plastered on the most servile, polite face imaginable.
"You got money... right? Lend us some."
"......"
"Excommunicated or not, you were a senior knight.
You must've saved something over the years."
And not just any senior— the old man toyed with three or four others at once,
Kaintrea's elite.
Sharls guard, after all.
Even if he blew it wildly,
severance had to be hefty...
But,
"......None."
Kain averted his eyes, murmuring low.
"None? Not a dime?"
"What's left in my pockets is under 10 gold."
10 gold. Not even close.
"What about severance? Bonus? Sharl wouldn't stiff you..."
"......I got it."
Kain nodded bitterly.
"150 gold, even. More than most knights' combined salaries. Lady Sharl hooked me up."
"Then! Where'd it all go?!"
"That money... I spent it all before boarding the ship."
I stared blankly.
150 gold... gone?
Did the old fart go nuts gambling?
"Where the hell...... on what."
My voice shook; Kain sighed deeply.
"Ship, food, supplies... that wasn't the big spend."
He paused, then met my eyes squarely.
"Almost all on potions."
"......Potions?"
"Yeah. Seven mid-grade ones."
Mid-grade potions.
Each easily 20 gold, price dictated by scarcity.
"Prices here are five times Central Continent."
"Consumables like potions especially rare."
Kain explained calmly.
"Dangerous place, needed spares,
planned to resell a few for profit.
Use that for your bands, settling funds..."
Perfect plan. Smart investment.
If the potions were still around.
"......"
I knew one went to Noy.
I thanked him myself, uncharacteristically.
And to me too.
"You looked like a corpse then.
Not breathing, heart about to stop."
No way this old man,
"Two bottles first time. Three when you collapsed again."
Dumped them all on me?
All six.
"No choice.
Middle of the ocean, can't fetch a priest or doctor."
He met my eyes,
cleared his throat awkwardly, embarrassed.
"I was the one teaching you aura too.
Couldn't just watch you die......"
[No point holding onto it uselessly. Use it when someone's hurt.]
Ah,
Far from useless.
Let me die if you were gonna.
That precious, expensive stuff,
[What a weird old man. Never slapped cheap salve on me when I was beat half-dead.]
Why.
Why do something you never did.
The guy who wouldn't waste cheap salve, why now.
His whole life savings,
everything for that busted arm.
Now he's got no arms, no retirement.
I wanted to chew him out for being a senile idiot,
"......"
But my throat tightened.
From the disgust surging up.
....