Chapter 521: City of Lamentation (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 521: City of Lamentation (2)
The border between Romania and Bulgaria.
The number of soldiers guarding it was remarkably small.
With limited manpower, it felt like they had left the absolute bare minimum.
Entering the country was easy.
This was because the Orthodox Church's volunteer group had been scheduled to arrive for some time.
Even if it hadn't been scheduled, they would have had to welcome us with open arms.
The food and daily necessities brought by the volunteer group would make life more comfortable for at least some of their people.
The highest-ranking soldier approached Michael and expressed his gratitude.
“We thank the volunteer group for your hard work.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“I hope you have a comfortable… no, a safe stay.”
The man trailed off after saying "comfortable," then changed his words with a bitter smile.
His expression held a great deal of emotion.
It was a mix of regret and sorrow, as if he couldn't even offer the empty courtesy of wishing us a comfortable stay.
“Let them pass!”
The soldiers blocking the path stepped aside, and a barricade with rusted wheels that barely turned was laboriously moved.
At last, the road was open.
We drove for about two hours along the broken, shattered road.
Finally, the shape of a city began to appear in the distance.
A new country, a new city.
What kind of scenery and atmosphere would a city in this country have?
…But that anticipation was short-lived.
I, along with everyone else, realized it.
The only atmosphere flowing through this city was one of lamentation and despair.
* * *
A clear sky.
Beneath it, the city's atmosphere was endlessly dark.
Desolate roads.
Broken buildings.
And citizens walking between them with listless steps.
A fountain in the middle of the city, once presumed to be beautiful, now half-destroyed and still.
Kim Do-jin got off the bus there and took a deep breath.
And he smelled a very familiar, nostalgic scent.
‘The smell of poverty.’
The very same smell from the orphanage when I was very young.
It was during a particularly difficult time.
A time when people could barely take care of their own families, so interest and donations for the orphanage had all but vanished.
At its worst, we couldn't even eat one full meal a day.
The children would whine about being hungry every day, and the orphanage staff were busy trying to soothe them.
Some of the kids, unable to bear the hunger, tried to steal from supermarkets or bakeries, only to get caught, beaten soundly by the owner, and handed over to the police.
Hearing the news, the director would come rushing over in a panic. After scolding them sternly, he would sit alone in his office late at night, wiping away his tears.
It was a time when things got so bad that we couldn't even dream of the future; we had to worry about our next meal.
The thick smell hanging over the city was similar to the one from back then.
No.
“…It’s worse.”
The smell of this city was even more intense than that of the worst moment of his life.
So much so that when he recalled that time, he felt an unconscious urge to burst into tears.
Was that why?
“I miss our director.”
He suddenly felt a pang of longing.
The man who had carefully given names to the abandoned children at the orphanage and raised them like his own.
He remembered the time he'd defiantly gone to steal from a supermarket, not wanting to see his younger siblings and friends starve anymore. He'd been caught, beaten half to death, and was sitting forlornly on a chair at the police station when the director came running, patted his back, and sternly scolded him, asking why he'd done it.
How his heart had ached when, having woken up late at night needing to use the bathroom, he'd accidentally seen the director crying.
It was probably then.
That he had hardened his heart and started to become mature.
He had started acting as the leader of the children to ease the director's pain and exhaustion, even if just a little.
He had done his best to help him back then, but a sense of regret still lingered in a corner of his heart.
“It would have been nice if he had stayed a little longer.”
Around the time he entered the Hunter industry and finally started making money.
The director passed away.
It was cancer.
By the time he went to the hospital for feeling unwell, the cancer cells had already spread throughout his body, and it was too late to do anything.
It was to be expected.
He was the kind of person who, whenever he got money, tried to feed the children one more bite.
He must have considered going to the hospital for his own pain a luxury.
That's why, whenever he was enjoying everything and feeling happy, he would sometimes feel a pang of regret.
If only he had held on a little longer.
If he had lived longer, he could have let him experience the same happiness he was enjoying now.
He was lost in these sorrowful thoughts, his head bowed low.
Han Ju-yeon, who had gotten off the bus behind him, asked.
“Is something wrong?”
Her tone was filled with concern.
Shaken from his thoughts, Kim Do-jin forced a smile and shook his head.
“It’s nothing.”
Right.
It was nothing important.
It had been incredibly difficult back then, but now it was merely a part of the past.
The director, who had been in such a hurry to leave for heaven, was surely looking down on him and smiling.
He was someone who prioritized the happiness of the orphanage children above all else, so I had no doubt that was the case.
“Anyway… the state of this city is truly tragic.”
“It is.”
“I heard the situation was bad, but I didn’t know it would be this severe.”
She was right.
Perhaps because it was a provincial city near the Romanian border, its condition was the absolute worst.
The entire city was gripped by famine.
Parts of the city were destroyed, bearing the marks of various crimes, and among the stick-thin citizens, I could spot adults and children eyeing us covetously.
They were probably planning to try their hand at robbery or pickpocketing.
“The help from a volunteer group won't be nearly enough.”
“I suppose so.”
The Orthodox Church's volunteer group had arrived in Romania with a considerable amount of supplies.
But even that was woefully insufficient.
If distributed evenly among the starving citizens, it wouldn't even last a month.
Before that, there would be countless people who had their share of food stolen by robbers.
In the end, there was only one way to save them.
To solve the fundamental problem.
The best way to do that would be to reclaim the Blood Sanctuary and return it to them.
Lifting his head to look into the distance, he could see a red barrier forming a circle under the clear sky.
Just looking at it made him feel as if he could smell the thick scent of blood.
* * *
The border city of Baia Mare.
Having arrived there, the Orthodox Church's volunteer group set up a relief center in a part of the lamentation-filled city.
“We will not distribute food to those who do not line up properly.”
“Everyone is struggling, so please maintain order.”
They distributed the food they brought to the citizens.
“Where does it hurt?”
“My leg… my leg hurts so much.”
“I feel like my head is going to split open, Father…”
And extended a healing hand to the sick.
Watching them, even I, who doesn't believe in the existence of God, found myself nodding naturally.
I could see why they had established themselves as the world's most prosperous religion.
This, I thought, is what a true religion looks like.
“Brother, we need to move some supplies. Could you help us?”
“Of course.”
“Leave the heavy lifting to us!”
The raid team hidden within the volunteer group also did their best to help.
Even if we had to leave eventually, it was only right to fulfill our duties as human beings until then.
“Thank you so much, thank you…!”
“Thanks to all of you, I’ve eaten a proper meal for the first time in a long while!”
“It doesn’t hurt anymore, thank you!”
Thanks to the volunteer group's devoted relief efforts, a ray of hope seemed to shine upon the city.
But where there is light, darkness always follows.
“Kekeke, take it all!”
“Kill anyone who resists!”
Bandits, drawn by the smell of food wafting from a city that should have been filled only with despair, charged in.
However, not a single one succeeded in stealing the food.
Those who blocked them were none other than the elite Holy Knights of the Orthodox Church.
It was impossible for these people, who until recently were just ordinary citizens or Awakened Beings, to break through them.
Blocked by sturdy shields, they barely escaped with their lives, thanks to the knights' mercy.
An incredibly lenient punishment.
But no one could criticize their actions.
Because they weren't just any bandits.
They were people who had become bandits to survive, on the verge of starving to death.
Stealing from others to survive was certainly a condemnable act, but it was a gray area when it came to mercilessly taking their lives.
Besides, weren't these the people who went around bestowing God's mercy?
“Kuaargh!”
“P-please spare me!”
“I only did it because I was hungry! Please, just this once…!”
After repelling the bandit groups that swarmed in almost daily, I counted on my fingers.
“Is this the sixth time?”
The volunteer group had only been in this city for three days.
In those three days, bandit groups had attempted to plunder six times.
It meant that the number of bandits in this country had increased that much, but...
“Still, something feels off.”
Every time an attack occurred, the feeling that something was strange kept crossing my mind.
At first, it was bandits based not far from the city.
Then, from the second day, even bandits from half a day's or a full day's journey away started showing up.
It was as if someone was spreading the information, starting from nearby and moving farther out.
“…Maybe that’s really what’s happening.”
Perhaps someone really is passing along information.
Telling them to steal our food.
That if they did, they wouldn't have to starve for a while.
It was a plausible scenario.
However, one question remained.
“But why?”
For what reason would someone give information about the food to bandits?
To receive a portion of the food as a finder's fee if they succeeded?
I doubt it.
That could be a reason, but it didn't seem like it would be just for that.
Then what could it be?
Something that would give the informant a huge advantage.
Then, a very bad thought suddenly crossed my mind.
“What if someone were to steal the food that the bandits stole?”
Currently, the food belongs to the Orthodox Church's volunteer group.
Mess with them, and the Holy Knights and Priests from the Orthodox Church headquarters will come for you.
But what if you were to steal the food that was stolen by bandits who couldn't overcome their hunger?
You could get the food and also avoid being pursued by the Orthodox Church's volunteer group, couldn't you?
If this hypothesis is correct, there's only one being in this country capable of such a thing.
“The Apostle of the Seven Deadly Sins.”
The Apostle of the Seven Deadly Sins and his followers, who use the Blood Sanctuary as their hideout.
What if their access isn't as free as we think, and their supply chain isn't stable?
That would be reason enough to covet the relief supplies from the Orthodox Church that just happened to arrive.
All that's left is to prove this hypothesis…
And that probably won't be too difficult either.
“It’s time to catch the big fish.”
It's time to reel in the bait I laid out before.