Chapter 204
Chapter 204
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 204
Chapter Title: The Revolution Ignites
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Sarucho made a separate appointment with Dain.
Because he couldn't be sure, but the Tooth agents might have grown suspicious about the attack on him.
Sarucho believed he needed to act with caution, and Dain agreed.
The two met again in the vagrant village on the outskirts of the city.
The group called wanderers or vagrants had existed for a very long time, and some even said that all current races had lived as vagrants after the ancient civilization.
Regardless, vagrants were always seen as untouchables, considered a danger to society, and routinely suppressed.
Vagrants mainly earned money by selling crafts or fortune-telling through superstitions, or by taking on one-off manual labor jobs.
Amid the haphazardly built shacks of wooden planks, Sarucho spoke.
"Do you live here?"
"Yeah."
Dain raised his right hand.
"With my hand like this, no place would take me anymore, so I couldn't afford the rent."
"We have the funds to arrange a residence in Shubanel."
"I didn't call you here for that kind of help."
Sarucho fell silent, embarrassed.
Dain led Sarucho into his shabby hut.
It was questionable whether it could even be called a house. It shared only a thin plank wall with the next door, and there was no distinction between the ceiling and the roof. The floor was exposed damp earth from yesterday's rain.
"You said you wanted to help the revolutionaries? Properly this time?"
"...Yes."
"Do you have a plan?"
Sarucho said,
"Besides you, Dain, how many other revolutionaries are there inside the city right now?"
Dain lightly tapped the table with nails hammered into each leg.
"Quiet. I can't tell you until I can fully trust you."
"...Understood."
As Sarucho looked somewhat disappointed, Dain said,
"I'll just say the situation isn't good. We're rebuilding the revolutionary network. The people previously involved are being watched by the Teeth, so we can't approach them easily. I believe they'll join the revolutionaries someday... but most are scared."
"But there are people like you, Dain."
"...Yeah."
Sarucho said,
"I know some newspaper reporters. Ones who come and go from the temple, and some are close to me."
"They've written articles about you too?"
"The church occasionally receives oracles from the Wrathful One. As many reporters come as to the city hall."
"So?"
Sarucho said,
"I'll tell them to write the truth."
"The truth?"
"That the revolutionaries aren't traitors, just factory workers among us..."
Dain snorted.
"Do you think any of those reporters would care about that? Think they'd risk their lives for it?"
Sarucho, who had been keeping his mouth shut tightly, said,
"...We could blackmail them."
"What?"
"It varies by newspaper, but for morning editions, orders go to the print shops at dawn. There aren't that many people at those print shops. It's not impossible to swap in one article."
"You think the police will just sit by?"
As Sarucho reached into his pocket, Dain tensed up briefly.
What Sarucho pulled out was a crumpled piece of paper.
Sarucho unfolded the paper as he spoke.
On the paper was a map of Shubanel, marked with numbers seemingly noted by Sarucho himself and routes of movement.
"The police night patrol routes are fixed and mostly consistent. Not all print shops, but some on the city outskirts are hardly on their routes. We have to watch for Tooth agents, but according to our High Priest, Shubanel is now considered 'cleansed,' so most have pulled out. I could do it alone."
Dain stared at Sarucho.
"You were serious about doing it?"
"Yes."
Dain examined Sarucho's map slowly while listening to his explanation.
It wasn't a pie-in-the-sky plan fueled by empty passion.
The map showed cold, calculated precision. It had potential.
Dain shook her head.
"No."
"It won't work?"
"Even if it succeeds, we don't know how the citizens will respond. Information control would kick in immediately."
As Sarucho lowered his head, Dain said,
"...But if we add it to another plan, it could be useful."
"Another plan?"
"Successful cases so far have generally involved the empire's influence. The most famous is the Rubeil labor camp revolt, which had external imperial supporters."
Sarucho said,
"...I'd prefer not to borrow their hands if possible."
"Me too. Relying on outside power dilutes the revolution's purity. The more we do, the more people resist. That would reduce those joining the revolution... What I mean is, alongside external aid, the revolutionaries themselves must show deep interest in these matters and be ready to jump in anytime."
"Inside and outside, both sides."
Dain nodded.
"Yes. For that, we need an environment where people can sympathize. Just revealing the truth to people won't move them. They need to be ready to accept it."
"You mean the network you mentioned earlier."
"Right."
"How do we... do that?"
Dain said,
"...That's the problem. We have to persuade one by one, without getting caught by those opposing us over a long time... We've already failed once, and we might fail again. A second failure could be the end."
"... ."
"Can you do it? It'll be grueling. You've already taken my bullet. I don't think that's enough to atone... but you don't have to force yourself into this. It might even be a hindrance."
Sarucho raised his head.
"Dain. A year ago, I never imagined I'd be having this conversation. But here I am. I thought about what changed me."
"Garil's death changed you? Pity? Or because you know a truth others don't?"
"All of that seems right. But pity and truth don't explain everything."
"What?"
Sarucho smiled awkwardly.
"I don't know exactly. But that's why I want to jump into this. If you and the revolutionary comrades agree."
Dain nodded slightly.
Dain could understand Sarucho's words.
She herself didn't fully know why she was pushing this so far.
This offered no immediate help for her survival, nor any guarantee of future happiness. It was no different from gamblers rolling dice.
Dain sometimes saw all this as a struggle toward self-destruction, suicide even, but like Sarucho said, there was something that couldn't be explained that way.
"Alright. Follow me, comrade."
While Dain rallied the workers, Sarucho did what he could.
He strengthened personal ties with newspaper reporters and, at the same time, drew out stories about crimes occurring inside Shubanel that were continually ignored.
At first, they were awkward or embarrassed about such talk, but in private settings with good food filling their bellies and heavy drinking, they spilled their true thoughts without filter.
In the process, Sarucho learned about criminal acts committed by nobles and factory owners.
Sarucho discovered that real estate prices inside Shubanel were closely tied to factory owners and usurers.
One reporter, red-nosed from heavy drinking, said,
"Priest, listen closely. Managing workers' discontent is easy. First, you grant some of their demands. Reduce work hours by an hour or so. But around the same time, nobles with properties raise rents. Living costs tighten, so they borrow from usurers. They can't repay? Then a few workers beg for raises due to debt. Factory owners puff up, saying they've already done everything asked. That's when workers beg to increase hours. Owners get mad about reversing course and make them work even more than before."
Sarucho said,
"No one... sees that as a problem?"
The reporter said,
"Everyone who matters knows. They don't call them slaves outright, but workers are no different. In some ways, worse than slaves. Slaves have a direct tie to their owner—kill the owner, it's done. But workers are entangled in the whole social system, so killing one doesn't end it. Think: one worker kills a factory owner. Does the factory vanish? Another buys it. That's it. Classes were shaky in the past, but modern ones are rock-solid. Not easily shaken."
These drinking sessions didn't just benefit Sarucho.
The next morning, reporters clutched pounding headaches, vaguely recalling what they'd said and heard the night before.
As they frequented city hall, dined with nobles, took bribes from factory owners, they remembered those words in flashes.
Some reporters, uncomfortable with Sarucho's interest in such topics, distanced themselves.
But others enjoyed his gatherings.
They pondered if those drink-fueled words were truly what they wanted to say, articles they wished to write but hadn't.
Meanwhile, Sarucho personally investigated how capitalists pressured workers and accumulated illegal, unethical assets.
This data and information was passed to Dain, who used it to rally workers.
Sarucho's stories weren't mere rumors but backed by clear evidence, persuading Dain's 'comrades' and forcing them to confront the injustices inherent in the social structure—not personal failings—along with anxieties and pains about a vague future.
Dain's challenge was suppressing and hiding that rising inner flame.
People now knew the injustices, why they couldn't live happily, how Yumis and Mumis weren't so different, how absurd it was to suffer for ancestors' defeats.
Print shop workers ran machines secretly to print pamphlets, newsboy kids distributed them while selling papers, carpenters made picket signs, textile factories smuggled extra cloth, dye factories carried dyes.
But Dain was firm. We can't move yet.
Comrades wanted action, but for a greater blaze, they had to wait.
Sarucho agreed.
There was another issue.
Dain judged gathering previous revolutionaries into one group risky, so planned individuals forming factions, subdividing further inside.
This point organization meant even revolutionaries didn't know the exact number of true comrades.
Only on execution day, when maximum numbers revealed themselves, would the true size show.
The execution day wasn't a special event like before.
Instead, they targeted an ordinary day when police, Teeth, and soldiers wouldn't be alert.
The point-organized revolutionaries cautiously shared the date.
Sarucho informed Dain via the central temple that the date hadn't miraculously leaked.
Dain said anxiously,
"We might have fewer than the first protest."
"Comrade, don't worry. If we show those regretting it that they can rise again, even if this protest fails, it gives hope for the next. That's meaningful enough."
Dain agreed.
Execution day morning.
Aiming for a street protest like before, Sarucho stood on the road.
Sarucho wore priest robes and held the largest picket he could carry.
『All Races Are Equal.』
It was a picket with egalitarian banner scrawled boldly.
This protest targeted workers' rights and egalitarianism as each saw it, planning a peaceful street march like before.
Sarucho staked his priesthood, donning the robes.
To show the protesters weren't heretics.
Crucially, Sarucho hadn't found direct evidence that the Wrathful One opposed egalitarianism.
'Maybe our voice is too small, so the Wrathful One hasn't noticed yet.'
Almost simultaneously, Dain appeared with her comrades.
『The Revolution Does Not End.』
『Is the Tail a Privilege?』
『Remember the Blood of Unification Day.』
People with pickets and bands bearing those slogans appeared.
Dain said,
"Is this it for now?"
"Let's wait a bit more."
Then a familiar comrade ran up to Dain.
"Comrade Dain!"
"What is it?"
"People got the location wrong and already gathered at the square."
"What? The square will be crowded... Call them here first."
"No. You need to come see."
Urged on, Dain and Sarucho exchanged glances and hurried over.
People had gathered in the square.
As many as on Unification Day.
Dain said suspiciously,
"What? What's going on?"
"Comrade Dain, get a grip. All these people were waiting for you. Too many to gather at the alley."
As Dain and her group approached, the murmuring crowd spotted her and cheered lightly.
Dain, flushed, walked to the center of the square.
Everyone had a pamphlet tucked in their breast pocket.
All were revolutionary comrades.
Someone muttered,
"Over 5,000 for sure."
"5,000? Joke? Half the square filled is 10,000."
Sarucho said worriedly,
"Didn't expect this many... What do we do, comrade?"
"First, good. We move to city hall square as planned. Calm the crowd first."
After brief chaos, Dain steadied her gaze.
Dain climbed the square platform and shouted,
"Worker comrades! Glad to see you. I'm Dain. Lost my hand in the factory, got kicked out with no place taking me. Not all know me, but even if not me, there's one or two like me. In that, we're all comrades."
Dain preached the rights workers deserved, how all stemmed from Yumi-Mumi nobleism, how the nation's power holders had no will to fix such absurd systems.
While Dain spoke, all held their breath; when she finished, all shouted agreement.
Dain's speech soon turned to the bloody suppression on Unification Day.
"That day, we failed. Lost countless comrades, me too. It was hidden; city hall called them traitors, evil ones clinging to the empire. But we know the truth."
Dain stomped.
"Yes. We know the truth. They were our friends, colleagues, husbands and wives, children and parents. But they returned as mere bloodstains, their honor shattered. We knew the truth yet lived silently."
Sarucho saw people shedding tears here and there, or clenching fists glaring at Dain. Not at her, of course. At soldiers who shot unarmed protesters, or their past selves enduring unspeakable pain in silence.
"But no more. We won't be silent. We'll reveal this to all."
As Dain ended her speech, extra editions were distributed.
As Sarucho planned, articles printed at newspaper presses.
The front page covered the Unification Day protest and its truth.
Several police stood at a distance but couldn't approach.
They whispered, watching, unsure what to do.
When Dain proposed moving from central square to city hall square, all agreed.
Descending the platform, Dain slapped Sarucho's arm.
"You lead the chant."
"Me... speak?"
"Your voice is loud. Do it."
Sarucho hesitated.
"H-how do I say it."
"You're our comrade too. Say what needs saying."
"A-alright."
Sarucho nodded.
Sarucho rolled up his sleeves and stepped forward.
Some murmured seeing the robed priest, but trusted him beside Dain.
Sarucho shouted loudly,
"All people are equal!"
The call was echoed back.
"All people are equal!"
Sarucho experienced something new.
In this crowd, he wasn't alone.
This wasn't just his words.
It was everyone's.
Sarucho led the chant resonantly,
"The tail is not a right!"
"The tail is not a right!"
Windows on second and third floors opened, looking down.
People whispered, gestured for household members to see the protesters.
Someone waved a pamphlet.
Sarucho recognized it as the revolutionaries' logic booklet.
Soon, a few burst out from houses.
"Even if we all die!"
"Even if we all die!"
Sarucho shouted till his throat tore.
Tears welled in his furrowed face.
"The revolution... does not end!"
"The revolution!"
The people roared in fury.
"Does not end!"