Chapter 700.1: The Rise
Port Gallon.
The slums near the Governor’s Manor.
On the open ground where the poor once hung their laundry, a dense black mass of people was now packed together.
Although it was called a place for drying clothes, what hung from the hemp ropes were mostly rags like old cleaning cloths, barely enough to cover one’s modesty.
With low literacy rates, no access to contraception, and no other forms of entertainment, people here passed the time by making babies, to the point where there were more people than clothes.
Some of the most destitute survivors even had an entire family share a single robe, whoever needed to go out wore it.
That was why, when Axin stood in the very center of the crowd wearing a clean striped shirt and coarse canvas trousers, both his bearing and appearance looked utterly out of place among the others in their old clothes, or even wrapped in bed sheets.
In the end, amid a bout of shoving, an elderly man with a face full of deep wrinkles and a sallow complexion was pushed forward.
His name was Jai. He was a Ratfolk, not yet 60 years old, yet looked as though he were already half-buried.
Then again, in the slums of Port Gallon, reaching 60 truly counted as old age. Most people had already lived out their entire lives before turning 40.
Everyone on the street agreed that since Axin was a Ratfolk child, it was most appropriate for a Ratfolk elder to step forward and educate him.
They needed answers to three things.
First, what exactly had those men clad in iron said to him that day?
Second, where had the money come from for the outfit he was wearing?
Third, and also the most important, what exactly did he mean by making them move?
The old man pushed to the front wore a hint of helplessness on his face, but he also knew he was the most suitable person for this.
He cleared his throat and looked solemnly at the young man before him. “Axin, you’re a good child. I watched you grow up. When you were no bigger than a coconut shell, I even held you in my arms.”
Axin nodded. “I remember, Grandpa Jai.”
A trace of relief appeared on the old man’s face, but the interwoven wrinkles soon tightened again in seriousness. “We all know you’re an honest, well-behaved child. You and your family are good people on this street. So you’re standing on our side, aren’t you?”
“Of course.” Axin nodded again, glanced at Grandpa Jai, then at the neighbors around them, and continued slowly, “I can swear to my gods that more than anyone else, I want everyone to live a good life.”
The moment his words fell, an indignant shout erupted from nearby.
“Then what do you mean by making us move?!”
That shout instantly ignited the crowd’s emotions. Accusations flew one after another, drowning out the two standing in the middle.
“That’s right! What do you mean?!”
“This is our home! We’re not going anywhere!”
“How much did they pay you?!”
“So that’s where those clothes came from!”
“Pah! Traitor!”
“I knew none of these rats were any good!”
“Quiet, everyone, please, let me talk to the boy,” Jai pleaded, raising his hand to calm them, but all he received was a spray of spittle like rain.
No one paid him any attention. After all, ratfolk were nothing but lowly creatures. They looked human, but their hearts were like sewer rats. The people here despised them from the bottom of their hearts.
Just as the wolf clans produced the fiercest warriors, the ratfolk produced prostitutes, pickpockets, thieves, and swindlers.
Those scum were only a hair’s breadth above the Moonfolk, who had been stripped of all property, power, and even personal freedom. No one doubted that the next race to be reduced to slavery would be those detestable rats.
Allowing such inferior beings to live under the Xilande Empire’s prosperity was an insult!
Without them, everything would be better!
Bathed in the crowd’s curses, Axin stared expressionlessly at the furious faces and suddenly felt like laughing.
His status was indeed low, but how much better were these people?
Even a noble wolf living in the hellhole was still just a garbage-eating dog. Even gentle sheep had produced ruthless criminals and bandits. Yet his old father, the man despised by everyone on this street, had lived his entire life honestly and diligently, offending no one, and teaching Axin and his siblings to be good, upright people so that they might be reborn into a better life next time.
By conscience, Axin had indeed lived honestly for 17 years, and had once planned to endure his entire life that way.
That was until the day before, when these people treated him like a sewer rat, shoving him out into the street just to test what those men in iron were and what their attitude might be.
In that moment, standing alone in the street, he came to hate that pathetic version of himself, and to hate the people who had made him live pathetically for all his years of existence.
So much so that when those men handed him the gun, he had wanted to drag out the ones who shoved him forward and shoot them on the spot.
But he didn’t.
It was not out of mercy.
He knew perfectly well who had given him the gun, or rather, who had given him the power of life and death.
If its owner could put the gun in his hands, they could just as easily take it back. To keep that power, he had to do everything he could to please them. When it was time to kill, he would not hesitate.
But now...
He had to get it done cleanly, at the lowest possible cost, before the 12 bullets in the pistol were spent.
Feeling the cold metal in his pocket, he forced himself to overcome the fear and the instincts carved into his humanity over 17 years.
Then, like the obedient, honest child he had always been, he nodded for the third time, and the last. “That’s right. I took the money. A huge sum, a sum you poor bastards can’t imagine in your lifetimes.”
The surroundings fell instantly silent. He could feel that the eyes on him now held not only anger, but also greed and longing.
It was like hyenas spotting a hare.
They only hated that the one who had taken the gun from the New Alliance wasn’t them. They wished they could rob him of every coin in his pocket.
Without pausing, Axin mustered all his strength to remain calm and spoke the words he had rehearsed all night. “They gave me 40,000. I bought myself a new set of clothes, real clothes. I also bought outfits for my older and younger brothers, my sisters, and my parents. After that, we plan to buy three pigs and some things to help with the household, so life can be a little more comfortable.”
A sturdily built man stepped forward, eyes locked on him. “Why did they give you money?”
Axin recognized him. His name was Vikram, a Wolffolk. He was supposedly a former soldier, though only he knew whether that was true. Axin knew him as a notorious thug on this street, someone who often bullied his brothers and his honest, hard-working father.
Axin was well aware that the man hadn’t grabbed the money from his pocket not because he feared Axin, but because he feared the men of iron he believed were backing him.
And because of that, he absolutely could not lose their support.
“I sold my house to them,” Axin said flatly, imagining the iron men standing behind him, and continued slowly. “That house is theirs now. Whether they blow it up or use it as a shooting target is their business.”
An uproar erupted, including from Vikram himself. Shock and disbelief spread across countless faces.
“You can’t do that!”
“That’s not just your family’s house, it’s part of this street!”
“That’s right!”
At the very least, there should have been a share of that huge sum for them.
Vikram narrowed his eyes and threatened, “Kid, I live on the street next to yours! If a shell lands on my place, ”
“Then go talk to them! Talk to the iron men!” Axin suddenly exploded, roaring as he cut through the chatter.
No one expected the usually meek, low-key young man to erupt like that. The crowd fell silent in an instant.
Even Vikram, the street’s infamous thug, stared at him in shock, as if he were looking at a madman. But even so, the man only stared. Axin knew he wouldn’t dare touch him.
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