Chapter 70

It seems we can't enter the store.

Even if we force our way in, it might cause unnecessary commotion.

I took Zoey and turned to leave.

Well, my plan has failed, what should I do?

It doesn't seem like I can go to Alice's place for the time being, so maybe I should find a new place to explore.

While thinking this, I walked through the crowd.

"Hey, I didn't expect to meet you here."

"Huh?"

I heard a theatrical tone and turned to see where the voice came from.

There was Byron.

Byron came up to me and bowed deeply.

He didn't kneel because he understood that I was incognito—meaning I didn't want my true identity to be known.

"What are you doing here?"

"I was just having a business meeting nearby."

"I see."

I didn't ask what kind of business it was.

If he wanted to tell me, he would, and there might be things he doesn't want me to know.

"From the look of it, you seem to have some free time. Would you like me to show you around?"

"Sure... Do you know where the refugees are gathered?"

"Yes, I do."

"Take me there."

"Yes, sir."

Byron didn't ask why.

We've known each other for ten years, and this kind of thing doesn't surprise us anymore.

With Byron leading the way, I walked south with Zoey.

After passing several main streets, the scenery changed dramatically, becoming desolate.

If the previous area was the bright side of the city, this place was the dark side.

The air was heavy, and a gloomy atmosphere permeated the area.

Here and there, refugees sat on the ground, looking exhausted.

Seeing this, I frowned slightly.

Then, Byron started talking without being asked.

"Food is provided twice a day, mainly in the form of liquid meals."

"Ah, the refugees—especially the starving ones—have weak stomachs. I ordered them to do it this way."

"I see, that's impressive."

"...There are quite a few children."

"Yes..."

Byron looked at me with a questioning expression.

I didn't answer and continued to observe as I walked.

Some of the refugees looked at us suspiciously, but most were too weak to even have the energy to do so.

In the midst of this—

"Hey, hey, this is your last chance, you know?"

A voice, not from a refugee, but from someone energetic, caught my attention.

The voice was lively, but the emotion and nuance it conveyed were nerve-wracking and unpleasant.

I walked towards the voice and saw a man and his daughter, who appeared to be refugees, and a middle-aged man showing them some silver coins.

The man was showing a few silver coins.

"Ugh..."

"Think about it, it's 5 Reen. Sell your daughter to us for 5 Reen and lighten your load."

"But... "

"From now on, a child will only be a burden. It's smarter to take this 5 Reen and fill your stomach with something better."

"I... I understand..."

The father nodded, looking dejected.

The man smiled and handed the 5 Reen to the father, then tried to pull the daughter away, who was clinging to him in fear.

"No! Stop! Dad! Dad!!"

"---! No, I can't do it!"

The father's expression twisted as he clung to his daughter.

He tried to return the 5 Reen to the man—trafficker.

It's a tough situation, but...

"Hey, the deal is done, right? That's not fair."

"But... "

"If you really can't, you'll have to buy her back."

"I... I'll buy her back—"

"I'll sell her to you for 10 Reen."

"---What!?"

The father let out a cry that sounded like a scream.

"10 Reen, that's ridiculous!"

"It's my choice how much I sell her for. She's my property now."

"But!"

"Enough, give up. That's an order."

"Ugh..."

The father looked like he was about to cry—his daughter was already crying.

Held by the trafficker, she reached out to her father, crying and clinging to him.

This was too much for me.

I took a step forward.

"10 Reen, I'll buy her."

"Huh?"

The trafficker looked at me suspiciously.

"Who are you? I'm working here, don't interfere."

"It's a business deal, right? I'll pay 10 Reen. Give me the girl."

"...I said it's my choice how much I sell her for. For you—100 Reen."

My temple twitched.

But I suppressed my anger.

"Fine, 100 Reen."

I reached into my pocket—then remembered.

I don't have any money.

The emperor doesn't carry money.

Even when going incognito, the emperor doesn't carry cash.

It's a matter of principle and a kind of duty.

But that doesn't mean I don't have money.

In such cases—

"Here, please use this."

I thought Zoey would pull out a wallet, but Byron acted first.

Byron handed me a leather bag filled with silver coins.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it. It's an honor. I thank the gods for being here today."

"Alright—here."

I threw the leather bag at the trafficker.

Without counting, I knew it contained more than 100 Reen.

The trafficker, after a moment of surprise, caught the bag firmly.

After staring at the bag for a while, he threw it back at me.

"I've changed my mind. I won't sell to you."

"..."

My temple twitched again.

"Where are you from, which slave traders?"

"It's none of your business."

"Answer me."

"---!"

Under my intense gaze, the trafficker took a step back, intimidated.

"Hey, how about you?"

"What? You haven't bought anyone yet?"

"What are you waiting for?"

More of the trafficker's companions gathered around.

Each of them had a few children with them, all of whom were reluctant but already chained.

"He's causing trouble."

The first trafficker explained the situation to his companions.

"He looks like some rich kid, but he might get burned if he sticks his nose in."

One of the traffickers threw out a typical threat.

"Where are you from? Do you have a license?"

I asked, and the traffickers exchanged glances.

"Can't be helped, let's rough him up a bit."

"Right. Hey! Gather up!"

One of them shouted, and more traffickers gathered, saying, "What's going on?"

In the end, there were fifteen of them.

They quickly explained the situation to each other and prepared to attack me.

"..."

I silently drew Leviathan from my armlet.

As the traffickers attacked, I swung the blue-glowing magic sword.

They were experienced, but only to the level of street thugs.

I cut down each of the traffickers who attacked me, defeating them one by one.

The battle was over in just two minutes.

"Hmph."

"Murderer!!!"

Seeing the traffickers cut down, bleeding, and lying on the ground, one of the gathered refugees shouted.

No one was actually killed, but they didn't understand that.

"Murderer! Someone call the guards!"

"Don't let the criminal escape!"

The refugees surrounded me.

I held Leviathan in my hand, and they were afraid to attack, but they surrounded me to prevent my escape.

After a while, a group of guards pushed through the crowd of refugees.

"Move! What's going on?"

"Sir, it's him, he's a murderer."

One of the refugees explained the situation to a young guard who seemed to be the leader.

The guard leader glared at me—then.

"Ah! Your Majesty!"

He looked as if he had seen a ghost, then knelt before me with one knee.

"I didn't know Your Majesty was here, I apologize!"

"Hmm."

After the guard spoke, there was a brief silence.

"Your Majesty is present!"

Zoey said in a clear and authoritative voice.

The refugees, seeing the guards, all knelt down.

I asked the guard leader.

"Do you recognize me?"

It was unusual for a guard to know me.

"Yes! I—I mean, I am a subordinate of Sir Rice and once worked as a messenger in the Ministry of War."

"I see."

When Henry was in the Ministry of War, I was there too, so he must have seen me then.

"Really the emperor."

"The emperor punished the criminals?"

"How strong... "

Normally, people would be cautious about speaking in the emperor's presence, but the refugees from the countryside didn't know this and whispered their impressions.

Ignoring them, I ordered the guard.

"Arrest these people. They are suspected of being illegal slave traders."

"Yes, sir!"

The guards quickly arrested the traffickers I had cut down—without killing them—and took them away.

I looked around.

Children... a burden, huh.

I remembered the trafficker's words.

If the father had even considered selling his daughter—no, if others had actually sold their children, then being a refugee could indeed make children a burden.

If children are a burden, then infants would be even more so.

But people are a treasure.

Especially infants, who are still full of hope.

"Infants... nursery... child-rearing..."

The words sound bad.

In such cases—

"Zoey."

"Yes."

"Go to Don and have him build a 'Nursery.' If the refugees can't handle it, have him take the children for one—no, three years."

"Understood."

Zoey, loyal to me, accepted the order without any extra words.

On the other hand, Byron, who had watched everything up close, said:

"Your Majesty, that's impressive."

That's what he said.