Vol. 4 Chap. 24 Wartime Expediency

Vol. 4 Chap. 24 Wartime Expediency

Truth kept an eye on Thrush. There didn’t seem to be any particularly dramatic changes going on, but he could feel a sort of whispering, a sense of pieces shifting slightly. The little black bird was drawing the mass of gore and corruption into itself, seemingly shivering in pleasure.

What the hell am I going to do with all the kids? Truth tapped his fingers on his leg, trying to think it through.

>

Truth tried to puzzle it out. The kids run out into the street, and go... where, exactly? They don’t have homes, they are refugees. Go to the cops? Ahahahaha. No. But say they did- what would they tell the cops, exactly?

“They worked us until we dropped! We died in there!”

“Mmm. I will be sure to visit the Sung family. Definitely a fine to collect there.”

“Fine? They were killing us. This is murder?”

“I’m arresting you for slander and defamation of a high-tier citizen! How dare you accuse the honorable Sung Clan of murder! You can look forward to a lifetime of hard labor on the chain gang, assuming we don’t need you for mine sweeping duty.”

“We were droned and forced to work until we died, how is that not murder?”

“At most, it was an unsafe work environment. Completely different thing. Don’t worry. You will have plenty of time to learn the difference in prison. Not that you will have much time indoors, what with the hard labor and mine sweeping.”

Well, that was the cops. What if they went to the public? Ran down the street, screaming “The Sung Clan is murdering us, the Sung Clan works children to death!”

People would turn away. They would call the cops and demand that they do something about these filthy denizen urchins running up and down the street, screaming nonsense.

There was no safe place he could take them. Even if he emptied out all the stored food in his ring, he couldn’t feed all of them for more than a day or two. When you got right down to it, he wasn’t even sure that what the Sung Clan was doing was illegal. Wartime necessity, dispensation for operating in a city soon to be under siege, changes in the minimum safe working conditions for Denizens if any existed, special incentives for employing refugees...

Some morbid part of Truth’s mind wondered if they got a tax credit for providing children with job opportunities. Probably. There was some pathetic part of people that would rather have a million wen tax free than five million wen taxed at twenty percent. The Sung Clan had the clout to not let their dreams stay dreams.

He couldn’t save these kids. There was no safe place in Jeon. No safe place anywhere, really. Even if he got them on a spellbird and flew them Straight to Siphios, what would Siphios do with them?

“Oh you poor homeless orphans from a country we hate with every single shred of matter and spirit in our bodies, let us get you some foster families, teach you a brand new language, and oh whoops the apocalypse all the grownups are dead, good luck!”

“And it would be the same but worse when I empty out that slaughterhouse, of course. All that information must be suppressed. Damaging to wartime morale, quite possibly a capital offense, depending on how they are writing the law now. Defamation, naturally. Truth is no defense there. Mmm... attempting to sabotage a key army supplier too, I bet. And naturally any reports of cannibalism are transparent black propaganda.”

“This is why you need Hell.” Thrush’s voice, already rich and deep, seemed to have smoothed and mellowed even further. Not seductive in the romantic sense, but in the charismatic- this was a voice that was making the right calls and telling it like it is.

“I need Hell.”

“Yes, Master. You, and everyone else.”

“As a deterrent?”

The ground meat was mixed with some ground grain, or perhaps bean flour he couldn’t tell, pressed into logs, stuffed into casings, flattened, flash-boiled, chopped into individually sealed bars, and dumped into far more industrial looking boxes. VNS Emergency Rations, NOT FOR RESALE, GOVERNMENT USE ONLY, DENIZEN/REFUGEE/LIVESTOCK USE ONLY

Then, in a different font and smaller letters: Varches Nutrient Solutions. A Family Company.

Truth nodded. Sounded right.

He found the factory supervisors office.

“Is this factory overseen by Sung Sahni?”

“WOAH! Where the hell did you-”

Truth gave him a calm look. The pre-knowledge of death wrapped around the supervisor, as he slowly collapsed back into his seat.

“Is this factory overseen by Sung Sahni?”

“Yes. Yes. This is a Sung Clan Company. I. I am a servant of the Sung Clan. Protected by the Sung Clan!”

“When does Sung Sahni come by?”

“Once a month, usually. Sometimes more often if there is big business or a photoshoot or something.”

“Will she come if you call?”

“Yes. Yes!”

“Tell her it’s urgent. Tell her that some government inspectors are here. They know about the kids in the sweatshop. They want a bigger bribe than you can give them, and look like they are trying to throw their weight around. You need her to come down and take charge. Sending a servant won’t do it. Can you do that?”

“Yes. Yes. I will do that. I will.”

“Good. You won’t see me, but I will be here. Watching and listening to everything. Do anything other than what I told you, and your death will be remembered for its horror and humiliation.”

Truth sat back in the chair, letting his presence vanish from the world. Wishing he could let his thoughts and emotions fly away with it. He could feel a raging blackness in him. The sheer stupid helplessness of his situation making him want to lash out, making him want to kill everyone as ugly as possible.

See! See! I’m not powerless! I can change things.

I can kill you. And I can make it hurt. I can make you scared while you die.

Maybe I can’t make things better. But for you, I can make them much, much worse.

When you are dead, things may still be terrible, but it will be a terrible world without you in it. And that will have to be good enough for now.