Tower of Karma

Five years after that day, the Arcadia kingdom was experiencing the arrival of spring after a long winter. This year has been a harsh winter, with many frozen and starving deaths, and thus spring is the season that we have all been waiting for insanely. Nothing does not congratulate it on its arrival.

That is no exception for imported bookstores in the corner of the kingdom's capital. In winter, books sell themselves, but new books don't come in first. Without a new book, the stimulus would be thin for regular people, and new customers are hard to grasp in the first place because of the literacy rate.

The spring of imports is a delightful season for bookstores.

"Hey, get that one out of shelf number thirteen. Um, the one from Marcia's anatomy, uh, I forgot my name."

The bookstore owner calls out to the back after receiving the customer's order.

"Man-made, by Damwall, right? Is that a copy, or a translation?

"That. Well, you haven't translated it yet, have you? I think it was a new book."

"Oh, look, I translated it myself for once"

The shopkeeper looks out for surprises. The customer who heard it also had his eyes rounded.

A translation is a book that fixes a book in a separate language that came from another country into the language of this country. It could not be created without being familiar with at least two languages, and the task of translating and choosing words was a very difficult one to ask for taste. The work was carried out in a new book that came in the other day.

Then I'll ask you for a translation.

"Maido. Hey, translate, please."

"Okay. Please wait."

While the help picks up the book in the back, the shopkeeper and regular guests sneer at the story. Because of the customer business, this was also an important task.

"No, you're brilliant. That kid."

"When I first got here, I couldn't even read the letters. I couldn't help it. Desperately study, read the book, and become more familiar with the book than I am. Come on."

A shopkeeper who can flaunt his face like he's bragging about my child.

"Now I can leave the deal to some extent, because I can normally communicate with merchants in other countries. Rather, foreign languages are better than mine. I'm not proud of you."

Regular customers can only laugh bitterly at shopkeepers who obviously want to boast.

"Well, speaking of shortcomings,"

The shopkeeper turns around about time. Footsteps approached and emerged from the back of the

"This is the item you ordered. Translation of human body construction. Thank you, I have translated as thoroughly as I can with regard to translation. If there is a difficult part to understand, and if you will, we will explain it."

Grey youth. Blushing grey hair has long hidden eyes. Skin is blue and white. It's just dusty to say if you even wore ash. Extremely bent posture. I'm not short, but I'm not in a good position anyway. I can't look, I can't see, I can't see. He is a very unimpressive young man.

"As long as you're looking good. I used to be cute when I was a kid, but as I glanced at the book, it looked like this. Well, it's brilliant, and I don't mean luxury. Come on."

I'm not used to bad reviews of appearance, or how special young people seem to care.

"Wouldn't that be nice? Thank you. I've been looking forward to this all winter. But I don't understand Marcia's words. Even when I got the copy, I had to leave it to the translator next time. The itinerary was spared. Thank you so much."

That being said, regular customers offered double the price from Nostalgia.

"This is a fee. Take it."

"Ho, are you sure?

A young man who asks the shopkeeper. The shopkeeper nods. Be honest with the customer.

"Thank you"

A young man who gets exactly half the book. Satisfied to see it, he took the parchment translations and regular customers left the store.

"May I have this?

"It's a legitimate job rent. Take it."

The young man paid for his nostalgia for the first time since he took the confirmation again. and cough at the same time.

The shopkeeper sees the face of a young man in the open air. Clearly paler than usual.

"You don't look well these days. You can come up today."

"Excuse me, hon. Let me do that."

Store owners start closing the store as soon as possible, but are they more concerned about the poor health of the youth? youth tries to help,

"You don't have to help. Instead, heal your health. It is also forbidden to read books, go home and eat dinner and sleep. And coming to the store early in the morning. That's good."

"Okay. Excuse me first."

The young man gives thanks for the dust. I left the store straight out of my back.

"I hope it's just a cold."

The shopkeeper looked worried, staring at the bent back of the young man who had left.

○

Youth do not go to anyone's attention. It was inconspicuous, like Kasumi.

No one can blame you for walking off the route to your home and in another direction. Even the earlier regular customers will have already forgotten about the appearance of this young man and so on.

I'll be in the back alley or have extremely few people on the street. The young man advances his legs without hesitation. Dead spots also exist in this city, which is the king's capital. No one goes through. A place where no one is. Nothing. On the back street, under the street, a small waterway runs.

"Are you here? You're early."

"Apparently, I have a talent for acting."

A young man scratching and frying his hair. Then an eye appeared with a strangely powerful knob.

"Look, Kyle, Favela. I just bought an apple for the price."

Young man throwing apples to two. If you notice, the cat's back is also fixed. The atmosphere was changing.

"Sorry, Al."

Yes, he was Al. Five years ago, the boy who had been deprived of his sister and vowed vengeance had been transformed into a youth. It is definitely Al, although the voice-changing is over, the grown-up look, the impatient atmosphere as before fades.

"Well, I didn't think I needed an apple for the gladiator world's hopeful Hope and Bandit Guild elite."

Kyle, Favela was also changing in five years.

Kyle grew even taller, his big body caught his eye and was sold to the arena. Since then, he has boiled the arena as a gladiator. He is an up-and-coming prowess.

Favela also enters the one-ranked Bandit Guild from the Bandit Guild again. Assassination Guild Face Loss Concealment, Grow Up and Get Feminine Attraction, which also becomes a weapon. As a bandit, his arms are first-class.

"So, what can I do for you today? A man who's been busy lately and didn't even show his face."

It's been a long time since Al met Kyle and Favela. The last time I saw him was six months ago, and even before that, I never looked at him that often.

"You have no choice. There was so much to remember. Learning too."

Kyle and Favela, they both kept busy, but Al is exceptional. He barely rested and devoured books, accumulated knowledge, and trained his body not to fade. Even when meeting with Kyle occasionally, he is mostly asked to attach an archery to gain experience gained in the arena.

"But there's nothing more to learn."

All for this day.

"My body also grew. Well, I've been squeezing for acting lately, but if you eat a little and go to bed, don't go back right away."

Al was lying down. For the past five years, I've been focusing only on building strength. Winter for Al had been going on since that day. That ends today, too, and spring will come for Al.

"So, I know it works, but what exactly are we going to do?

Kyle asks Al. I could understand moving. The three of us also understand that five years was for that purpose. But I never heard that from Al about exactly how it works.

"Right. Kill me first."

"Become!?

Al suddenly mentions that there is no clapping either. Kyle and the others can only be surprised.

"In the first place, as a prerequisite, this country has not been able to allow slaves to rise in a generation. Even when slaves are liberated, they are 'liberated slaves', not citizens. We're not even allowed to participate in a bonus game called War, which is the easiest war for civilians to come out of."

Liberation slaves have the right to be close to their citizens, but do not leave the realm of slavery only. It can be the next generation, that is, from children to citizens' rights, to civilians. Conversely, even if a miracle occurs, we remain forever enslaved rettels.

"Then you can't. It doesn't make sense if I don't prove it. Right, lady?"

Al bellied with mercy. Kyle and the others have a complicated look at the trick.

"No matter how much money you pile, you can't even surpass citizens with liberation slaves. Civilians are occupied by nobles, and political participation has more rights than citizens in the first place. Even the same civilians do not have the right to political participation by farmers. After all, the only way to be a war is to launch a special feat."

Doing so will make a grand tour, and those who were in the end slaves will not be able to crawl up.

"That's why you kill me. You need to kill me, you need to kill the liberating slave that says Al, and you need to wipe out Lettere, the slave that stuck with me."

What Al says is understandable. A slave cannot crawl up. I can't even join the war, even if I climb to the top as gladiator. There is nothing socially acceptable. But killing oneself with it is the end of the fall.

"For now, yes. But Kyle will tell the bookstore tomorrow. I need some time because Al is ill. He said he was sorry. I need you to refrain from going to the hospital. I'll deal with it when you get here."

Al turns his foot to the waterway as he asks Kyle to tell him the story. Squeeze the water with your hands, wash your face. Blue and white pathological colors fade, eyelids disappear, and healthy, youthful skin appears.

"Favela's in trouble, too. It was good cosmetics. Wouldn't women use this from time to time? Damn, you're a fine con artist, a woman."

"But I'm sober."

"Right. I think that would be irregular. Okay."

Al, with his face up, had been reborn into a good young man like he couldn't see. No, it was more of a makeup trick. I've never missed makeup every day in the last three years. Almost someone else's atmosphere even if you just removed makeup, plus...

"This guy would be perfect if he cut and washed too"

Grey hair. It's supposed to be gray. It looks dirty and gray now, but if you wash it, gray hair appears. This is also part of the disguise. These fine stacks are the fabric stones to kill liberating slave Al.

"Well is that good later? Just do me a favor, Kyle. Please be as sad as you can be."

Al muddles his wet face with cuffs.

"And Favera has a few more favors to ask. You can come by my house later."

"Never mind."

"What are you going to ask for?

"What, a little something?"

Kyle gives a strange look, but where does Al blow the wind? []/(exp, v5r) (uk) to relax/to relax/

"Then we'll meet back here in a few days. I'll tell you more there."

Thus the three left the scene.

○

"That's why I'm telling you. I have an idea. I don't need an ID anymore."

"Do you have one that breaks your ID?! If you're enough to go on such an outrage, all you have to do is calmly explore how to crawl up in slavery! You'd be a translator, wouldn't you?

"Ha, a translator is a hired, rich, aristocratic pawn of the Chamber of Commerce. I want to use them as pawns!

"But your ID!?

A little argument between Al and Kyle was scattering sparks. Favela persists in her attitude without my involvement.

"That's why I told you you couldn't be a slave."

"But whoever loses his ID is less than a slave. We even treat humans in this country."

"You think slaves were being treated like humans?

Al's gaze shoots Kyle. Something similar to killing spills.

After seeing how Kyle was holding up, Al calmed down a little again.

"Ugh, sorry. So don't be a slave. It was impossible for me. From the moment I was born, I have been fated to be a loser. That's slavery."

Al, who had Favela cut his hair off, had already become a complete different person. No, it was back to what it was.

"Not in this country, what does that mean?

…… You're leaving the country?

Kyle finally comes to think of it. In this country, slaves are not allowed to crawl up. But if you're in another country, if you go to a different country in the legal system, you can crawl up.

"Half correct. Well, it's true to leave. Confidentially, don't let anyone get away with it."

But this is where the problem arises. Just like clandestine immigration, it is also forbidden in this country for those without identity cards to leave the country clandestinely. I didn't allow anyone without an ID to exist in the first place.

That Al, who broke his ID, is leaving the country, which is already a difficult question.

"Whoa. Don't be silly, Kyle. Why is Favera here? Where did Favela's parents come from?

"I see," Kyle scratched his head. Favera doesn't have an ID. And my parents were secretly in this country. I mean, if you follow the other way...

"I can get out of this country. But the route is hard."

Map of this country that Favera had prepared, spread it out. It's a map of the sewers in this king's capital. Kyle sighed loudly when he saw it.

"Al, I can't do this. The sewers are full of manure, and it's not sane to scratch this distance out of the country."

Al laughs bitterly when he hears Kyle.

"Carl, don't make a mistake. No matter how uncomfortable, no matter how full of misery, you can't do it unless it's impossible. What happened to the manure? Why don't we just rinse it? If you can go up there with that, I'll rinse you as much as I want."

Al had been ready a long time ago. Use any hand to crawl up. I don't even want to eat it.

"The sewers are fine. At the end of the day, check for lacerations."

A sea of manure full of mold. I say we go around there. Even from a few lacerations, the mold enters, causing symptoms such as tetanus.

"Okay. But what are we gonna do when we get out of the country? I don't care if you make a name for yourself in another country."

"You're wrong there, too, Kyle. I'm gonna crawl up in this country. It wouldn't make sense to prove it in another country, would it? I'm leaving this country for me to go up there. Temporarily."

Kyle has a much blurrier look. I don't even understand Favela. Al chuckled when he saw it. Spread your hands wide on your backs.

"Well, watch. I don't wait for a miracle. I'll take it myself."

Al's expression is invisible from the two of us.

"The next time I enter this country, that's the beginning of a new 'me'!

I lay low for five years, now is the beginning. The vengeful ghost moves out.

"Oh, yeah. Favera. The letter you asked for, did you give it to me?

Al punching his hand with a pong. I look back to Favela.

"Yeah. But why 'over there'?

Kyle gets pompous. Kyle doesn't know a few things about Favela. If I had known, I might have stopped it.

"'Cause I have to be dead, right? From records, from memories."

Tickling smiling Al.

"So I can't help it."

The meaning of the laughter at this time, it's only after everything is over that Kyle finds out. Soon as it stops, it will not give a stop gap, and Al will go our way.

The night Al went into sewage to leave this country, at the same time an imported bookstore disappeared from Wang capital. It was a friendly and beloved shop from the intellectuals of the Wang capital, but at the end it was engulfed in flames. Dry parchment burns. Books burn well.

Unhappiness is an overlap. The owner's fire never ends. Unfortunately, the shopkeeper, his wife, and three of the 'help' were burned to death. That's how this one was cleared up. And a bookstore and many others are forgotten, and memories are weathered.

These three beings were wiped out of this country. From memory, from records.

The truth of this matter is, in darkness.