Chapter 13: Then, I Will Pledge My Loyalty to You (Part 2) (Patreon)

Subaru Natsuki understood one fact with total clarity.

If he stood here, right now, and told a bald-faced lie that everyone present could see through, not one of the thousand-odd people watching would call him out on it — even knowing full well it was false.

They would brand that lie into their hearts and accept it without hesitation, embracing the enormous upheaval it promised for their lives, and they would rally behind it, shouting as they marched into action together.

It might not even count as a complete lie, really, since the odds of success were so absurdly high that you could practically call it a sure thing already.

But—

No matter how many excuses he dug up, a lie was a lie and the truth was the truth. That never changed.

Winning people over through deception — that wasn't how Subaru Natsuki operated!

With a thousand pairs of eyes fixed on him, in full view of everyone, Subaru planted his feet, raised the crude megaphone to his lips, and — voice worn ragged but unwavering — hurled his words out, bright and unashamed:

"I know what you want to hear. I know exactly how I could trick you into believing it. But here's what I'm telling you instead — I'm Subaru Natsuki. Just Subaru Natsuki. I don't change my name, I don't change my story, and I will not lie to you!"

"You want guarantees? I can't give you any. You want safety? I can't give you that either. You want comfort? I don't have that kind of power."

"All I can tell you is: I don't know!"

"I don't know if I'll succeed. I don't know if following me will get you anywhere good. And I sure as hell can't promise you things won't get worse!"

"But don't feed me any more excuses — I've only got one thing to say to you, and now I need one answer back. Are you in, or are you out?"

There was no room left for hesitation, no middle ground offered. Subaru's eyes were sharp as blades, cutting into the thousand faces before him.

He'd done what needed doing. If these thousand people chose not to follow, he'd turn and walk away without another word, no lingering, no arguments — but yes or no, they owed him a clean answer.

He, Subaru Natsuki, was betting everything he had on this — every last chip staked on freeing the slums. That put him and them on equal footing, a balanced scale.

The price he'd paid wasn't one ounce lighter than what any of them had paid. He owed this crowd of a thousand nothing — not a single debt.

So come on. Choose.

"—"

The whole vast plaza fell silent.

Under the fading light of dusk, every face flickered between uncertain shadows, torn in every direction.

"Tch. Bunch of spineless jellyfish, men and women alike — pathetic, honestly. Fine, go ahead and agonize over it, you useless lot."

Into that silence came Felt's mocking laugh, unashamed of the contempt she was heaping on the thousand people around her. Sneering openly, she skipped a few light steps, her hair ribbon flicking behind her, and sauntered over to stand beside Subaru — bold as brass, like it was nothing at all.

No explanation needed.

If these spineless slum-dwellers chose to back down, she wasn't going to waste any more time growing up in this place. She'd been looking at the same unchanging scenery for years now anyway — she was about due to get sick of it.

Not that she'd ever actually planned to leave.

But—

Just a little.

Just the tiniest bit.

If that idiot Subaru went off to make trouble on his own, well — she'd worry about him. Just a tiny bit. Really, only the tiniest bit.

So she might as well tag along.

And bring Old Man Rom too. If this fool tried to play lone wolf, or refused to bring the old man along, she'd stab him eighty-eight times with her knife, just so he'd know better.

Sure, this guy could apparently beat a thousand people now, some absurd cheat-code leap in strength since the first time she'd met him... but she could always ambush him while he slept. So it was fine!

"Ohh."

Old Man Rom let out a sigh, said nothing, and walked over to stand beside Subaru as well.

Sitting on the ground with their tongues lolling out like a pack of hound dogs — having already snuck two extra apples each when no one was looking — the trio of Ton, Chin, and Kan exchanged glances. Slow as inching worms, but dutiful all the same, they crawled, faces plastered with reluctance, until they reached Subaru's feet.

So then — what were they going to do?

The thousand people present looked at one another. Among them were men and women, old and young — the youngest barely seven or eight, faces caked with grime, bodies so stunted from malnutrition you'd have guessed four or five.

One man was here because a local noble, cruel and tyrannical, had plundered his territory at will — and one day, purely for amusement, had beaten the man's wife and child to death. He'd gone to the royal capital seeking justice, only to find no one would hear his cries. He'd burned through everything he owned, and in despair, ended up here, living day to day.

One old man, past sixty now, had spent his youth as a beggar and had once given aid to countless people in these slums. Now, in his old age, those he'd once saved had no means of their own — they couldn't leave, couldn't earn a living, and could only watch him waste away, day by day. He might not have more than a few months left.

One woman rubbed her belly, round and swollen like a balloon. If she had any say in it, she didn't want her child to live out the same life she had.

So many people. So many different stories. So much unspent resentment.

And yet none of them had ever truly thought to act. Even bottom feeders dream of rising, but a bottom feeder that rises is still just a bottom feeder. There had been bold talk before, grand declarations — and every time, it had ended in failure, grinding down whatever fight was left in them.

But could it really — could things really just go on like this forever?

If it had been anyone else standing there, saying those words, doing what had just been done — they would have scattered immediately.

But this was Subaru Natsuki — eyes full of resolve, face set in dead earnest, a man who did exactly what he said, who had beaten every one of them single-handed and hadn't bothered lying to them even once.

Could a man like that be trusted? Could he be leaned on?

"...Someday, we'll lose our courage. But not today."

"...Someday, our resentment will finally fade. But that day isn't today."

"...Someday, we might fall flat on our faces again. But right now, I believe in you. We believe in you, Subaru Natsuki. And if you fail — we'll hate you for it. Is that alright with you?"

One voice murmured it first; a thousand voices echoed it back. It was a shameless thing to do — laying the weight of their fates and their grudges on the shoulders of one man standing before them.

And Subaru?

He showed no fear, no trace of resentment. He just broke into a grin. "If you need to hate me, then go ahead and hate me."

For one brief moment, silence reigned — stunned, disbelieving silence.

This time there was no need for uncertain glances, no need for some silent unspoken consensus. As the wheel of fate turned to its next act, from this slum the outside world had trampled underfoot for so long, a single shared cry finally rose up:

"Then we pledge our loyalty to you!"