Chapter 77: Underclass Order
"Senpai!" Mash followed closely behind Ritsuka. The teen dashed through the alleyways, turning a corner and finding—
Five people. Four men and one woman. One of the men stood in a protective posture next to the woman while the other three— those who stayed between Ritsuka and the couple— wielded knives and were slowly inching towards the man and woman.
"HEY!" Ritsuka yelled out, catching the trio's attention as they briefly turned behind. What did you think you all were doing?!"
One of the trio chuckled, "Heh, look a' what we 'ave 'ere! A hero ey?"
Everyone present was dressed poorly. Compared to the Mystic Code wrapped around Ritsuka's body and Mash's armor, the other five's clothing were all rags. And this information appears to dawn on one of the trio as he taps another's shoulder.
"Tom, you sure this a good idea?"
Tom immediately scowled, his grin vanishing like smoke rising from a campfire, "Bloody hell, you're supposed to keep that threatenin' face you fuckin' gump. You think I didn't know that?"
Ritsuka realized what was going on. He was reminded of how pirates worked mostly through intimidation. In truth, pirates, bandits, and muggers were all thieves who held little spine. They use fear to get their targets to give up the goods without a fight, because unlike in anime or a game where injuries can be healed with a single potion or a healing spell, wounds in real life are debilitating and long-lasting. Permanent injuries are an almost certainty in a life-or-death struggle.
"If you don't scram right now I'm going to unleash a magic spell."
"Wot? You sum' kinda witch?"
Ritsuka thought back to his magecraft lessons with Olga. Long hours spent with her, constantly reading and learning about magecraft and everything related to this field. Many times he thought about giving up, yet he never stopped coming to Olga's lesson, and in turn, the Director never stopped teaching him.
He thought about his rage at how useless humans were compared to Servants and the divine, and his body began to heat up.
That was a mental trigger used to activate his magic circuits, letting magical energy flow through his veins, ready to be shaped into a spell.
His ultimate spell. The only spell he managed to learn after six months of being taught by Olga, the Heiress to one of the Twelve Lords of the Clock Tower.
"Funken."
Bright sparks like those coming from a firework lit up all over the trio's body. They screamed in pain, as one would when fiery sparks each no larger than the piercing ends of a needle appeared suddenly on your skin.
It was a pathetic spell, one that's not effective at all against even a third-rate magus. It couldn't even kill, at most only blinding the enemy when the thermite reaction sparks appeared in their eyes. At best it could be used to set fire to something flammable.
Essentially, all Ritsuka did for six months, using his terrible magecraft talent, was to learn a lighter spell fit for party tricks.
It was an incredibly depressing state of affairs considering how much effort Ritsuka spent trying to learn magecraft compared with how little he got out of it. Even so, he's very thankful for how patient Olga had been even with so little progress. Honestly, if it were up to Ritsuka trying to teach another version of himself, he'd probably have given up already. But not Olga, never Olga.
Those three other men ran away, their steps a torrential downpour of sounds that echoed inside this alleyway with how quickly they moved.
"Are you guys alright?" Ritsuka felt he was plunged into a tub of cool water when he deactivated his magic circuits.
"Are you a spirit medium?" The man asked, the woman hid behind him, obviously frightened.
Ritsuka remembered his lessons on spirit medium. Although in the real world, they were seen as charlatans, people pretending they could communicate with spirits, in truth the Mage's Association threatened them to say how everything was a farce, a show they made up to earn money lest they be killed in horrific fashions.
"...Um no, those are some mere chemicals I threw. It causes pain. Not actual Magic."
The man's wary expression changed into that of a smile, "Well, that is not a sight one encounters every day. My dear, they are but ordinary folk."
The woman looked relieved. She stepped forward, a smile on her face, "Ello there, name's Mary," Her head turned, and introduced the man, "and this 'ere's me, husband, Charlie. We're ever so grateful for you helpin' us out with them hooligans. Reckon the Lord 'imself 'eard me prayers and sent you as 'is messengers."
Charlie had brown hair and brown eyes while Mary had blonde hair and blue eyes. The husband was half a head taller than Ritsuka while the wife was a bit shorter.
Ritsuka's own smile grew a bit awkward when the woman trod upon religious grounds with her words. "I am Ritsuka Fujimaru and this is Mash Kyrielight."
"Ri-su-ka Fu-ji-ma-ru?" Mary repeated, "Well those are some names I've never heard before. Have you, dear?"
"No."
The teen's gaze took in the couple. They wore rags and tears all over their clothing. Pieces of blackening were present all over like mushrooms on a rotten log. Their faces spoke of tiredness, full of stress.
"We'd be right glad to 'ave you stay the night. Please, stay with us—let me repay the Lord's goodness for all 'e's done for us."
"Mary," Charlie growled.
Mary looked back at her husband with an expression of innocence, as if she didn't know why Charlie was mad.
"Ah, sorry about that," Ritsuka began to backtrack, he thought of an excuse, "I'm actually going to sell some of my trinkets to some shops."
"At this late hour?" Charlie asked, a hue of coldness present.
"What do you mean this late? There is still sunlight, no?" Ritsuka looked up at the gray, empty skies above, finding it to be noticeably darker than before he ran into this alleyway.
A pit opened up in his stomach. Fear crept in as Ritsuka realized the two might have to spend time outside rather than even a penny sit-up.
"Oh…"
"Please, stay with us. We'd be honored to host those who saved us from those hooligans."
"Mary, come on they never said yes" Charlie mumbled, hoping Ritsuka wouldn't hear it.
Ritsuka looked back to Mash, seeing how she had no issues with the arrangement, he slowly turned around to face Mary. "It'll be our honor. Sorry to trouble you…"
"No, no! It's no trouble at all. The Lord's blessed me with your help, and it's the least I can do to 'ave you stay the night." Mary insisted, ignoring Charlie's growl.
Seeing how he and Mash had no other place to rest, the two agreed.
The four walked out of the alleyway. Mary spoke, Usually, we'd never take this path, not with all the gangs about. But, seein' as there's been an upset in the usual order, I thought it might be—"
"Well, you believed wrong woman. You should've listened to me when I said we'll take the longer way." The hostility from Charlie was instant.
Mary instantly deferred, not bothering to defend her position, "I'm sorry, love. You were right. I ought to listen to you more often."
"If only you'd listen to me for this."
It felt weird for Ritsuka to intrude on an obvious domestic problem, so the teen turned to look at the houses around the group. They were extremely different from the townhouses in the shopping district.
For one, this was the slums. The very entrance to it made itself known with an unmistakable sign: the streets themselves were an insult to what had come before in the shopping district. The gravel cobblestones, once neatly arranged and tidy, now gave way to uneven patches of dirt, gaps where one or two stones should've fit. They were like wounds that revealed the facade of civilization. Trash appeared here and there, all scattered haphazardly adding to the sense that this place had been forsaken.
Townhouses lined both sides of this street like trees on a forested path. They appeared almost stripped down. All of them possessed no decorations, no finishes like the police station to hide the faded red bricks. No proud facades, just the remnants of what might've been an upscale neighborhood. Soot clung to every crevice, the doorways were choked with stacks of boxes— some filled others not.
Children played about in the filth, some ran around while others chased them in a game of tag. There was genuine laughter. The children laughed truthfully as if they had no problem being in the slums. It was disturbing that something so innocent could exist in a place this forsaken. The adults milled about, talking with each other in low-voiced conversations.
Ritsuka's gaze swept upward toward the windows. Most of them were dark voids, as if the houses were dead. The few that did have light inside seemed so weak that they stood on the precipice of going out altogether.
As Ritsuka walked further in, he noticed the smell. The stench of sewers and the odor of rot. Most of the sewers had open lids, with no guard rails anywhere. Isn't that a safety concern?
"Apologies for the smell, most of us are used to it."
Ritsuka looked horrified, same with Mash. These people live in worse conditions than even the pirates of Captain Drake's crew. A hell compared to the great luxuries of Nero's Rome.
This wasn't a way to live, merely to survive.
Nonetheless, Ritsuka swallowed the judgment building in his throat by reminding himself of Kuku's philosophy. Never judge. Never hate.
The couple stopped by a townhouse that was indistinguishable from the others. Two piles of boxes were placed in front of the house, between which sat a narrow path into the doorway.
"Home sweet home," Charlie said.
It was a very sketchy building, one that if placed within the present day would be the subject of numerous horror stories concerning ghosts. It would be a shelter for the homeless during winter.
As the group entered the house, Ritsuka noticed how neither of the couple took off their shoes. The floor was pure dirt as if laying down lengths of wood costs too much. The teen took further samples of the interiors, finding that he could see all four corners of the house.
This first floor had no walls like in a modern home, only tables, benches, and a truly massive fireplace placed into the walls that made it look like there was a maw attached to the house, one large enough to devour an adult whole. There was a pot hung atop the fireplace.
Ritsuka heard rumbling upstairs, as though a thunderstorm was raging outside. Over half a dozen children came down from the second floor, their clothes better described as rags and their shoes full of holes where one could see their digits through. The children greeted the four with smiles on their faces.
"""Papa, Mama!"""
The kids rushed to their parents. The sheer number present shocked Ritsuka, were these all Mary's kids?
Charlie held the youngest one— no more than four years old— up in his hands. "Did ya lot do well at work today?"
"Yeah! I earned five whole pennies today cleaning the chimney!" A boy whose age must've been no more than eight replied, excited as he held out five copper coins each about as wide as Ritsuka's index finger.
"..."
Ritsuka stared at the scene as all the childrens began giving money to the parents. His face was full of frozen shock, his mind simultaneously finding the sight of children loving their parents wholesome yet this was undercut by the knowledge of child labor.
"Senpai, child labor is common throughout the Victorian Era," Mash said as she held his hands.
"I… I know Mash. I know." Ritsuka replied sadly. The teen's eyes were locked on how the chimney-cleaning kid had no skin on his knees and elbows, only patches of red scabs.
More and more Ritsuka found himself glad he was born in the modern era. So many modern amenities, such as basic human rights, medicine, laws that prevent child labor, and so much more, were taken for granted, and now, it shows just how uncommon they existed for the vast majority of human history. Prior to this point, Ritsuka had always known modern times constituted a tiny portion of the entire human history, but having lived with such amenities all his life, it never really sunk in.
Now, Ritsuka is more aware than ever.
"Alright, kids, we've got guests with us today. Let me introduce ya to Ri-su-ka Fu-ji-ma-ru and Mash Kyrielight. Nobles from another land," Mary said as she clapped her hands, catching all the children's attention. "Go introduce yourselves. I'll talk with ya papa."
The tallest one went first. Like the others, he possessed brown hair and blue eyes, "I am James."
The tallest girl went next, looking quite proud of herself, "I'm Chloe. I work at a laundry and I earn the most out of all my siblings."
"I am Richard and I make the second most out of all my siblings, but I work the least amount of hours, a mere 10." Said the third tallest of the group.
Several other childrens instantly looked peeved, flickers of jealousy manifesting in their eyes with the way everyone just turned away from Richard.
Ritsuka had to visibly hold himself back from collapsing in shock. 10 hours is the floor to how much these kids are working? How atrocious.
"I'm John, and I'm the oldest." Said the second tallest.
"Older by five minutes." James intruded, rolling his eyes.
John replied with a cheeky smile, "Still the oldest."
John brought a hand up, and Ritsuka had to double-check to realize John didn't have all his fingers. He was missing sections of his left ring finger.
The other younger childrens introduced themselves.
"I'm Wyatt," said a boy no older than six.
"I'm Tommy, I'm…" mumbled the boy in Charlie's arms.
"I'm Gena." The voice belonged to a girl seven years old. "I know how to count to a thousand."
And finally, "I'm Allen. I work at a clothes factory." Allen was no more than eleven years old.
They were all so young, yet everyone was already working. As Ritsuka paid more attention to the kids' extremities, he noticed that the older children all had scars—some had patches of missing skin, and others had missing fingers. Chloe looked the least scarred of the group.
"There's William as well, but he's bein' rude. Do forgive him for not greetin' you—I'll make sure he gets a proper talkin'-to" Mary said as she and her husband returned. "We've got another guest stayin' with us—Willas, a close friend of the family."
"Mary, why don't you get the food ready? I'm sure our guests are feeling quite famished." Charlie dictated, his eyes slowly drawing away from Mary and towards John, "Prepare two beds for our guests. James, get some beer, they must be thirsty."
John and Charlie both went upstairs and James walked out of the door, the veil of night making him disappear. Mary went to grab the pot held atop the fireplace, using a towel as an insulator to grab the lid and open it. The aroma of vegetables very quickly filled the room, and Mary announced, "The soup is ready."
Richard stepped forward, "I've never seen you before. Where are you two from? And why is she armored?"
"I'm from Japan. Mash here is from…" Ritsuka trailed off as he looked at the armored girl. Shit, she hasn't been anywhere other than Antarctica has she?
"I'm from Japan as well," Mash spoke. Rather than question further, Richard accepted this explanation.
"Where is Japan?"
"It is an island east of Britain. Far far east, east of China." Ritsuka answered. Richard's eyes widened as the implication settled within his mind.
"Woah. East of China? China is like, the most east thing there is!"
Ritsuka and Mash smiled at Richard's naivety. It was a good break from their bleak situation.
In the meantime, Mary got to work scooping up the cabbage soup into bowls. There was suddenly a loud banging sound from above, as though something heavy had been dropped.
"What is—?"
"That's just Papa disciplining William," Richard remarked casually as if it wasn't a topic that deserved attention.
When Richard spoke of disciplining, Ritsuka's mind instead went towards physical discipline. Although corporal punishment isn't strictly illegal in Japan, and the teen has heard horror stories of it being exercised by teachers, Ritsuka himself has never experienced such a punishment. The Fujimaru household was much more progressive.
Before Ritsuka could say anything else, heavy footsteps came from the stairs. Charlie walked down, followed closely by a young boy no older than twelve.
The boy had black hair and purple eyes, though he and Richard had some similarities. The teen wore slightly better-quality clothing than his siblings and wore a black beret on his head. Ghosts of tears adorned his face.
"Hi, I'm William," The boy spoke, a bit of a tremor in his tone.
Unlike the others, William didn't say anything more, merely joining Mary by the bench.
Quiet kid, Ritsuka figured, as anyone would be after being physically punished. Though seeing William like this reminded him of Zvezdnyy before that worry was dismissed. Zvezdnyy can change the world however she likes, he'll worry more about Kuku than her of all people.
James came back into the house with a small tankard above his right shoulder.
"The food is ready," Mary announced as the children sat on the benches next to the fireplace. The woman began to use a ladle to fill wooden bowls.
Ritsuka and Mash joined them and sat on the empty spots on top benches, their legs thrusting into the void underneath the tables.
Charlie remarked as he ripped the lid from the tankard, "This ale may be of poor quality, but at least it shan't make you ill, unlike the water drawn from the well."
Ah. Clean water. Make that another thing to add to the list of things Ritsuka misses from modern life.
____
AN: So, sorry about the massive delay in posting. I had exams last week and I just got into Marvel Rivals as well as buying Bloodborne the complete edition.
On a side note regarding Bloodborne, holy fuck did I miss the Stakes of Marika. I have trekked through so many enemies just to reach the boss again. Also, why aren't there more Sites of Grace equivalents?
Anyway, here's a new chapter. I'm hoping I can return to a regular, somewhat predictable schedule now that I've finished the semester.
Your comments give me motivation. Please, I need a lot of motivation to churn out this monster of a Singularity.