Chapter 24
Playing Nobility
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The first thing I had to do was disguise myself. For the tools and know-how necessary for the disguise, I received help from Spring Parsley.
Spring Parsley was an architect who had to conceal his identity, so he was quite skilled in both using the tools required for disguise and the techniques involved.
I wore a wig, made a scar on my cheek, attached a fake beard, and changed my skin tone. Even with just this much, it would be enough to deceive most people.
Afterward, I boarded a train departing from Bennett City and arrived at Saint Deville Station.
Saint Deville.
It was the last station where trains traveling on long routes could undergo maintenance after leaving Bennett City.
With a loud screech, the train spewed steam everywhere as it pulled away.
After getting off at the station, I clicked my tongue as I looked around.
They had said that many factories had moved in, and sure enough, it had become an environment completely unsuitable for beekeeping.
Good grief, the water was rainbow-colored. My head felt like it was turning into a swirl of colors.
The Valorn Empire claimed to guarantee at least a minimum standard of living conditions for workers, but that didn’t mean they guaranteed the right to clean air or clear water.
Even in broad daylight, acrid smoke drifted through the air like a ghost.
On the river, strange-colored oils floated or the surface shimmered with suspiciously bright hues.
I wrinkled my brow slightly at the nauseating smell spreading along the river.
The textile factories in Saint Deville must have been discharging their wastewater directly into the water. In any case, the water and air of Saint Deville were problems for the locals to solve, not my concern.
The reason I came here was because of the train scheduled to arrive tomorrow morning.
It’s just as Spring Parsley had said.
And already, the area around the train station was filled with Security Corps troops and soldiers controlling the people.
Since tomorrow a train loaded with a huge amount of tax revenue was arriving, it was perfectly natural for them to strengthen the station’s security.
Identification.
You’re working hard. Here you are.
I handed over my identification without resistance. It was a forged ID anyway.
If this were Bennett City, I’d have had to offer a bribe along with the identification...
The Security Corps member searching me now, however, was performing his duties properly, unlike the ones in Bennett City.
And the forged identification I’d purchased in Bennett City at full price was so elaborate it was nearly perfect.
Identification confirmed.
Thank you. Is something happening? You’ve suddenly tightened security like this.
In response to my question, the Security Corps member answered.
That’s not something an ordinary imperial subject needs to know. Go take care of your business. This station is currently under Security Level 2, so unless it’s absolutely necessary, don’t loiter around.
At locations under Security Level 2, the Security Corps or soldiers stationed there were authorized to arrest anyone at their discretion.
Unless there was some truly monumental reason, it was best not to loiter anywhere that had been placed under heightened security.
Sadly, I had a reason to loiter.
And not just any reason. I had to be at the station at the very moment security would be at its strictest, precisely when the train loaded with tax revenue arrived.
Naturally, when that time came, ordinary imperial subjects would be strictly prohibited from entering the station.
By the final moment, when I boarded the train, I would need to be wearing a cleaner’s uniform, but until then, it meant I had to enter the station in a different disguise.
Disguising myself as a member of the Security Corps or an imperial soldier would be the most reliable option.
I slowly looked around. After all, the same soldiers wouldn’t stand guard in the same place for twenty-four hours straight.
They would be rotating shifts. Disguising myself as one of them was clearly the cleanest way to get onto the train.
It all sounded so easy when I just thought about it.
It wasn’t an easy method. No, it only looked easy—actually carrying it out was almost impossible. The imperial soldiers, conscripted by draft, often belonged to the same unit, living together in the same barracks for years, eating and sleeping side by side.
Trying to fool them by stealing a uniform, putting on a helmet to cover my face, and hoping to pass as one of them was no different from sticking a dot on my cheek and pretending to be someone else. Complete lunacy.
Ah, there’s simply no way this is going to work.
It didn’t seem feasible. Leaning briefly against a wall, I looked up at the sky shrouded in thick black smoke and let out a crooked smile.
Wait a minute, there actually was one role I could perform perfectly well.
A nobleman.
Any other kind of act might fail, but impersonating a nobleman was something ordinary imperial subjects could never hope to imitate.
Just one look and everyone could tell.
Whether people earned their positions through effort or simply possessed them from birth, once they rose to a certain status, they always wanted to distinguish themselves from those below.
The best example of this was the etiquette of the imperial nobility.
It was the set of manners they never observed when dealing with those beneath them, but always upheld strictly when speaking among themselves.
That way, they could weed out any upstart parvenus trying to imitate nobility and crush the spirit of any newly elevated houses.
I used the public telephone set up at Saint Deville Station to call Spring Parsley.
You lunatic. Do you have any idea how much it costs to use a public phone? You better have a good reason for calling.
Kairus quickly explained the situation and his plan to Spring Parsley, then followed up with his requests.
First, I need good clothes.
I figured. You’re planning to pose as a nobleman.
Strictly speaking, since I was born and raised in the House Featherwing, me posing as a nobleman wasn’t really an act.
It was simply returning to who I had been in the past.
In any case, as Spring Parsley said, it was impossible to pretend to be a noble in my current outfit.
Good clothes, and in addition, something decorated with a family crest. A pocket watch would work, or glasses, a button, embroidery on a necktie pin or handkerchief—any of that will do.
A family crest, huh. Do you even know of any?
If I didn’t have something I could use, I wouldn’t be asking like this.
Though I couldn’t use the crest of House Featherwing, there were plenty of noble family crests I knew.
Spring Parsley responded with a tone that sounded a bit doubtful.
Most of what you remember is from ages ago. Isn’t it possible those crests have changed without you knowing?
No chance. The nobles of the Valorn Empire stake their lives on the principle of ancestral succession.
Hearing this, Spring Parsley let out a puzzled noise.
He probably didn’t know. Judging by that, he must not have been from the Valorn Empire, or at least hadn’t belonged to a noble house.
The principle is that you must preserve and uphold the traditions established and practiced by your ancestors.
Spring Parsley gave a short snort at my words.
Ah, I think I’ve heard something like that. Those so-called imperial nobles have dozens of utensils just for eating, don’t they?
Well, there are families like that, yes.
If you weren’t from the Valorn Empire—or even if you were an imperial subject but not a noble—most people couldn’t grasp the principle of ancestral succession.
But I knew exactly why such a principle had been established.
Still, are you sure that’s really so important? When big money is on the line, people throw away their pride and manners.
I let out a small groan. It was precisely because of that big money that nobles obsessed over the principle of ancestral succession.
The older and more illustrious a house is, the more immense the legacy their ancestors built up over countless generations.
I suppose that makes sense.
And there were just as many countless distant relatives, or swindlers claiming to be descendants of the house, who coveted that legacy.
If someone managed to worm their way in and be acknowledged as a descendant even once, they’d gain such an enormous fortune that they could spend the rest of their life doing nothing. It would be stranger if nobody tried.
To possess the legacy of an ancestor, you’d need proof that your house was the rightful successor to that ancestor, wouldn’t you?
So that ancestral succession or whatever you call it serves as that proof?
Exactly. You catch on quick.
Possession of an ancestor’s inheritance went to the family that best maintained that ancestor’s traditions.
It sounded reasonable enough in theory… but this principle also produced some astonishing situations.
There was even an incident where a house that laid hybrid roses at their ancestor’s grave lost their entire fortune and ended up destitute, because a collateral branch claimed the original roses had been heirloom varieties.
That collateral line’s claim that the ancestor’s grave had always been decorated with heirloom roses was accepted.
After hearing about that case, Spring Parsley realized for certain that imperial nobles weren’t just conservative old fools clinging to tradition out of habit.
So the family crest is something they absolutely cannot change.
It’s not just that they can’t change it. Using that principle is actually the easiest way to seize another family’s wealth.
If you could lose everything just by laying the wrong kind of rose on a grave, imagine trying to change your crest outright.
Only a lunatic would ever attempt it.
To put it bluntly, in purely economic terms, it was the fastest way to fall into ruin, just like what happened to the House Featherwing.
This call’s gone on long enough, but anyway, the point is there’s no way the family crest has changed, so all you have to do is prepare exactly what I told you.
Kairus checked the time and quickly listed out the rest of his requests.
Got it. I’ll prepare it all as fast as I can and send it over.
Yeah, I’m counting on you.
He hung up right away and looked at the fee he owed.
Because of that call, he had to pay a staggering sum of 98 Pyint.
Good grief. Why is it so expensive?
Even if phone lines were scarce, this was daylight robbery.
It was truly impressive that Spring Parsley had managed to get a telephone installed in his own home. Though he’d simply said, You just pay and wait your turn.
Kairus could well imagine how much money and time it must have taken.
The only people who could have multiple phones installed and use them freely were probably the city’s Operations Committee, if not higher.
After all, six years ago, even the House Featherwing hadn’t considered putting in such a device. Even now, with the laws relaxed, setting up a phone line was still no easy feat.
Well, maybe someday people would carry telephones around in their pockets.
Like a pocket watch.
With that idle thought, Kairus let out a quiet laugh, then began recalling everything about the noble house he planned to impersonate.
The crest and the proper greetings, the order of the courses at meals, the things you absolutely had to bring to the table...
If you’re not smart, you can’t even pretend to be a nobleman.
To remember all this, you obviously needed a good head. When I was little, I had cried all night trying to memorize this endless flood of information.
Back then, I thought it was hell. But now, looking back, there was no place more like heaven.
In the case of the House Featherwing, it was even harsher, because if you were designated as the heir, you were also expected to have exceptional swordsmanship skills on top of everything else.
Kairus rented a room in a cheap inn near the station and began taking even greater care to conceal his identity.
For now, it didn’t matter, but once Spring Parsley’s delivery arrived, he would have to become a nobleman. If he went around in these shabby clothes and showed his face everywhere, he’d ruin the act later.
One Mutt Stew.
With a battered hood pulled over his head, Kairus went to a street stall restaurant near the inn and placed his order.
The man stirring the massive cauldron with a shovel gave Kairus a look up and down before speaking.
One and a half Pyint.
Kairus nodded, then handed over a one-Pyint note and a coin worth half a Pyint.
After checking the money, the man scooping the cauldron filled a tin bowl with the contents and held it out to Kairus.
Mutt Stew. I can’t believe this actually exists.
It was a dish I’d only ever heard about from other prisoners in the labor correctional facility. Simply put, it was a stew where they dumped in whatever they could find and boiled it for an absurdly long time.
No one ate it because it tasted good. It was something you ate just to fill your stomach cheaply. Even with the bowl piled high, it only cost one and a half Pyint.
Besides, in my case, thanks to my Death Sac filtering out harmful substances, I didn’t have to worry about food poisoning and could fill my empty belly without concern.
After finishing the meal quickly, I stood up and went to check the place where Spring Parsley said he would store the requested items.