Chapter 204: Even If We All Die
Sarcho decided to meet up with Dain separately because although it wasn’t certain, they suspected that the Fang agents were suspicious of the true nature of the attack on Sarcho. So Sarcho believed it was necessary to act cautiously, and Dain agreed.
They met again in a vagrant village on the outskirts of the city. Groups of wanderers, or vagrants, had been there for a long time, and some even said all species had existed as vagrants since ancient civilizations. Apart from that, vagrants were always seen as outcasts and often suppressed for being perceived as threats. They mainly earned money by selling crafts or fortune-telling, or they were hired for one time physical labor jobs.
Among the buildings carelessly put up with wooden boards, Sarcho said, “Do you live here?”
“Yes.”
Dain raised her right hand. “Because my hand is like this, there’s no place that accepts me, and I couldn’t afford rent.”
“I have money for you to find a place in Shubanel.”
“That’s not why I called you.”
Embarrassed, Sarcho fell silent.
Dain invited Sarcho into her shabby abode—it might be too generous to even call it that. Only a thin board separated it from the neighboring house, and there was no distinction between the ceiling and the roof. The soil floor was also wet from the rain of the day before.
“You said you want to help the revolutionaries, right? Properly this time?”
“…Yes.”
“Do you have a plan?”.𝒎
Sarcho replied, “How many revolutionaries are there in the city besides you?”
Dain lightly tapped the table constructed with one leg and nails.
“Be quiet. I can’t tell you until I trust you completely.”
“…Alright.”
Seeing Sarcho’s disappointed face, Dain said, “I’ll only say the situation isn’t good. We’re restructuring the revolutionaries’ network. Those previously involved are being watched by Fang, so they can’t be approached easily. I thought they would participate in the revolution again some day…but most are scared.”
“But there are people like you, Dain.”
“…Yes.”
Sarcho said, “I know some newspaper reporters. They have access to the temple, and a few are close to me.”
“They wrote the articles about you, didn’t they?”
“The Order occasionally receives revelations from the Angry One. Just as many reporters come and go as there are at the city hall.”
“So?”
Sarcho said, “I will tell them to write the truth.”
“The truth?”
“That the revolutionaries are not rebels, but just factory workers among us…”
Dain snorted. “Do you think any of those reporters would care about that truth? You think they’d risk their lives for such a cause?”
Sarcho was silent for a moment. “…I can threaten them.”
“What?”
“Each newspaper is different, but for morning newspapers, the order goes to the printing house in the early morning. There aren’t many people at such printing houses. Replacing one article isn’t impossible.”
“You think the guards will just let that happen?”
As Sarcho reached into her pocket, Dain tensed up for a moment. What Sarcho pulled out was a crumpled piece of paper. She unfolded it to reveal a map of Shubanel with numbers and what appeared to be a route scribbled by Sarcho.
Then Sarcho said, “The night patrol routes of the guards are fixed and almost always consistent. Not all, but some printing houses are on the outskirts of the city, mostly off the guards’ patrol routes. We should be cautious of the Fang agents, but according to our high priest, most of them have left Shubanel because they believe the city to be cleared. I can even go alone.”
Dain blankly stared at Sarcho.
“You were really going to do it, weren’t you?”
“Yes.”
Dain examined the map carefully while listening to Sarcho’s plan. It wasn’t one backed up by nothing but enthusiasm. The map showed cold, calculated planning. It seemed doable.
Dain then shook her head. “No.”
“No?”
“Even if it’s successful, we don’t know how the public will react. There will be immediate information control.”
As Sarsho lowered their head in disappointment, Dain added, “…But, if combined with another plan, it might be useful.”
“Another plan?”
“So far, successful revolutions often had the Empire’s involvement. The most famous being the Rubeil slave labor camp, which involved outside supporters from the Empire.”
Sarcho replied, “…I’d prefer not to rely on them if possible.”
“I’ll say the same. Relying on external forces undermines the purity of the revolution. The more you lean on external forces, the more people will resist. Then the number of people willing to join the revolution would also decrease… What I’m trying to say is, along with external support, the revolutionaries themselves must also be deeply invested and ready to act at any time.”
“You’re talking about working on both the inside and outside.”𝑖.𝑐ℴ𝑚
Dain nodded. “Yes. To do so, there must be an environment in which people can rally behind our cause. Simply informing people of the truth isn’t enough to move them. People need to be ready to accept that truth.”
“You’re talking about the network you mentioned earlier.”
“Exactly.”
“How do we…go about that?”
Dain said, “…That’s the problem. We need to persuade each person, and we need to do it without being detected by those who oppose us… We’ve already failed once, and we might fail again. A second failure might be the end.”
“….”
“Do you think you can do it? It will become a thing of the past. You’ve already taken a bullet from me. I don’t think you’ve fulfilled your responsibility yet…but you don’t need to forcefully jump into this. That would rather bother us.”
Sarcho looked up. “Dain. A year ago, I never imagined I’d be having this kind of conversation. But now I’m here. I’ve been wondering what changed me.”
“Was it Garil’s death that changed you? Sympathy? Or the truth that only you know and others don’t?”
“All of it seems right. But there’s something that can’t be explained by sympathy and truth alone.”
“What is it?”
Sarcho made an awkward smile. “I don’t really know. But I want to get involved to find out. If you and the revolutionaries agree, that is.”
Dain slightly nodded. She understood what Sarcho was saying. Even Dain didn’t know why she was doing all of this. This was not going to help her survive, nor was there any guarantee of happiness. It was no different from gamblers casting dice. Sometimes Dain thought this was just a struggle towards self-destruction, no different from suicide, but as Sarcho had said, there was something unexplainable about it.
“Okay, come along, comrade.”
While Dain rallied the workers, Sarcho did what they could by strengthening personal relationships with newspaper reporters, and at the same time, drawing out stories about crimes that were continuously overlooked within Shubanel. At first, everyone felt awkward or uneasy discussing it, but once they were full from delicious food and drunk from alcohol in a private setting, they spoke without filter. Through this, Sarcho learned about the criminal acts committed by the nobles and factory owners. Sarcho was able to find out about the close relationship between real estate prices in Shubanel, factory owners, and loan sharks.
A reporter, drunk to the point that their nose was red, said, “I mean, Priest, listen. It’s easy to manage the complaints of the workers. First, let’s say you listen to some of the workers’ demands. Maybe reduce their working hours by an hour. But then, around the same time, nobles who own properties raise the rent. The cost of living becomes tight, so workers borrow money from loan sharks. They can’t repay the debt, right?
“So a few workers who are in debt ask for a raise. Then the factory owners argue that they’ve already given what was asked for, and then the workers plead to increase their working hours. The factory owners get angry, asking why they are now reversing things back to how they were before, and make them work even more than before.”
Sarcho said, “Does nobody think that’s…a problem?”
The reporter replied, “Those who should know, do know. They ain’t called slaves outright, but being a laborer is no different from being a slave. In some respects, it’s even worse than being a slave. A slave has a direct relationship with their owner. And the issue could be resolved by simply killing the owner.
“A laborer, on the other hand, is intertwined in the entire societal system, so killing one person won’t resolve anything. Think about it, if a laborer kills a factory owner, does the factory disappear? Another factory owner would just purchase it. That’s all. Class used to be unstable in the past, but modern class structures are way more solidified. They aren’t easily shaken.”
Such drinking sessions weren’t only beneficial for Sarcho. The next morning, the reporters would wake up with pounding headaches, vaguely recalling the conversations from the previous night. Then they would go in and out of the city hall, enjoy meals offered by the nobles and accept bribes from factory owners, and then they would occasionally remember the things they had said.
Some reporters grew uncomfortable around Sarcho due to the probing questions and avoided Sarcho. However, some genuinely enjoyed Sarcho’s drinking sessions. They pondered whether their alcohol-induced confessions were, in fact, their true innermost feelings, or articles they wanted to write but never did.
Meanwhile, Sarcho continued the personal investigations into how the capitalists oppressed the laborers and accumulated their illegal and unethical fortunes. All this information was relayed to Dain, who then used it to rally workers.
With Sarcho’s information being based on clear evidence rather than simple rumors, it more than convinced Dain’s comrades, but actually made them directly confront their future uncertainties and pains, enlightening them to the fact that the injustices inherent in the societal structure were not due to their personal failures.
Dain’s challenge was to somehow calm and hide these rising flames from within. Now, the people had come to understand the injustices, question why they couldn’t live happily, recognize that there was no real difference between the Tailless and Full Tailed, and struggle with the unacceptable idea that they suffered because of the defeats their Tailless ancestors faced.
Print shop workers covertly printed pamphlets, newsboys handed out the pamphlets while selling newspapers, carpentry workshops made picket signs, textile mills snuck out extra fabrics, and dye factories smuggled out dyes.
However, Dain was resolute that it wasn’t time to move yet. Even though her comrades were eager to, they had to wait for the right moment to create a larger impact. Sarcho also agreed. And there was another issue. Dain believed that it was dangerous for the previous revolutionary faction to gather as a single group, so she planned for individuals to create their own factions, and within those factions, further sub-factions would be formed.
Due to this small organizational group structure, even within the revolutionary group, the exact number of true revolutionaries could not be precisely measured. Ultimately, they would only find out how big they had gotten when as many members as possible showed themselves on the appointed day. They did not pick a special event as before. Instead, they aimed for a typical day when the guards, Fang, and soldiers would be less vigilant.
The revolutionaries in small groups cautiously shared the date of action. Sarcho informed Dain through the central temple that miraculously, the date remained unknown to outsiders.
Dain anxiously said, “Perhaps our numbers will be less than during the first protest.”
“Comrade, don’t worry. If we can show that those who regretted how things turned out back then can rise again, even if this protest turns into a failure, it provides hope that someone else will rise once more in the future. That alone has meaning.”
Dain agreed.
On the morning of the D-day, Sarcho stood in the street aiming for a protest similar to before. Dressed in priestly robes, Sarcho held the largest picket sign possible.
All races are equal.
It was a sign with the banner of equality roughly written on it.
The goal of this protest was to advocate for workers’ rights and equality, and just like before, they planned to march peacefully. Sarcho wore priestly attire, staking their status as a priest. This was to convey that the protesters were not apostates.
An important point was that Sarcho themself had not yet found direct evidence to prove that the Angry One did not support equality.
‘Perhaps our voices are too small for the Angry One to have noticed.’
Then almost simultaneously, Dain appeared with her comrades.
The revolution is not over.
Is a tail a right?
Remember the blood of unification day.
Each individual emerged with their own slogan written on their pickets and bands around their heads.
Dain said, “Is this all for now?”
“Let’s wait a little longer.”
At that moment, a familiar face came running to Dain.
“Comrade Dain!”
“What happened?”
“People have mistakenly gathered at the square already.”
“What? There will be many people at the square… Call them here first.”
“No, you should go there yourself.”
Dain and Sarcho exchanged glances and quickly walked over there.
There was a crowd gathered in the square. There were as many people as there had been during the unification day event.
Dain then said with suspicion, “What is this? What’s going on?”
“Comrade Dain, get it together. These people were all waiting for you. There were so many of them that they couldn’t gather on the streets, so they gathered here.”
As Dain and her group approached, the murmuring crowd saw her and lightly cheered. With a flushed face, Dain walked to the center of the square.
Everyone had a booklet tucked into their shirt pockets. They were all members of the revolutionary faction.
Someone mumbled, “There must be over 5,000 people.”
“5,000? Are you kidding? Even if only half of this square is filled, that’s 10,000!”
Sarcho then said, concerned, “With so many gathered…what should we do, comrade?”
“For now, it’s a good thing. We should move to the city hall square as planned, but first, have the people focus.”
Dain, who was taken aback for a moment, regained her composure and shouted from the podium, “Fellow workers! Nice to see you. My name is Dain. I lost my hand in a factory accident and was thrown out since no factory would hire me. You may not all know me, but in one way or another, everyone might have a friend or acquaintance who has been through something similar. In that sense, we can all be comrades.”
Dain talked of the rights that workers inherently deserved, explained how the entire system was built upon the foundation of the aristocratic distinction between Full Tailed and Tailless, and revealed that the nation’s authorities had no intention of fixing such an unjust system.
When Dain spoke, everyone stayed silent, and when she finished, they shouted in agreement.
Dain then talked about the bloody suppression during the previous unification day protest.
“That day, we failed. We lost many comrades, and so did I. This fact was hidden, and the city officials named them traitors, evil ones who clung to the Empire. But we know the truth.”
Dain stomped her foot.
“That’s right. We know the truth. They were our friends, colleagues, husbands, wives, children, and parents. Yet they returned to us not only as a handful of blood, with their honor shattered. We lived on, keeping the truth suppressed even though we knew it.”
Sarcho saw some in the crowd shedding tears, while others glared with clenched fists. Of course, they weren’t glaring at Dain. They were glaring at the soldiers who shot the unarmed protestors, or perhaps at their past selves, who had to suffer in silence.
“But no more. We will no longer remain silent. We will reveal this truth to everyone.”
As soon as Dain finished her speech, leaflets were distributed. As planned by Sarcho, they were newspapers printed from the printing house. The front page of the newspaper had an article about the unification day protest and its behind-the-scenes story.
There were several guards at a distance, but they didn’t dare approach. They hesitated, wondering what to do next.
When Dain suggested moving from the central square to the city hall square, everyone agreed.
Stepping down from the podium, Dain tapped Sarcho on the arm.
“Lead the chant.”
“You mean…me?”
“Your voice is loud. Do it.”
Sarcho looked hesitant.
“H…how should I say it?”
“You’re one of us. Say what needs to be said.”
“Oh, okay.”
Sarcho nodded, then rolled up their sleeves and walked forward. Although some murmured at the sight of Sarcho in priest’s robes, the simple fact that Sarcho stood next to Dain seemed to make them trust Sarcho.
Sarcho shouted aloud, “All people are equal!”
The crowd echoed, “ALL PEOPLE ARE EQUAL!”
For Sarcho, it was an experience like no other. Sarcho wasn’t alone in this crowd. It wasn’t just Sarcho’s voice. It was everyone’s.
Sarcho led the crowd and loudly chanted, “Tails are not rights!”
“TAILS ARE NOT RIGHTS!”
From the second and third floors, windows opened, and people looked down at the protesters. Some murmured among themselves, while others gestured for those inside to come and look at the protestors. Some were waving pamphlets, and Sarcho recognized them as the pamphlets of the revolutionary faction. Soon, a few people ran out from their homes.
“Even if we all die!”
“EVEN IF WE ALL DIE!”
Sarcho shouted their throat raw, and tears welled up in Sarcho’s eyes, threatening to fall.
“The revolution does not end!”
“THE REVOLUTION!”
The crowd roared back.
“DOES NOT! END!”
𝑖.𝘤ℴ𝘮