Disc 2: Land of Castles and the Lion. Ch. 7: I'm A Human

Pretty Anarchy Emerald, Black Tongue and Western Land Slave were behind him. Word of his awakening had spread quickly, and they were the first to find out. But before catching up on everything that had happened while he was underground, there was something he needed to do.

“Take me to that son of a bitch.”

The Valley representatives let them through without resistance, and he came face to face with the Man in the Center. Without a word, he kicked him in the groin—over and over—until his own legs went numb. Thankfully, the bastard didn’t seem likely to die from the beating.

Thanks to Dark Lady’s intelligence network, it was confirmed: the Man had once been one of the richest individuals before god’s demise. As he had suspected, most of them were now in a state of artificial suspension—experiencing hundreds of thousands of years in the span of a few seconds. Details were scarce, but it was clear their minds hadn’t returned whole. Each had been touched—some more deeply than others.

Even so, the Man in the Center was the only living specimen—and not exactly cooperative.

“Listen up, you sack of garbage. You want your precious pile, right? I know you know where to find it. You’re coming with us. We’ll gag that stupid mouth of yours and you’ll walk with us in silence.”

Then came the time to reconnect with a few key people. First, he met with Suavemente Groove, who had access to resources far beyond the reach of most.

“A small gift for your service to the Harvesters. Your companions tell me it’s one of your favorite tools. If he were alive, my father would be proud of what we’re becoming.”

The mafia leader handed him a bow—not just any bow, but one taken from the corpse of a Judge. He advised against asking how it had been acquired.

Goddamn it. Couldn’t you have given me something useful for once?

His meeting with the Dark Lady wasn’t as encouraging. While it was true that people now viewed life with something more than hollow pleasure, raising an army to storm Strength wasn’t going to be easy.

“Neither a vague call to justice nor an abstract ‘we’re all going to die’ is enough.”

With the help of Ground Nebula’s father, they contacted some ex-members of the Paper Syndicate and managed to set up a small print shop to flood Stone’s Water with propaganda posters.

WILL YOU LET THE LION FORNICATE WITH YOUR GOLD?

STRENGTH BUILDS THE LARGEST BROTHEL IN THE REGION—WHAT ABOUT STONE’S WATER?

GOLD SKIN? COMPENSATING FOR SOMETHING? IS THAT YOUR EMPEROR?

THE COMMENTATOR DANCES WITH DEMONS—THE TRUE KILLER OF GOD.

They began spreading fake news and tabloid-style posters as fast as possible, stockpiling more to distribute on the road.

The economy in Stone’s Water was beginning to recover steadily. Thanks to the alliance that had been forged, a virtuous cycle emerged among the various factions these last months, just as Common Day had foreseen. Addicts now had access to safer, more manageable drugs, while the Harvesters quietly acquired better equipment in the shadows. The community’s authorities made public declarations about taking action, but in truth, they merely placed mild constraints on the mafia’s operations.

Still, I feel like something’s missing. We need something decisive to control the narrative.

It was Pretty Anarchy Emerald who came up with the idea. Years ago, humanity had created a visual instrument designed to instill a sense of urgency in the population, in hopes of avoiding catastrophe.

“The Doomsday Clock. I love it!”

They mounted the Doomsday Clock on the tallest building in Stone’s Water. From that moment on, it served as a reminder that the end was drawing near. But people didn’t look at it with fear of a certain death, nor with the desperation to experience everything in a frenzy of meaningless living.

“I just hope those bastards in Strength get screwed before us,” was what people said aloud as they walked past the clock.

Everything was in place to launch an assault expedition on Strength, designed to gather more supporters along the way. The tale of the Man from the Room—who, after sacrificing himself to save Stone’s Water and the survivors of Many Streams, now set out on a journey to rescue his beloved from the villainous Golden Shogun and reunite with his family, waiting in the westernmost community on the peninsula—began to spread.

In fact, many who had remained on the sidelines saw the trip to that distant community as a prime tourist opportunity:

“A city where you can watch the end of the world? Better book a room before it's the high season!” That was the consensus in the streets.

On the day of departure, he had decided not to say goodbye to his companions. It made no sense—after all, even if they were victorious, they were still living right on the edge.

"The first part of my life, I thought everything that mattered was in the NCCAGs and the stories of the ancients. You and Deer-chan showed me there’s more than that. I want to see it too. I’m going." Pretty Anarchy Emerald was resolute, and not even her adoptive father could do anything to stop her.

"Oh, my dear, what do you want me to say? Someone like me was never meant to stay in one place. Besides, our little friends in the Valley tell me a certain scientist may be enslaved, working for the Golden Shogun." Black Tongue was just as resolved, and she had always been a woman who did as she pleased, regardless of consequence.

"I never really cared about working for the Harvesters. And besides, every time I leave you alone, that woman kicks your ass, ha ha ha ha." Common Day wasn’t quite sure whether to feel grateful or worried about having Western Land Slave along.

Here’s the English translation for a literary novel context, adapted with U.S. conventions and tone:

The entire party set off on foot. That afternoon, Stone's Water bid them farewell with cannon blasts from tanks that could still fire—but no longer move.

Thanks to the Guild, they had enough supplies, but it would still be a long journey through the old connection system. Although each community in the Land of Castles was once linked by straight-line tunnels, many segments had been destroyed by increasingly frequent satellite rains.

“It was inevitable, really. Space beyond Earth had long been clogged with that junk. It was only natural that someday it would come crashing down on us.” Floating Man offered this observation. The theologian had joined the expedition intent on witnessing the fall of The Commentator—an ambition that brought out the least pious side of him.

The Dark Lady regretted that they couldn’t pass through her Kingdom. But there was no choice—detouring would be too dangerous. In any case, more Valley representatives joined them along the way, as well as an unexpected companion from Divination Central.

“Her name is Ms. South White, a metamage, Your Excellency. She claims she is fated to seek something, and we didn’t know what to do with her. The messengers said anyone willing to join was welcome… and, well, she’s the only one who showed up from Divination Central.” One of the Dark Lady’s underlings delivered the report nervously.

The so-called Ms. South White was a slender woman with an inquisitive gaze and beautifully straight, well-maintained black hair. What stood out most about her, however, was her complete disregard for whoever happened to be in front of her.

“Forgive my lack of manners. As this poor man said, I’m Ms. South White. As some of you may know, my brothers and sisters of Divination Central have long devoted themselves to the pursuit of knowledge. For millennia, we’ve educated scholars and professionals from around the world. Some even say the first Judges came from our halls…” The black-haired woman never stopped talking.

Something tells me Pretty Anarchy Emerald just found a new best friend.

Ms. South White joined the journey for one reason only: she was searching for the 'true, absolute black' and was willing to do whatever it took to witness it before the end of time. She apparently had another occupation before god’s demise, but like many, her life took a radical turn when she realized it now had an expiration date.

We are closer to you, I know. Wait for me, you damn, stupid demoness.