Doing Lord Duties

The mountain of reports on my desk seemed to grow taller the longer I stared at it. Sebas had dutifully compiled every document, ledger, and complaint filed during my absence. And after reading just a fraction of them, one thing became painfully clear:

"This town is a goddamn nightmare."

I picked up the first report, my cold fingers trembling with disbelief.

Report 1: The Case of the Stabby Cattle Thieves

Report: "A woman was stabbed 17 times after allegedly stealing a neighbor's prized goat. The accused claims the goat was 'asking for it' by 'looking too tasty.' The victim survived but has since formed a militia with her cousins. Three houses burned down in the ensuing 'negotiations.'"

Sebas's Annotation: "The goat was later recovered. It has been living in the town square and biting children. The people have named it 'The Mayor.'"

I put my head in my hands. "What is this... Why is there always a goat?"

Report 2: The 'Justice' System

Report: "A known murderer, previously convicted of drowning a man in a tavern over a gambling debt, was pardoned after paying a 'judicial fee' of 10 gold coins to the magistrate. The victim's family was given 2 copper pieces as 'compensation.'"

Sebas's Annotation: "The murderer celebrated by immediately drowning another man. He has since joined the town guard."

I stared at Sebas. "He joined the guard?"

Sebas nodded. "Promoted to captain last month, my lord."

"WHAT."

Report 3: The Tax Collector's Creative Accounting

Report: "The eastern district has not paid taxes in six months. When questioned, the tax collector admitted he 'forgot' to collect them because he was busy building a personal casino in his basement."

Sebas's Annotation: "The casino is thriving. He has been using tax funds as poker chips."

I groaned. "Is anyone in this town not embezzling something?"

Sebas thought for a moment. "The goat seems honest."

Report 4: The Dungeon 'Tourism' Scam

Report: "Adventurers are being charged 50 silver to enter the dungeon, despite it being free by royal decree. The fee collector claims it's a 'convenience charge' for 'not dying immediately.'"

Sebas's Annotation: "The fee collector is the same man who was previously arrested for selling 'dragon insurance' (there are no dragons)."

I threw the report across the room. "This town is a den of vipers!"

Sebas picked it up and neatly placed it back in the pile. "To be fair, my lord, the vipers' union has also filed a complaint about unfair working conditions."

"Jesus..."

Then, I found it.

The report that broke me.

"Sebas. Why does this say 'Annual Puppy-Kicking Festival' is tax-deductible?"

Sebas scanned the document. "Ah. That would be Magistrate Borlock's doing. He argued it 'boosts morale.'"

I stood up so fast my chair exploded. "THAT'S IT. WE’RE FIXING THIS TOWN. STARTING NOW."

Sebas bowed. "Shall I prepare the execution warrants?"

"NO. Well. Maybe. But first—" I grabbed my sword. "We’re paying a visit to the 'Mayor.'"

Somewhere in the distance, a goat bleated ominous.

***

I left the manor in Lina’s hands, praying she wouldn’t reduce it to rubble before my return. Dressed in my black armor, I made my way back to town with Sebas trailing behind me like a silent shadow.

The guards at the gate barely acknowledged me now, their eyes glazed with the same mix of boredom and resignation as before.

I’m still your lord, you know…

The town greeted me with the same dismal sight as last time, perhaps worse.

Gone were the bustling fantasy market scenes I might’ve imagined. Instead, a few scattered, dilapidated stalls limped along the streets, barely holding themselves together. Their owners looked just as battered, selling whatever scraps they could to keep breathing another day.

And the people… they weren’t much better. Their eyes were filled with something I couldn’t quite place. Spite? Envy? Something sour and heavy clung to the air. I wasn’t used to this look, was this how people treated each other in this world?

I caught glimpses of armed figures loitering at the edges of the square, adventurers, perhaps, with the kind of flashy armor and oversized weapons you’d expect from storybooks. But before I could indulge in the familiar fantasy, my attention was snapped elsewhere.

A man, an adventurer from the look of him, had a woman by the wrist. She was limp, barely able to stand, wincing as he twisted her arm tighter.

“Heh, c’mon,” the man slurred, his breath thick with alcohol. “Let’s take this somewhere more private, yeah? Have a little fun.”

The group of his companions jeered and catcalled from nearby. One of them laughed, calling out, “Hey, go easy on her, will ya?”

“Sir?” Sebas’s voice broke through my rising tension. His tone was as level as ever. “Is something wrong?”

I hesitated. My fists clenched unconsciously.

Couldn’t he see what was happening?

I glanced back at the scene. The woman’s head lolled as the man dragged her towards a shadowed alley. Her eyes were open, but empty.

I glanced at the passersby. Some noticed the scene but turned away quickly, pulling their cloaks tighter. Others averted their eyes, walking faster.

I scanned the street again, hoping someone, anyone—would step in. Just then, a pair of town guards sauntered by. For a fleeting moment, I felt a surge of relief.

But instead of intervening, they chuckled, casting a glance at the struggling woman and the drunk. Then they simply kept walking, leaving behind a cloud of dust and the echo of their laughter.

Something inside me snapped.

What the fuck?

I stepped forward, each stride punctuated by the rising pulse of anger pounding in my ears.

Why the hell isn’t anyone doing anything?

Bystanders parted around me like water, murmuring and shaking their heads. I reached the man and the woman, close enough now to see his flushed cheeks, his dazed, drunken eyes.

“Huh? Who the hell are you?” he slurred, his grip tightening on the woman’s wrist.

“Let her go,” I said, my voice low but clear. “She’s clearly in no state to be dragged around like this.”

The man scoffed. “Mind your business, hero.”

“It is my business.” I straightened, my voice rising just enough to carry over the murmurs of the onlookers. “Let her go. Now.”

Behind me, I felt the shift as one of the man’s companions started to move closer.

“Hey, buddy, don’t get cocky—”

Before he could lay a hand on me, Sebas appeared beside him in a blink, his hand clamping down like an iron vice on the man’s wrist.

The drunkard squinted at Sebas’s uniform and smirked. “Oh, so you’re some rich kid, huh? You fancy this wench? How ‘bout I let you borrow her, eh? For a pric—”

That was the last thing he said.

I drove my fist into his face with a satisfying crack, the blow snapping his head to the side so hard I half-expected it to come off entirely.