"You... didn't happen to swap rooms with that family from earlier, did you?"
A family of three living in a small dormitory meant for four, while these four thugs occupied a relatively luxurious single room instead.
The hygiene conditions weren't much better, of course, but at least the space was ample, with a living room and kitchen. A half-finished game of cards lay on the table in the living room, while the kitchen reeked of a dual odor of dish soap and grease.
The spacious bedroom was divided into four sections by partitions. The beds were literally sawn-apart bunk beds from the dorms, the sheets equally damp and greasy. But what caught Michael's attention most were the large bags piled on the floor. Casually opening a blue bag revealed it was full of green-labeled canned goods. Opening one of the few small red bags revealed about a dozen sticks of dynamite inside.
"Explain. How did that man end up owing you money?"
"Heh heh... He didn't want to work, borrowed money from us for the exemption fee, and then couldn't pay it back..."
"Why didn't he work?"
"Oh, come on, Sir, aren't you asking the obvious? Who wants to work! Wouldn't it be better to spend that time playing games at home, sleeping?"
"Perhaps that's true for him." Michael picked up a can, weighing it in his hand. "But for you, why lend him the money in the first place? What did he use as collateral? Hmm?"
"Eh... hehehe..." The leading thug slowly opened a nearby cabinet, rummaged inside for a while, and finally produced two gold bars.
"See, these two are left. Just this much can only cover two days of exemption, but once the Honkai ends, these will be treasures!"
"So, since you already had these as collateral, why bother him again? If he couldn't repay the debt, wouldn't the collateral belong to you? No, strictly speaking, this doesn't seem like collateral, more like pawning."
"Well, that's true, but if everyone did that, our supply reserves would have been borrowed dry long ago. This gold and silver can't be eaten, and there isn't enough market demand for it right now, so debt collection is still necessary. Besides..."
"Besides?" The thugs didn't want to tell the truth, but somehow, with Michael standing there, their true thoughts just kept pouring out:
"Besides, this family is so poor now, there's no point in them existing anymore. Kill them all, the room becomes vacant, new immigrants move in, and then we can... uh..."
"What if they don't need to borrow money?"
"How's that possible... We'll drag them into gambling... Anyway, we just find ways to make them owe money. Of course, not everyone borrows, but we also collect protection fees!"
"..." Seeing the incredibly dark expression on the esteemed official's face, the leading thug felt anxious, but his mouth wouldn't stop:
"They have to give us half the supplies they earn from work, and we give half of that to the 'Floor Boss'. It's clearly priced, no cheating old or young."
I see. Logically, although D-grade supplies tasted terrible and were mostly highly processed food, they contained a decent amount of calories. With careful budgeting, a family of three with a young child could basically survive at the minimum level if the father maintained steady daily work. If the mother occasionally worked, they might even have a surplus.
But that was only on the surface. Not only was it questionable whether a D-grade ration still contained eighty percent of its original share after layers of deductions by the time it reached the grassroots, but it was then further exploited by these so-called thugs and "Floor Bosses."
If that man had worked honestly, perhaps they could have barely survived. But given the situation with that family earlier...
And according to these guys, such family situations weren't uncommon. Life was so harsh, tedious, and painful that rather than struggle, it was better to live for the moment. If debt collectors really came knocking, just throw caution to the wind.
"It's almost shift change time. If that man comes back, what do you plan to do?"
"Kill... kill him..." Michael's chest heaved rapidly, then calmed. He asked:
"Last question. Organizations like yours, do they exist everywhere?"
"We don't know about other buildings, but this one's like this. Probably two or three, maybe even just one group like ours per floor... Territories are marked out beforehand. If we're really unhappy, we fight!"
Michael closed his eyes. Images of the [Tower] replayed in his mind—
Two, or was it three, Zombie sitting around a human corpse, feasting on flesh freshly torn from it.
Hearing sounds from outside the door, the Zombie, still holding flesh, rotated their necks 180 degrees, grinning at the newcomer.
Their lips were smeared with blood, meat shreds stuck between their teeth. The corners of their mouths twitched, slowly lifting, as if smiling.
That was the most terrifying impression the previous Tower had left him.
Opening his eyes, then closing them again—*"Splat!"*
A pile of gore appeared on the ground before him. Before he could react, another dark shadow fell—
"Splat!"
Flesh and blood splattered onto his face—warm, sticky, reeking. Just thinking about it made his fingers unable to clench into a fist.
This was the current [Tower].
No Zombie, no Honkai Beasts here.
Everyone living here was human, yet it seemed something not human had mixed in.
How ironic... Michael thought silently. Perhaps the Honkai isn't a disaster for humanity, but a form of salvation, right? At least, humanity could meet a heroic, tragic end, rather than descending into irredeemable decay through filthy self-degradation.
"Alright, I have no more questions."
"Take care then, Sir!"
"Mmm, you... take care."
By the time Mei and Michael [Official Michael] finally reached the fifty-third floor via the elevator, Michael [Duplicate Michael] had finished handling everything and slowly emerged from the thugs' room.
Seeing Michael [Official Michael], Michael's [Duplicate Michael's] brow furrowed, the fire in his heart flaring up again—after all, as the City Official of Third New Heaven City, this man bore undeniable responsibility for everything happening here.
But ultimately, he refrained. No amount of anger could salvage anything. At least he and Mei had now witnessed this darkness up close. Later, if there was still time, if there was still a chance, perhaps corresponding adjustments could be made to make these people's lives a little easier.
Michael [Duplicate Michael] leaned out over the railing. From over a hundred meters below, two small dots, almost merging together without careful observation, marked the ground. Behind him, still-warm blood seeped out from under the door of the room he'd just left.
Nearly ten minutes had passed since the mother and child died. The entire building was quiet. Michael [Duplicate Michael] knew full well that not everyone was working overtime tonight. There would always be people on leave, people who paid fees and supplies for exemption. Their proportion might be small, but considering one building housed forty to fifty thousand people, even just one percent meant hundreds were still resting inside.
Perhaps they hadn't heard the dull thuds of bodies hitting the ground and flesh exploding, but the heart-wrenching cries would be hard for any ear to miss. After all, the building was enclosed; sound bounced around the space enclosed by the four corridors, finding no exit. After countless reverberations, it could only eventually seep through door cracks, into everyone's ears.
But no one made any sign. They used their not-so-thick doors to isolate themselves from the outside world. What happened outside, as long as it didn't affect their own interests and safety, was none of their concern.
"Will anyone collect their bodies?" Michael [Duplicate Michael] asked Michael [Official Michael].
"Normally, yes. Several Towers share a funeral team. After all, accidental death is quite common in times like these. Of course, when they'll arrive, or even if anyone has reported it yet, is another question."
"Then let's contact them proactively." Michael [Duplicate Michael] swallowed repeatedly, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down like a pogo stick. Leaving the bodies exposed outside wasn't good.
"...Understood. However, Mr. Michael, Dr. Mei, our next step? Continue inspecting inside this Tower, visit other Towers, or use the last two hours of overtime to check the factory situation?"
Michael's [Duplicate Michael's] breathing grew heavy. He stood rooted to the spot, taking deep breaths for a long time without responding, then turned and walked towards the elevator on his own.
Mei shook her head, trying to smooth her furrowed brow with her thumb, but no matter how hard she tried, the two eyebrows seemed glued together, refusing to separate.
The elevator took three seconds per floor; fifty-three floors required about two and a half minutes.
The spacious elevator car felt stuffy and cold. Finally, Michael [Duplicate Michael] spoke first:
"Those men earlier told me that when these rooms become vacant, new immigrants move in. What's that about?"
"Mmm?" Michael [Official Michael] pursed his lips, unsure of the significance behind Michael's [Duplicate Michael's] question—filling vacancies with new people, wasn't that normal?
No, the more normal it seemed, the more serious the underlying problem.
For example, where did these people come from? Why could they be brought in so quickly?
"Actually... not everyone gets to live in the Towers." Having said this, Michael [Official Michael] glanced sideways at Michael [Duplicate Michael] and Mei. Seeing no reaction, it seemed they had anticipated this.
"It can't be helped. After receiving immigrants, Third New Heaven City's population exceeded twenty-five million, requiring five hundred such Towers to meet housing needs... Of course, we applied for funding from HQ based on that number, but due to unavoidable losses during fund transfer, only slightly over four hundred Towers have been completed so far."
Unavoidable losses during fund transfer... isn't that just embezzlement...
"Then what happens to those who can't get into the Towers?"
"Uh... that issue has several categories. First, those willing to enter the Towers are arranged to live in air-raid shelters inside and outside the protective net. Since they don't engage in production, they only receive minimal supplies. So, a small portion of these people choose to join the military police. The rest can only wait for vacancies in the Towers...
"But not everyone is willing to accept the Tower's mandatory work system. These people either leave the United Government's supervision and survive in the world outside the protective net—
"Anyway, the scale and intensity of Honkai in the Americas are low. Ordinary people equipped with weapons aren't entirely incapable of surviving in the wild. Besides, if you seek absolute freedom, you must have sufficient courage.
"Of course, we're happy to see this happen. It's only a very small number of people anyway. Distributing their production tasks among hundreds or thousands of others won't create too much burden, and we can gladly accept the supplies allocated to them.
"The masters in the upper districts also like these types. They need weapons and equipment to survive in the wild, and I just need to report one military exercise, and the misappropriated ammunition is enough for their use for nearly a year. But to get this ammunition, they have to pay a higher price—wild plants, medicinal herbs, minerals, even acting as mercenaries for the upper district masters.
"As for the rest, if they neither want to enter the Towers nor have the courage to go outside the protective net, their only option is to go to the upper district and work in the service industry."
"Service industry..." Mei closed her eyes, trying to picture the so-called upper district. But the more she thought, the more it seemed that was the true face of the city.
Almost no production, concentrated wealth, a developed service industry, dazzling neon lights at night...
Seeing such a city amidst this desolate, dead apocalypse... Mei felt... it wasn't something to be happy about.
If some could live so freely, it must be built upon the oppression of others. As mentioned earlier, the upper district engaged in almost no production. So where did their food, clothing, housing, transportation, and the things they paid service workers with come from?
Obviously, the people living in the Towers shouldered the production work that should have been theirs.
Besides, were those who went to the upper district for service jobs really better off than those in the Towers?
"The population in the service industry is highly mobile, and replenishing this population is difficult in the upper district. So, they must..."
"Correct..." Michael [Official Michael] nodded dejectedly. "To ensure these people stay stably in their positions, preferably forever unchanged, after entering the upper district, the work contracts they sign often exceed fifty years. More than half even have contract terms lasting until death."
"How is that different from slavery!"
"There is a difference. Their next generation isn't forced to sign employment contracts... Okay, actually, there's no difference." Even slaves in the past weren't entirely without opportunities for freedom. But after being freed by their masters, these freedmen rarely left their master's protection immediately, instead continuing to serve as retainers. Some even preferred slavery to freedman status. And these supposedly 'born free' next generations were much like hereditary servants in ancient times, possessing freedom mostly in name only.
"However, it's not just limited to 'service'." Michael [Official Michael] pondered for a moment, then added:
"Many families in the upper district have also established estates outside the city's protective net, mainly cultivating cash crops like fruits and medicinal herbs. Even the most common apple can be exchanged for a half-jin beef can. Of course, it's not just cash crops; they also have factories.
"And those people I mentioned earlier who became mercenaries for the upper district families, their main duty is to act as guards for these estates and factories."
One could imagine that even as near-slaves in the upper district, the quality of life was likely significantly better than in the Towers.
However, once the Honkai was defeated, those in the Towers could quickly return to their original lives, and those surviving outside the net could be readily reintegrated. Only these slave-like existences in the upper district...
Of course, just because Mei contemplated these issues didn't mean Michael [Duplicate Michael] would. After the initial shock, after the anger subsided, boundless numbness washed over him again, pulling him under.
"Whoosh—"
The elevator doors opened, but the three hadn't yet decided on their next destination.
Suddenly, Michael's [Duplicate Michael's] ears twitched. He seemed to hear chaotic footsteps—hard and crisp; the newcomers likely wore leather boots, military police.
Soon, the corridor they had entered earlier was opened. Intense flashlight beams shot in erratically, followed by five military police officers entering in single file.
Upon seeing Michael [Official Michael], the officers froze, clearly not expecting to encounter their City Official here.
"What's the hurry? What mission are you on?" Michael [Official Michael] forced a smile, asking in his usual relaxed and flippant manner.
"Reporting to the City Official, Sir! Received a report of collective work evasion by four individuals in room 002N039 of this building. According to regulations, each person is subject to six lashes."
Michael [Official Michael] glanced towards Michael [Duplicate Michael]. The latter's reply was simple, just two words:
"Let's see."