Takahashi struggled desperately. His face was a mix of fear and a lingering arrogance.
Even when he was already in this situation, he still didn't believe these commoners would dare to harm him.
He screamed hoarsely, trying to drown out the angry shouts around him. "You... you ungrateful beasts!"
"Rebellion! This is an uprising against heaven!"
He suddenly twisted his head, his small eyes, squeezed by fat, glaring viciously at the surrounding refugees.
"You ungrateful bastards!"
"If it weren't for us giving you food, you would have rotted by the roadside long ago!"
"Those useless brats, even if we left them with you, they'd just starve to death! Selling them off gives them a chance to live! It's a blessing!"
"What do you know!"
"A bunch of ungrateful..."
There were many merchants like Takahashi who, even at death's door, remained defiant.
The refugees looked at them in disbelief.
"A blessing?"
Their loved ones' eyes were filled with terror when they were forcibly taken away. Even now, they could still remember the eyes of their family members.
Every night, those eyes were like red-hot branding irons repeatedly searing their chests, reminding them not to forget. And their suffering, in the eyes of these people, was not worth mentioning.
These people saw their atrocities as benevolence. They deserved to die.
Every day and night living here was filled with torment.
The merchants, oblivious to their impending doom, spewed more words in front of the refugees.
"You should kneel and thank me!"
"If I hadn't hired a doctor to treat your daughter, she would have died long ago! I at least let her live for two more months!"
"A bunch of ungrateful wolves!"
"You ignorant commoners deserve to go hungry your whole lives!"
"If you're full, you'll cause trouble!"
"..."
A sharp ringing filled the refugees' ears.
All they could see were the merchants' mouths, opening and closing, spraying spittle. Their mouths were adorned with gold teeth, and their gazes were still condescending.
"Bastard!"
"You tortured my daughter to death!"
"..."
Countless arms swung up.
Plundered dignity, shattered hope, silent sobs in the dead of night, the helplessness of watching loved ones being taken away, the pain of losing family...
All of it converged in these raised fists.
Bang—
Bang—
Bang—
Dense fists landed on the merchants' faces and chests. The sound of bones breaking was clearly audible. Blood spurted violently from the merchants' nostrils and mouths. Blood-stained teeth flew to the ground.
The merchants' pig-like squeals turned into inarticulate whimpers. Their arrogant demeanor was gone. Their entire bodies slumped like puddles of mud. Their bodies twitched unconsciously.
The refugees clenched their fists tightly. Their knuckles were skinned, stained with blood, and sticky. Their arms trembled slightly from overexertion but they seemed to feel no pain.
They opened their mouths, unable to make a sound. Hot liquid streamed down their faces.
After an unknown amount of time, countless mournful cries finally squeezed out of their throats.
Tears overflowed madly from their eyes, washing away the dirt on their faces. Their eyes, cleansed by tears, became incredibly clear and bright.
Looking at the merchants lying on the ground, what surged in the refugees' chests was not the joy of revenge, nor the anger that wanted to burn everything, but sorrow. A sorrow that almost tore their chests apart.
No matter what they did, their departed loved ones would never return.
Terrible sorrow flowed like venom in the refugees' veins.
All their limbs and bones ached. This pain gathered in their eye sockets, turning into hot liquid that flowed out.
Finally, they could cry.
They could finally cry.
Never before had they so clearly realized that they were human, that they had come back to life. The pain and anger were so painful, so hot, yet so real.
The refugees stood surrounding the merchants, breathing heavily, looking at the writhing lumps of flesh on the ground, tears streaming down their faces.
The wind swept across the square. It could not disperse the thick hatred. It also could not disperse the burning fighting spirit.
Crying sounds sounded from beside Haruki.
"Wuwuwu..."
Yahiko sobbed, tears continuously overflowing from his eyes.
When Haruki looked at him, he immediately turned his head guiltily, and only looked back at Haruki after wiping away his tears.
"Just now... the wind blew sand into my eyes..." Yahiko said, choking back a sob.
Haruki: "..."
Did the wind blow sand into your throat too?
Haruki didn't say much. He looked at Nagato and Konan on the other side.
Nagato's expression was somewhat complex, while Konan's eyes were red.
"What are you thinking?" Haruki stared at Nagato.
Nagato was gazing intently at the group of refugees.
"I'm thinking, will they become like these people in the future?" Nagato blurted out unconsciously.
Haruki raised an eyebrow in surprise.
"No!"
"How could that be!"
Before Haruki could answer, Yahiko said firmly.
He looked at the refugees and took a deep breath. "They have experienced such pain, how could they possibly inflict such pain on others again?"
Nagato lowered his eyes.
Haruki whispered into Nagato's ear, "For refugees, they have experienced extreme deprivation, injustice, and violence. Profound trauma may cause some of them to develop extreme hatred for oppression, but some may also develop an extreme craving for power, because having deeply experienced the pain of weakness, they develop an instinctive pursuit of power that can prevent them from being victimized again, such as wealth and authority."
Nagato slowly looked up, gazing at Haruki.
Haruki looked into his eyes and said, word by word, "But Nagato, this is the meaning of our existence, the meaning of our ideals' existence."
"Our existence is to establish a peaceful order and distribute resources fairly."
"He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster. And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you."
"Ideals are the lighthouses that guide us not to fall into the abyss, and we are also the bright lights that guide them not to fall into the abyss."
Nagato stared blankly at Haruki.
"So, we must hold fast to our ideals." Haruki said to Nagato and the other two.
(End of Chapter)
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