"..."
Right, with Ouroboros's personality, there's no way he could write it, and the Aurora Order's full of naive beauties. The task naturally fell to Medici.
After all, "grumpy" is more reliable than "brainless" Or "airheaded."
But Alaric figured this was probably Medici's first time tackling such paperwork. His irritation mirrored a student scrambling to finish a thesis, likely squeezing out words one by one.
He could write, sure, but he definitely didn't want to.
"Poor guy." Alaric said, giving Medici a pitying look. Back in the day, this kind of clerical work would've been handled by professionals... Sasrir or Herabergen in the Sun God's era, or the True Creator's team during the Solomon Empire, with plenty of talent to spare. Medici just had to focus on fighting.
Now, with the smart ones gone, the Red Angel had to carry the flag.
The thought of Medici handling most of the reform's practical and paperwork duties made Alaric feel a twinge of sympathy.
Reform wasn't simple. It wasn't like an external invasion where the Ancient Sun God could just wipe out all enemies. He could pummel the Seven Gods, force angel families like the Augustuses to issue new policies, but what good would that do?
People accustomed to exploitation wouldn't change just because of a new law. They might not even take it seriously. And the oppressed wouldn't easily trust those policies either.
The root issue was a sick society. The biggest exploiters, like the Augustuses, were part of the problem, but they weren't the only ones. To the lowest rungs, even a factory supervisor could be an oppressor.
Could the Ancient Sun God kill them all?
Even if he pushed policies by force, he couldn't monitor the world 24/7 or reach every individual. He might change Backlund, but countless places were beyond his direct influence.
No matter how strong the Ancient Sun God was, he was just one being. Even with the Creator's faction, they were a drop in the bucket. The churches, always stretched thin by Beyonder incidents, couldn't spare manpower either.
They couldn't just ignore those incidents for the sake of reform, could they?
Relying solely on them wouldn't change the world. The Ancient Sun God's strength was a powerful asset, but the people's own power was key.
For effective reform, the oppressed had to rise, learn to resist, and take control of their fates. They needed to know their exploiters weren't dealing with docile lambs... only then would the oppressors fear and relent.
The Ancient Sun God could help them stand, shield them from upper-level pressure, teach them to wield power and weapons, and give them courage. But he couldn't stand for them.
People had to become their own saviors to find true light.
And that required immense effort, starting with guiding their mindset.
Reform didn't end with uprising. Reconstruction after destruction was harder... ensuring people's livelihoods, creating a positive societal cycle, all of it needed consideration.
That's why Alaric refused to directly join the reform... it was too much hassle. Leave it to the pros!
He was fine nudging from the sidelines or lending muscle when needed, but nothing more.
"What's with that look?" Medici snapped, growing more irritated at Alaric's blatant pity.
"Just trying to offer a little help." Alaric said, blinking innocently, his expression unwavering.
"Hah?" Medici raised an eyebrow, twirling his pen. His red eyes fixed on Alaric. "What, the guy who deserves to be strung up on a lamppost finally grew a conscience?"
"You know that meme? Did the Sun God teach you?" Alaric looked at Medici, slightly surprised, then huffed. "And what's this about conscience? I've always been a very ethical businessman."
"Tch!" Medici clicked his tongue, unable to argue. As much as he loved his sarcasm, even the Red Angel had to admit Alaric was decent enough.
He shot Alaric a look. "Alright, what's your angle?"
"Just recommending you an assistant." Alaric said, nudging the curious, gossip-eating Klein forward. "You're writing speeches, right? Sherlock could offer some input."
Turning to Klein, Alaric added, "Sherlock, you don't mind giving Red a few pointers on the reform, do you?"
Klein blanked for a moment, then nodded. "I don't mind helping, but while I have some experience, it's probably just for reference…"
He genuinely didn't mind aiding the reform... it was something anyone with a sense of justice wouldn't refuse. But Klein wasn't an expert, just someone with a bit of knowledge from school and armchair theorizing.
His experience couldn't directly apply to Loen's society... different contexts meant it could only serve as a rough guide.
"Him?" Medici's gaze landed on Klein, skepticism written all over his face.
It wasn't that he looked down on the kid, but this kind of work required real expertise. If Medici hadn't followed the Sun God, he wouldn't have understood the kind of world his Lord wanted or how to achieve it.
"Give it a shot. It won't take much time." Alaric said, then pivoted. "But since he's helping, he'll need compensation. Sherlock's got his own stuff to do... he can't work for free."
With Rosago's bizarre plans derailed, likely never to challenge Klein again, Alaric figured he'd make it up to him. Helping Medici with speeches was a solid way to earn a living.
***
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