Глава 8

Hui-chieh:

If memory serves me correctly, and I don't trust it to, the old man's name was Ivan Iziaslav.

A very common name. And he was the sort of peasant farmer you could find anywhere.

But he sacrificed himself. For a whole mess of reasons, he gave his own life...

I think about it every now and then. Am I truly worth people sacrificing their lives?

Alina went with me. She was gentle most other times, but would suddenly just come out with venomous tongue-lashings. That made me uncomfortable, to say the least.

The plan was proceeding smoothly.

In accordance with my own ideas, rapidly, the Infected of this place would surely unite as one.

I hoped it would be effective.

And I hoped it would be enough for the old man to rest peacefully. Aside from the old lady, no-one else had been closer family to me.

February 7th

Third year without the Black Snake

Sir, I'm...

Whatcha here for? Don't like the look of your clothes. Some old vet, are you?

Get lost! There's nothing even left here. You lot stole it, all of it! And what you couldn't steal, you burned!

Bastards! You came to kill me? Kill me, then! Goddamned demons!

No, sir, I'm here to tell you that the Infected Patrol Unit is sweeping this area today.

Then let 'em sweep! Let 'em kill us all, why don't you!

We built our pathetic, unlivable village all the way out here, and they still come for us! What else can we do but let 'em!?

Sir. You can hide yourselves, and I'll talk to them. Or I can conceal myself...

And who're you? I always said, you military noble bunch, no matter what you pretend! You're all just out for our lives—

Hah, you're not quite their sort. You actually talk with us! And they think we're barely even worth whipping!

Huh? Hello?

Gone...?

What kind of stunt is this? Oh... damn us all...

Damn us all. What a pathetic ending.

It's no bad thing to know your own damnation.

Ah... Mr. Patrolman...

...Destitute and lousy. Bad physique. You wouldn't be much use even if we sent you to the mines.

How do you want to die, then? Painlessly? Slowly?

...Mr. Patrolman! Look at me... what harm would leaving me alive do you?

You say that with a weapon in your hand?

...Sorry, Mr. Patrolman! This was for whoever that was just a minute ago! I don't know where she's gone now, but...

Even burdenbeasts are worth more than you Infected. They can at least move goods. Your existence is a waste of His Majesty's land!

Why is that?

Where did you come from?

From far, far east.

What the hell are you...? You, are you Infected too?

I am.

I can think. I can speak.

We Infected live and die. Why should you decide when and how?

What is this bullshit?!

If you could let us die peacefully on our own terms, we'd hardly even be upset about it...

But, my Infected brother, look up at him! Look at his face, his grin, his laugh!

They want to decide our fates. Control us. Perhaps our lives aren't worth much, but do you think you'd be worth a single gold coin?

You!

My brother, in all their past outrageous acts, have they ever spared someone for their conduct? Have they ever let another live for following instructions?

They have not! Each time they let you live, it was only because they still saw worth they could squeeze from you!

With no money and no land left, they'd kick you to the floor. After all, the cities don't even give Infected the chance to live!

How should we Infected live? How should we die? That is for us to decide!

But... who are you?

You good-for-nothing! Tell me your name at once!

In the name of the Emperor! For daring to lead his citizenry astray with these ludicrous ideals, we sentence you to death!

To my brothers, I have no name. Refer to me how you wish. If you must call me something, you may call me Talulah.

To my enemies, you have no need for my name.

But my fires will set you alight.