This is...
A room he was very familiar with, the boy thought... And yet, something inexplicably felt out of place. He knew he’d lived in this room for a while, now... but he was also seeing it for the first time. It shouldn’t have been possible, but it was almost as though there were two people’s consciousnesses within him...
Something just didn’t feel right... rather, something was muddled with his memories. As he looked around the room in a daze, a sour smell suddenly pierced his senses. The boy noticed the rags he was wearing were soaked with sweat. He furrowed his brow, mind now awakened. With a deep breath, he collapsed back on the floor; he felt like lying down for a little longer. He lifted a hand to place against his forehead — but in the next moment, he gasped loudly and stared intently at his hand.
It was definitely his hand... the small hand of a seven-year-old boy. But it was... weird. There was something strange about it...
Ignoring the headache pounding in his head, the boy kicked his hazy brain back into gear.
A child’s hand...? I... Wait, I?...
Rio — that was the boy’s name. He was an orphan living in the slums of Beltrum’s capital, sworn to take revenge on a certain man. That was why he had grasped at straws to survive up until this point. That should have been the entirety of Rio’s existence...
So why did he have another person’s worth of memories? The memories of a person living in another world, in an unfamiliar civilization, with technology that he didn’t recognize...
Broken images of various scenes flashed through his mind... They seemed all-too realistic to be written off as just the imagination of a seven-year-old boy. They showed the life of a completely different person. Someone named Amakawa Haruto. According to his memories, he was a twenty-year-old university student. No — even now, Rio was living that life, as if those memories had happened to him just moments ago. A strange unsettled feeling fell over Rio, causing him to shake his head violently.
What am I thinking? Amakawa Haruto...?
The set of dual memories left Rio feeling confused. He looked down at his hands, as if he were trying to escape reality. But it wasn’t the unblemished skin of a Japanese child who grew up well provided for in the age of plenty. These were the hands of someone that was underweight from malnutrition; the skin was dry and rough and covered in a thin layer of grime.
Of course... According to his memories as an orphan, he hadn’t had a bath in ages.
Seriously...?
It was so unhygienic. Rio grimaced. The tattered clothes he wore were stiff and made of hemp, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d washed them. Of course, he didn’t have any proper socks or shoes, either... But he should be grateful he had something to wear at all, he guessed. His hair was disheveled and pretty damaged, too. But he could tell it was black in color underneath all of the filth.
“...Phew.”
Rio breathed in and out, deeply, trying to calm himself and organize his memories. He placed a hand against his mouth in thought. He was Rio... and he was apparently the university student Amakawa Haruto as well, with seven years worth of memories from living in Beltrum’s capital and twenty years worth of memories from living in Japan. But no matter how much his memories were doubled, he wasn’t Amakawa Haruto. If he were Haruto, he wouldn’t be a little boy right now, much less in a place like this. And if his memories were correct, the young man named Amakawa Haruto wasn’t even alive.
“In my memories, I died on the bus... I think?”
He remembered being on a bus that hit something, and he remembered being in extreme pain, like his limbs were torn apart. He couldn’t remember what happened after that, but it was hard to imagine recovering from something like that.
“Where am I right now...? Is this a dream? The afterlife? Was I... reborn?”
He listed off every possibility he could think of, but there was something too raw about this reality to write off everything as a dream. It was hard to imagine that this was the afterlife, too. Although... this place, while definitely not heaven, was as close to hell as it could get.
Which meant he was most likely reborn, Rio suspected. Could such a fantastical story be real? Did this Amakawa Haruto even exist? Had these memories in his head actually happened? But no matter how much he wondered, no one would tell him the answer. There was no answer. The only thing he knew for sure was that he was Rio, not Haruto.
As time passed, the different memories and personality within him confused him less and less, and Haruto’s persona merged with Rio’s. Their two different memories and personalities showed on the surface, but blended together without conflict underneath. Haruto showed up more intensely because he’d had far more life experiences, but Rio was able to accept that part of him. That was why they were able to perceive each other’s memories as their own experience and still remain sane over the situation at hand. Even so... Rio thought it best not to think too deeply about how strange it felt.
But right now, he had a bigger problem...
Rrrgghhhh. The sound of an empty stomach echoed throughout the room, and Rio came to the depressing realization that he was starving. He sighed; the hunger he felt made him feel a bit lightheaded. There were a lot of things on his mind: whether these memories of another life were real, why was he reborn if so, and why did he only get those memories now?
But Rio knew full well how futile it was to ask those questions. Instead, he shifted his thoughts to trying to break out of his dire situation. Haruto’s memories and personality played a big role in how he was thinking so calmly right now. If it had been Rio and only Rio, he would have died a dog’s death as an orphan, with no prospects for his future.
That would’ve been the worst possible outcome... and it would have been unacceptable, for Rio had a goal to fulfill. He couldn’t afford to die here.
If I die now, that man...
He recalled his deep-seated hatred for the man and gritted his teeth.
Rio’s father died shortly after his birth, and his mother was killed when he was still small. He’d lived in these dumpster-like slums ever since.
His parents were both immigrants from a faraway land. They were adventurers that planned their lives around their travels. But when Ayame, his mother, was pregnant with Rio, she temporarily withdrew from adventuring. This left the financial burden of their livelihood on Rio’s father, Zen, who was a skilled adventurer. Unfortunately, he died not long after Rio was born. Despite this, Ayame continued to raise Rio admirably; she lived a modest life and dug into her savings in order to raise her child. But their peaceful life together ended when Rio was only five years old.
Ayame was an exotic, foreign beauty. She may have had Rio, but she was still young enough to be targeted by vulgar men and their obscene looks. With the still infant Rio as a weakness, Ayame was easily swallowed up by the evil around her and brutally murdered before Rio.
He could still remember that moment as clear as day. From that point on, he swore to take revenge on the person who killed his mother, living every moment from then on for that purpose. That raison d’être remained carved into Rio’s soul even after Haruto’s memories cropped up... but now, he had Haruto’s morals, too. While he truly detested his mother’s killer with every fiber of his being, Haruto’s morals within him questioned whether revenge was a necessary evil...
But Rio’s morals and desire for revenge burned too strongly. Just the thought of that man made his emotions turn an ugly black.
Revenge is evil? What empty words...
Rio scowled, clicking his tongue in irritation at the conflicting opinion coming from within.
Just then, the door to the shack was yanked open. Rio pushed his exhausted body up so that he could look at the doorway as several men and one woman crowded into the small wooden shack.
“Hmm? Oh, Rio! Are you finally awake?” asked one of the men standing at the front of the group as he spotted Rio in the dimly-lit shack. The boy knew him.
“Huh! So you actually
survived. Thought you were a goner... Hey, boss! Rio’s still kicking! We thought he was good as dead before...” the man yelled. His eyes were wide with surprise as he directed his voice toward the back of the group, where a giant man stood over the rest.
“Ha! What a lucky brat. You were almost keelin’ over from yer fever yesterday... We were gonna toss you out if you were still sleepin’ today,” said the giant man who had been referred to as boss; he sounded impressed.
“...Yes. Somehow.” Rio replied, holding back a frown.
These men were a group of jacks-of-all-trades here in the slums. They had a large circle of influence and earned their money working as outlaws-for-hire and by taking requests for all kinds of evil activities. Human trafficking, illegal trading, robbery, swindling, extortion, transportation and disposal of stolen goods... even hit jobs. The list of crimes they were willing to get their hands dirty for was endless.
To these men, an orphan in the slums was like a convenient, disposable pawn. Easy to obtain, use, and throw away — which they often did. Rio was one such pawn that these men had picked up. He lived in this small shack with them and lived in fear of being subjected to their abuse. Sometimes they would hit him for stress relief, sometimes they would force him to assist with their crimes, using him as a scapegoat or bait while they escaped.
In a word, Rio was their slave.
But in this cruel world, his survival depended on them. In fact, he had survived until today by desperately obeying them.
“Hey, it’s cold in here. Let’s get to celebrating and warm ourselves up!” said the other underling.
He walked to the shabby wooden table in the middle of the room and placed some food and alcohol down with a thud.
“Good idea. Hey — leave that in the corner. S’been drugged to sleep, so don’t go wakin’ it up,” ordered the leader of the group of men.
One underling moved to place a sack with their spoils on the floor. Then, in high spirits, the men had the sole woman in the group pour their drinks, and they began to eat.
“But ten gold coins sure was a great haul... right, boss?”
One of the underlings cackled.
“Hmph. It’s ten gold for cargo transport. Can’t be anything decent... I doubt it’s just a slave inside. Probably some noble’s kid or something.”
“Wait, what? You lot better not be doing anything dangerous again,” the woman pouring the drinks said with a disapproving expression.
“Well... yeah.”
The giant leader yanked the woman closer to him and snorted with a smug smirk on his face.
“But ten gold coins fer a side-job like that? It’s freakin’ amazing.”
“Yeah.”
The leader took a large gulp of his alcohol and took a ferocious bite of his hunk of meat. Rio watched on from the side, swallowing his saliva hungrily. The topic of their conversation was ominous, but Rio was far more interested in the food in their hands. While it was evident they weren’t doing any decent work... if Rio had helped even a little, he would have been given something to eat. But this time around, Rio had been sleeping off his sickness, so the chance of them feeding him was extremely low. It wouldn’t happen unless they were in a really good mood...
The relationship between Rio and these men was simple: the strong and the weak, the exploiters and the exploited.
They’d shelter him as long as they could exploit him, then mercilessly throw him out once he was done. Rio had seen them do that to many other children already. While he didn’t intend on continuing their relationship forever, he was just a seven-year-old child. Only the fittest could survive on the streets of the slums, and he doubted he could live for very long out there without them. But at that very moment, the smell of the food was unbearable on his empty stomach.
I’m hungry...
It was all he could think about. He was too fatigued for anything else. Rio let the men’s conversation wash over him, only half-listening as he sat slumped in the corner of the shack, resting his body, when suddenly—
“Heeey Rio. Rio!” one of the underlings called out to Rio.
“Yes?”
“Your fever sweat stinks like crap. Go wash yourself — you’re ruining the food and drink.”
“...Okay.”
He’d hoped that they would give him food, but that was just his wishful thinking. The underling pinched his nose and made a shooing gesture with his hand. Apparently, the sweat made Rio’s body odor a lot stronger than he realized.
“I’m sorry.”
Rio bowed his head once and staggered to his feet. Although Amakawa Haruto didn’t know the man at all, Rio knew the underling very well. It was a mysterious feeling. Stumbling over his feet, Rio hobbled towards the door of the shack.
“Rio! If yer still not better, we’ll sell ya off as a slave. The only thing y’got goin’ fer ya is yer devil’s luck and pretty face, after all,” the leader said gleefully, already well on his way to being drunk. The underlings roared with laughter, as if he had said something hilarious.
“Oh, stop picking on children!”
The woman pouring the drinks chided them exasperatedly, but Rio continued walking out the door without looking back. He closed the door behind him.
“Rio.”
Rio turned back at the sound of his name being called. The door reopened immediately, and the woman who was pouring drinks stepped outside.
“Go get yourself some breakfast with this. It should be enough for some stale bread and plain broth,” the woman said, placing three small copper coins in Rio’s hand.
This woman was the prostitute the leader favored the most. She was also on amicable terms with Rio, often looking out for him like this.
“...Thank you very much, Gigi. Are you sure?”
Gigi responded with a kind smile when Rio thanked her. “Just make sure you come play with me when you’re a little older.”
“Haha...” Rio laughed awkwardly.
“I’m just kidding. I’ve told you before how I have a niece your age, right? You remind me of her, that’s all. I’m going to quit this job soon anyway,” Gigi explained with a shrug.
“I’m opening a shop with Angela, my little sister. Come visit us someday,” she said with a soft smile.
Rio had heard about that from Gigi before. Gigi and her sister, Angela, were working as prostitutes while saving to open their store. Rio intended on paying her back some day, but just as he opened his mouth to tell her so—
“You seem different today... did something happen to you?” Gigi asked with wide eyes.
“Huh? Umm... I’m not sure what you mean,” Rio answered uncertainly and tilted his head. He was startled.
“So you can make that kind of face, too. Your pretty face looks much better when it isn’t sulking,” Gigi said cheerfully.
“Er... sure,” Rio hesitantly agreed. “I’ll keep that in mind, I guess.”
“Alright. Off you go, now. They’ll get mad at me if I chat with you for too long.”
“Right. Thank you. For everything.”
Rio bowed his head deeply, then left.
◇◇◇
The time was still early morning.
The worn-down wooden shack sat in the chaotic rows of the slums, where the air was characteristically stagnant. Nevertheless, the shining rays of the morning sun managed to make everything feel a bit better.
Although the men had ordered Rio to wash himself, there was no proper bathing area in the slums. He needed to leave the area and walk to the closest well if he wanted to clean himself. The capital of Beltrant was split into multiple blocks by walls that surrounded the castle in the center. Entering the city required both a permission form and an entry fee. Naturally, living within the walls was safer and more comfortable, but that was only possible for the rich and powerful; it was a sign of greater wealth to live closer to the castle. Meanwhile, travel between districts outside of the walls was completely free. The people who couldn’t live inside the walls could be found in th
ese areas instead. Although they weren’t as safe, they showed different growth compared to the districts inside the walls. The slums were located in the outskirts of the district outside the castle, and while there was no entry fee, the state of law and order was the worst of all the districts outside the castle walls. They’d fallen out of reach of the government’s supervision and become a lawless area left to its own devices as a result. One never entered the slums willingly, unless you had no choice but to live there.
Rio left the slums and headed for a nearby district with a well, then quickly washed himself and his clothes. Since it was still early, there were barely any people walking on the streets. Thanks to that, he was able to use the well in peace. Of course, there was no proper soap or warm water that could be used, but he did the best he could.
After thoroughly washing himself, Rio stopped by a street stall on his way back and filled his stomach with some cheap, hard bread and sludge-like broth. Then he made his way back to the entrance of the slums. He found a sunny spot and sat down, staring at the ground as he waited for his clothes to dry.
It was early spring, but it was still too cold to be outside half-naked, and he was still recovering from his sickness. Fortunately, Rio was used to life in the slums, so it wasn’t unbearable. At this early hour, the red-light district neighboring the slums was gradually emptying out. Both the women that sold their services and the men that bought them were making their way home. Barely any of them headed home towards the slums, though. The only ones that did were ruffians that had struck it rich for the night. Rio had no particular interest in them, so he sat and thought about what to do next. In all honesty, he didn’t think he could live with the men in the shack for much longer — sooner or later, he’d be run into the ground if he did.
That being said, the world just wasn’t kind enough to let an orphan live on his own without any plans. The only chance an orphan had of survival in the slums was by scavenging for leftovers, stealing from others, or being used by violent gangs, like Rio was. There were no other options.
Kingdom of Lies Page 2