9th Grade Civil Servant In Another World Chapter 148 - Necessary Evil (5)

The morning of the execution dawned.

Sunday, when priests who had volunteered from the homeland led worship services.

The pioneer village residents gathered reverently in the church to sing hymns, then all headed together to the square. Of course, the children were no exception.

A large execution platform had been erected in the square.

A big, round wheel made of wood, with one bronze-skinned male elf bound to it.

The man, with his limbs bound so he couldn’t possibly escape from the wheel, had his neck fixed with leather straps so he couldn’t even lower his head, his eyes squeezed tightly shut.

People stirred at this new method of execution—neither hanging nor beheading.

But their bewilderment soon disappeared as everyone began to explode with emotion.

“Devil bastard! Go to hell!”

A rough stone flew with the harsh shout and struck the elf’s forehead hard.

“Ugh!”

His forehead split and blood streamed down, but the elf made only a weak groan and didn’t move.

That sight only inflamed people’s anger more.

“Cursed heathen bastard!”

“Evil monster! Get out of our land!”

Gradually more objects flew. From stones to small wood scraps, to tools used at the worksite.

Red gashes multiplied across the half-naked upper body of the elf wearing only underwear.

The armed staff standing on either side only prevented people from approaching the execution platform.

“Cough!”

Finally the elf couldn’t endure any longer and spat out a clot of blood. Cheers erupted from among the spectators.

“Cruel.”

Namir, watching through the window, trembled.

“Yes, it is.”

Daniel’s voice was calm.

“This is how they release their dissatisfaction and fear. You might want to criticize them, but this is reality.”

Fael was the same. Namir looked at his two expressionless brothers and closed his mouth.

“Well, I’ll be going then.”

Daniel waved to the two of them and went down to the first floor of the building.

The pioneer village headquarters near the square was built somewhat more solidly and respectably than the workers’ quarters.

Since they thought terrorists would target places like this.

But Ashtard was young and inexperienced. So aside from one person losing a leg, he hadn’t managed to cause them any harm at all.

‘Rather, it’s fortunate it erupted on such a small scale like this.’

Daniel felt sick at himself for being relieved about this situation.

On the first floor, staff were waiting. Liam Weber, the terrorism victim, and his family too.

“How have you been, Mr. Weber?”

“President.”

When Daniel smiled gently and greeted him, Liam on crutches bowed his head. Liam’s wife also greeted him while holding their young son.

“How are you feeling?”

“Much better. I don’t get fevers at night anymore.”

“That’s good to hear.”

Daniel had used his presidential authority to give the Weber couple an extended leave. He had of course sent staff to take special care of them.

Moreover, he had approved Liam’s wish to “beat up the bastard who threw the bomb.”

So Liam had no choice but to be loyal.

“The custom prosthetic leg will take some time to ship. You’ll have to use crutches for a while, though I know it’s inconvenient.”

When Daniel spoke with an apologetic heart, Liam waved his hand.

“Oh, no! It’s not inconvenient at all!”

Certainly, Liam’s sturdy build and muscular frame seemed to have no problem supporting his body on one leg.

“That’s good to hear. Shall we head over now?”

“Yes!”

Liam answered spiritedly and followed Daniel toward the square.

When Daniel appeared, the noisy square fell into silence.

Daniel stood beside the execution platform and looked around at the crowd of spectators spread out like waves. A staff member handed him a microphone.

“…Everyone.”

Daniel’s voice echoed across the square.

“This man before you committed a terrible bombing terrorism incident that harmed people.

Fortunately, there were no fatalities, but your friend and colleague Liam Weber had to lose one leg, and several others suffered major and minor injuries.

We captured the perpetrator at the scene and held a formal trial according to Schufaben national law.

Criminal Code Article 17, Murder. When one harbors murderous intent toward another and plans and executes a killing successfully, a sentence of 15 years or more imprisonment shall be imposed.

Criminal Code Article 25, Attempted Crime. When one commences execution of a crime but fails to complete the act or the result does not occur, they shall be punished as an attempt. In this case, the sentence may be reduced.

Criminal Code Article 48, when one possesses unauthorized swords, firearms, etc., a sentence of 5 years or more imprisonment shall be imposed. When used, a sentence of 10 years or more imprisonment shall be imposed.

Criminal Code Article 66, for violent crimes targeting an unspecified number of people, punishment of life imprisonment or greater shall be imposed based on the planning alone.

Criminal Code Article 72, Insurrection. Those who commit riots with the purpose of seizing national territory or disturbing the constitution shall be sentenced to death regardless of intent or result.”

Daniel’s clear voice drove mercilessly into the audience’s ears.

Most didn’t understand the content, but they began to murmur as they read the atmosphere from Daniel’s stern expression.

“Therefore, in the trial convened following this incident, the judge sentenced the criminal to death.”

The moment Daniel’s words ended, thrilling elation spread across Liam’s face.

“Waaaah!”

“Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!”

Death.

Understanding only that one word, the workers began excitedly shouting. Daniel nodded and raised his hand high, calling out.

“Execute!”

A man with a massive build appeared from behind the execution platform.

He held a huge axe in his hands—twice as large as the woodsman’s axes you could still see in the countryside.

The man in a black mask covering his face bowed once toward the crowd, then approached the trembling elf.

Seven steps climbing the stairs.

When he climbed onto the execution platform built high so everyone could see well, the elf was writhing wildly.

The executioner paid no mind and spun the wheel the elf was attached to round and round. Like playing darts.

After spinning the wheel playfully for a while, the executioner raised his axe high.

Crack!

With a horrible sound, a large amount of blood spurted. The elf’s right arm was literally severed.

It was such clean work that tendons and bone were cut through in one blow.

The spectators grimaced for a moment but admired the executioner’s tremendous strength.

“Mmph! Mmmph!”

The gagged elf writhed in pain but the sturdy leather straps wouldn’t break.

Crack!

The left arm flew off.

Crack! Crack!

Both legs broke in turn.

The elf had now lost too much blood and hung limply in a near-death state with his eyes open.

Perhaps he was already dead.

“Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!”

But the crowd didn’t care about such minor details. They just continued shouting to kill him, cheering enthusiastically.

Thud, crack!

Finally the executioner struck down the elf’s neck, separating it cleanly from his body. The body trembled briefly from post-mortem rigidity, then gradually stilled without any movement.

***

“Cruel.”

Fael nodded at the slightly trembling voice.

“Cruel indeed. We deliberately staged it that way.”

From the headquarters office, they could look down at the execution ground through the window. Silence settled among the people.

Fael looked around at the fifteen elves. Mixed-bloods weren’t among them—these were real Great Desert elves.

“So. Are you joining us?”

At Fael’s question, the middle-aged man who had stepped forward as representative nodded calmly.

“Yes. We will help Lord Fa-Elhar’s work.”

“Thank you.”

Fael answered lightly and looked past the man through the slightly open office door.

“Ah…”

Namir sighed with a haggard face. While turning away from Ashtard, who was pressed against the window crying tears.

Ashtard looked much cleaner than on the day of the terrorism, but deep despair was etched on his face.

“Really… no one? Not a single person?”

Ashtard muttered in a voice that shook like a groan. His body, which had been pressed against the window as if to break through, slumped down weakly.

From the office came the chattering voices of those calling themselves the ‘Five Tribes Merchant Alliance’ or something.

“His death is regrettable but unavoidable.”

“He was clearly a heinous criminal.”

“In the end, he’ll become a foundation stone for development.”

Namir’s idea had been extremely dangerous, but equally appealing.

“Let’s make a bet, Ashtard. I’ll put you on the execution platform.”

“What?!”

“Your stand-in, that is. If all the elves truly share your thoughts, they’ll come to rescue you after hearing rumors, or protest. Then I won’t kill you. I’ll stop development too.”

For a moment Ashtard’s eyes flashed with hope and expectation.

“But if no one comes to save you, or if people actually support the execution, then you become our ally. What do you say, Ashtard?”

Saying this, Namir’s face looking this way was so innocent it was astounding, making Ashtard dumbfounded.

Could that be the expression of someone who had been screaming they had to navigate this harsh world?

He nodded quietly.

He could win.

No, he would win.

That’s what he thought.

Fael and Daniel rescued a death row prisoner who had committed serious crimes in a Fa tribe village.

A secret deal agreeing to give large sums to the families if they consented to public execution.

And they spread rumors throughout the Great Desert.

Terrorism had occurred in the pioneer village, and humans were hurt. The perpetrator was an elf who demanded the right for elves to live without human control.

December 18th, the execution would be carried out.

***

A letter arrived from a place called the ‘Five Tribes Merchant Alliance.’ Summarizing the lengthy text, it was essentially a request for secret audience.

Fael had unbound Ashtard’s restraints and brought him to headquarters. He gave him a comfortable room connected to the office and provided refreshments.

Ashtard sat awkwardly on the sofa, alternately looking at the elf death row prisoner bound outside and the slightly open office door while listening carefully.

The middle-aged man who stepped forward as representative introduced himself as a textile merchant from the Ban tribe named Jauhar.

His first words were something Fael could never have anticipated.

“…What did you just say?”

“I said that’s not the will of the elves.”

Even when Fael asked again, Jauhar’s firm words remained unchanged.

“By ‘that’ you mean.”

“The bombing terrorism. And the justifications that child shouted.”

“That child?”

“Ah, well. I personally know Ashtard.”

“I see. What a tragedy. But regarding the justifications you mentioned—you mean the call to drive out the humans and their collaborators who suck the elves’ lifeblood from the Great Desert?”

At Fael’s quite explicit question, Jauhar fell silent for a moment.

But when the elves behind him gave him looks, he squeezed his eyes shut and spoke.

“…That’s right.”

For a moment, Fael thought he heard a choking sound from beyond the door.

“How interesting…”

Fael quietly observed Jauhar sitting across from him.

A face showing slight discomfort and unease, but no guilt or shame whatsoever.

“Suppose Ashtard and Mr. Jauhar each proclaimed your respective positions in the middle of a Fa tribe or Ban tribe village. Which side would get more violently stoned?”

“We know that too.”

Jauhar took out a handkerchief and wiped away cold sweat.

“Our Five Tribes Merchant Alliance—”

“Excuse me for interrupting, but when was this alliance established? I hadn’t heard of it at least ten years ago.”

“Ah, it hasn’t been long. To be precise, it was founded after Lord Fa-Elhar revived Elrahatan.”

“Elrahatan was led not by me but by my younger brother Namir. In any case, please continue.”

Fael settled into a comfortable listening posture. Jauhar let out a deep sigh.

“Well, Lord Fa-Elhar. We all know. Though publicly you put forward Fa-Namir’s name, in reality the power lies with you, Lord Elhar.”

“…”

“The merchant association was also organized in relation to Lord Elhar’s activities. We’re traders, after all.”

“Traders?”

“We travel between tribal cities as peddlers, and sometimes import goods from human countries to sell. Lord Elhar, you know this well, don’t you?”

Fael nodded readily. Having dabbled in distribution business himself, he knew the industry well.

“What we want to say is…”

Jauhar’s eyes grew firm.

“We’ve realized the reality.”

“Reality.”

“The great cause proclaimed by the chieftains.”