Caesar was sick of the world. He was sick of poverty, powerlessness, and the injustice he had to endure just because he was an orphan.
'We have achieved peace,' said the World Church, but that was only for the first-world countries with rich citizens and even richer governments. That was not the case for a backwater third-world country like Caesar was in.
Here, chaos and lawlessness rule without any regard for the safety of its citizens. Sure, there were churches built and cathedrals placed around the country, but it was filled with corrupt ministers and dirty priests. They were just as despicable as the rest of them.
He learned from an early age that he could never trust anybody but himself. He had to get out of this situation by himself, with his own power.
But what could he do? He had no power like the blessed ones that the church ordained, nor did he have exceptional strength. All he had was his cunning and brilliant brain.
In his orphanage, he had to watch his fellow orphans rot in their cells with no chance of adoption. Who can blame them? Nobody was willing to adopt kids in this economy, and wealthy families would never pick from a rundown orphanage like this.
But now, Caesar has a chance to move up in the world. He looked down at his hands and pinched a red powder from his desk.
It was as red as blood, with grains as fine as sugar. It was only a pinch full of substance, but this was the culmination of all his hard work.
Blood, sweat, and a lot of patience came to this moment when his product was finally finished. It took him many tries and failures, but he never gave up.
He looked around at the damp room around him. It was dark and moist, with green moss growing to the sides. This was his hideout, a hidden part of the sewer only he can access.
On his front was a wooden desk filled with measuring equipment made of rusting silver. There were tubes, bowls, and even a vase that had a triangular end shape. These tools were crude and inaccurate, but it was all he had.
"Ha…finally," he said with a smile on the side of his oil-dirt face.
This was Joy, a substance that can give its consumer a sense of ecstasy and happiness that can never be replaced. Once you felt this type of feeling, you would never be able to move on from it. It hooks you in and occupies every single part of your brain, even to the point of forgoing eating and sleeping.
Long-time consumption of Joy was shown to have dangerous effects on the human body and mind. In twenty years of consuming this product daily, your mind would not be able to think of a single word. Your body would be so feeble that your bones wouldn't be able to support your body from standing.
This was why the World Church banned it from production, consumption, and trade. Everyone was free from the addiction that is Joy, but as discussed earlier, that was only for first-world countries.
Joy was in free production in this country, almost making it its main import and export. There was even a laboratory that produced 10 kilograms of Joy every month right next to a church sanctioned by the World Government.
Were they not afraid? Production of a banned substance right next to a church? Are they just stupid? No. Those churches are filled with priests who exclusively buy kilos and kilos of Joy in exchange for their silence.
The church that was supposed to protect the citizens from dangerous substances was letting criminals run around destroying people's futures. Those hypocrites.
The orphanage was supposed to be funded by the church, but it has been years since they have given any sort of money to the orphanage. The Foster mother was forced to work and pay for almost twenty children.
5 children per year die of malnutrition every year while the priests party with drug dealers and prostitutes. They didn't even try to hide it. They would do a sermon with red powder smothered on their lapel, and nobody would bat an eye.
DING! DING! DING!
The church's bell rang around the town, announcing to everyone that the sun has dawned a new day. Filled with exhaustion and sleep deprivation, Caesar grabbed the fine Joy powder and shoved it into a small plastic bag, which he shoved deep into his pants.
Under the eyes of no one, Caesar climbed out of the sewage through a makeshift ladder made out of wood and strings. He peeked out with his eyes, making sure no one was there to see him.
Once he was sure, he got out of the hole and covered it with an oblong stone filled with moss, sticks, and dried leaves to make sure it was indiscriminate from its surroundings.
With the scent of early morning dew, Caesar looked at San Morino town on his horizon. Soon. Soon, this town will be his. That tall clock tower breezing the clouds will be his eyes, that town circle will be where the people will worship his Joy, and that church is where he'll behead his enemies.
Filled with determination, Caesar walked down the mountain slope and made his way back into town.
There were barely any people wandering in the streets. If there were, it was only debt collectors banging on doors or drunkards only now making their way home. It would not even be strange to see a dead body lying on the curb with red powder under their nails.
Caesar pulled his hoodie down, obscuring his face from any prying eyes. Even if there were no people around, he would still do it out of precaution.
He went around the residential area until he found the magnificent church made out of marble. It was shining compared to the gloomy and dark residential area around it. He saw junior priests sweeping the area for dirt and trash, but they only swept it towards its surrounding and away from the church. They don't actually clean up their trash.
He went around the church to the back and saw a rundown dorm building with broken windows and rotting paint as its only decoration.
This was the orphanage, the shadow and trash dump of the church. Of course, most people can't see this building as it was overshadowed by the church and surrounded by tall brick walls. This was his 'home'.
No orphans nor nuns were walking around the orphanage. Nobody was willing to waste their precious energy cleaning up this unclean-able dumpster of a home.
He leapt over a glassless window to the side and immediately heard a commotion near the front window. It was the voice of an adult man and an older woman. He recognized both voices.
Caesar walked to the edge of the corner and eavesdropped on the conversation.
"I told you we can't pay off our debt today. You upped your interest and shortened the time limit! This is unfair!" shouted the woman wearing a nun's clothes. Her face showed her age, with wrinkles and spots on her face.
She was the foster mother of this orphanage—the woman who took care of all orphans using her own money.
"Dear nun. I don't care. I only want my money on my hands in my own time. It's your job to fill my pockets until you drop dead," said the man with a scar on his right eye.
This was Berk, a debt collector that knocks on their doors once a month. But this time, he came a week earlier, no doubt because all his funds were spent on women and booze.
"If you can't pay with money, you can always pay with something else," Berk said with a sly smile. He looked at the nun up and down.
The nun's face froze with seriousness. She didn't dare give a response to the perverted mind of Berk.
Seeing her response, Berk waved his hands and laughed. "Don't worry, I'm not interested in an old hag like you. Your body can't pay off 10 Parou on your 10,000 Parou debt."
Parou was the currency used in this country.
The nun kept her silence and balled up her fist in anger. There was nothing she could do.
"Just give me the money, okay?" Berk said while slapping the nun's face. Then, he walked out of the dorm and into an alleyway to light up a smoke.
Just as the flame in his lighter sparked, he saw a shadow on the side of his eyes. He looked up and saw that it was a dirtied teenage boy leaning on a wall with a sly smile on his face. He seemed to recognize him, or at least his ragged clothes that belonged to the orphanage.
"Hm? Aren't you one of her children? Are you here to avenge your mother?" he asked with a smile. "I'll welcome you to your death." He took a whiff of his cigarette.
Caesar smiled and looked at Berk's fingers filled with red powder under his nails. He guessed that Berk was an addict, but this confirmed it.
"No. I'm here for a proposition," Caesar said as he revealed his palms to the debt collector. It had a small amount of Joy.
As soon as Berk saw the red powder, his eyes widened. His Joy-riddled brain immediately recognized the addicting substance. But something's wrong. Why was it so red? Why is it smooth with no small rocks mixed in? Why does it look so good?
This was not the Joy he was accustomed to. No. It was better. Better than anything he had ever seen.
"As expected of an addict. You immediately recognized it." Caesar said, bringing up his hand. He didn't even have to walk towards Berk as he walked by himself towards the red powder.
Berk took a finger and pressed it onto the powder in Caesar's palm. It immediately stuck to his skin, like a magnet. He opened his mouth and rubbed it on the underside of his tongue.
Immediately, his head fired back. He was stunned. The ecstasy was instant and overflowing with taste. His body shivered, afraid of the joy he was experiencing for the first time in his life.
As soon as he saw that, Caesar knew Berk was slaved to the powder in his hands. In his head, he heard a sound.
TING
[Introduce Pure Joy into the world for the first time]
[Level up!]
[Current level: Lvl. 1 Crook]