"So, what's your name?" Caleric asked.
"Laerto," the man replied.
"That's an unusual name. What is your ethnicity?"
Caleric was asking questions as they walked down the street. He had previously asked the man to become his tour guide. Despite being wary of Caleric, the man, who was in desperate need of money, had agreed.
"I've grown up here, but my family originally belonged to Labercart," the man explained.
"You seem to be very talkative for someone who is good with deception," Laerto said.
"Good with deception? I don't know where you got that idea, but being talkative or quiet is not a trait related to someone's deception skills. Look at yourself, you barely talk, yet you are not half as good."
Caleric's comment had made him a little angry. He had never been belittled like that, and that too by someone younger than him.
So that's how you are when provoked.
Ever since Caleric had first met Laerto on the street, he had sensed something about the man. Caleric could tell something was off from the very start. Although he had treated him to a meal out of sympathy and, in a way, to show gratitude, it was also because he wanted to observe the man who had piqued his interest.
First, Caleric had exposed the man's obvious con and then confronted him about his wife. Looking through the skit wasn't difficult for Caleric; however, the latter was a blind guess. He could barely tell just by looking at his facial features and posture. He wasn't too sure of it but decided to take a shot, and luckily he wasn't wrong.
Next, Caleric had faked leaving him at the cafe and running away. This was also part of his plan. Caleric was confident it would work, having imagined similar situations multiple times. As a psychology freak, Caleric was also a big fan of psychological thrillers, often imagining himself as the protagonist.
Lastly, right now, Caleric had been pretending to talk a lot—something he never did. He had also made an arrogant comment about how Laerto wasn't good at his craft. This, again, was according to Caleric's plan.
He wasn't doing these odd things to corner Laerto; instead, he wanted to see his reaction. For someone like Laerto, who had learned from life on the streets, he was already an actor. Caleric feared being deceived by him and wanted to understand the man better.
By exposing the man, Caleric was able to observe how he reacted to situations that induced shock or surprise. By pretending to leave, Caleric had observed his state of panic; and now, he had managed to observe how the man behaved when provoked.
For an amateur, such subtle cues might seem unimportant, but for the psychology freak Caleric, these cues could be used to understand the man better in mere seconds. In short, Caleric had been psychologically profiling the man from the very start, and Laerto had no clue.
"So tell me more about the general conditions here. How is life, how is everything else?"
Laerto was a little confused, but he decided to play along.
"There is not much for you to ask about. Isn't it common sense? The general conditions here are bad. Don't you see poverty everywhere the eye can look the moment you enter the lower street? It's just how life is in the outskirts.
"Poor families struggle to secure even a single proper meal. At times, people go without eating for days. I myself had not eaten for the last three days. I must thank you for the treat." Laerto sighed heavily.
"And I know what you will say. All of them say the same—go find work. As if it is that easy. If it really was that easy, why wouldn't we already be working?
"There is no work, sir. There is not enough for everyone. The city centre sparkles, but here there are no lights even for up to a mile. A single street lamp, and that too is often left without being reinfused, for they don't bother doing it. And why would they? It's laborious to do the same thing twelve times a year.
"I get work sometimes, while other times it is just nothing. But if it was only that, if it was just the poverty and unemployment, maybe it would be manageable. But then it's those mercenaries and gangs.
"There are a lot of gangs in this area. I will not recommend you wander off into any alleyways for your own safety. We will continue on the main road for the same reason.
"First there was just one, then more gangs started coming up. They came in as saviors, promising to put us out of our misery by offering protection against the guards, but they slowly turned into leeches. Most of the population in the slums is under the Happa Gang's control or the Resistance.
"But they barely work for us. As much as they hate the Quax military control over the area, we initially thought their perspective was aligned with ours, but they turned out to be leeches.
"The present Happa Gang charges taxes from the residents in the area. They threaten to burn houses or kill family members if we refuse. The police aren't active in these areas—it's mostly military control. For us, crawling over to the military is far worse, so all we can do is comply with the gang's conditions.
"The Resistance has turned into less of a rebel organization and more of hoarders. They control food and water at times and force children into pickpocketing. Remember the kid from earlier? He works for a small group that falls under Resistance's control.
"And the worst is work. The gangs promote working, which is also why they were thought of as saviors at first. Little did we know they were planning on feeding off our hard-earned money.
"Life here isn't easy, sir. Crazy, right? Just a few miles up, and you find yourself in a place full of prosperity. The centre is a massive trade hub, but the rest of the city? Slums. Virelia might house the largest shopping district, but it also has the largest slums and the worst poverty conditions."
Laerto finished with his brief introduction of the conditions in the outskirts of the city; perhaps, he had said a little too much in flow. Caleric had not expected such conditions at all.
"What about law enforcement? Can't you all just leave the area or maybe rebel against the gangs? And how bad can going to the military be?" Caleric asked several questions. Despite having transmigrated from a world that also had similar conditions in various parts, he had little knowledge of it, for he had never embraced the dark side of society.
"Law?" Laerto laughed.
"There is no such thing as laws that work in these parts of the city. I think you don't understand how this city is able to run. Have you never questioned the amount of governance it would require to maintain a city with a population over ten million?
"The city is under Quax control, but the nation barely cares about anything that happens here. The nation only maintains its presence using military forces to stay active in the region. Virelia is nothing more than a strategic geopolitical hub. Quax is enjoying the benefits.
"The real governing body is only the Central Circle, which actually thinks for the city. However, its reach is situated only around the centre. As you travel towards the outskirts, their control wears off.
"That's why these areas are military controlled. However, the military doesn't see us as citizens—they look at us like pests. The last time someone walked up to those uniformed soldiers to raise their voice against the gangs, the military, instead of helping, captured that poor soul. I never saw him again.
"The military doesn't care about what is happening in the area as long as it is controlled."
As they were walking, they saw two uniformed guards beating a person with batons. The passersby weren't batting an eye at what was happening in broad daylight.
"Who is that?" Caleric asked.
"A suspected informant or a spy. But at this point, it could just be an innocent man. The guards never run out of excuses to blow off some steam. At least he is a man. For women, the conditions are way worse. Don't stare at them for too long," Laerto said.
"Then again, there is indeed a way." he continued. "If one can hope to save up just enough to move up, even to the lower ends of Upper Street—but only if it was possible. We can't leave, for we have no money and no place, and if someone dares to, the gangs will track them down.
"Being on the lower street main road doesn't quite give the sense of the severe conditions. At most, it feels a little rural and poor. It is so much worse than just that.
"And just when we thought things were turning a little better for us, just when we had a flicker of hope because our leader, Mr. Jaque, was going to be appointed as a member of the Central Circle, he was mysteriously murdered."
"The Central Circle has done quite a lot for us and is always trying to, and I, as someone who was once saved because of them, cannot express enough gratitude. But they can only do so much. They may save a few thousand, but the population in need is in the millions."
They had walked for quite some time. Caleric was no longer in the mood to continue; he had a serious expression, perhaps a little upset at how he had taken his transmigration into a well-off family for granted. He was now more determined than ever to secure a job.
He paid Laerto 2 Obel, perhaps out of sympathy, and left, walking back the way they had come. He explored for a little while, noting different shops and businesses along the way. He strolled around for the rest of the day and returned home before night.
Cally had already had her dinner, so Caleric could only eat alone. He finished his meal without saying a word to his maid, who kept staring at him, and went up to his room.
He went straight to sleep. As he lay comfortably on the bed, which gave him a strange sense of ownership, he felt another strong emotion—this time his own. He had taken his house, his bed, everything up until then for granted. He now had a new understanding of the difficulties of life. With that, he slowly sank into sleep, knowing well that he had now become an adult who would have to take responsibilities.
...
Suddenly, Caleric found himself wide awake in a familiar place.