Slave General Election

South side of the capital, Rebeck.

I was walking with a young man, scanning our surroundings.

His name was Elast. A resident of Rebeck, one of the locals who lived in this area.

Having just returned to Rebeck, I immediately came here after hearing Elast’s petition.

“Ah, I see. Definitely chaotic.”

The building before us looked like it had been thrown up without any plan.

The streets twisted and turned, tangled together.

Just walking in from outside Rebeck, after a few minutes, I lost count of how many turns I’d taken, and had no idea which direction I was facing.

Kind of like a small slum, a natural maze.

“Yes. This whole area existed even before the King took over. The houses and buildings were all made by His Majesty, but the locations stayed the same. Then, over time, people kept building more and more, haphazardly, until it turned out like this.”

“Ah, I see.”

"Real trouble, you know. People coming from the south—can't find their way to the center of Rebeck, or the opposite side, no matter what. Getting stuff from place to place? A nightmare."

Elastos explained, awkwardly using polite speech like a youth still learning the ropes.

Easy enough to picture.

No main road, basically.

Just a tangle of narrow alleys—easy to get lost in, and even easier to get stuck.

The cost of that early days mentality: just survive, feed, and shelter. That was all that mattered back then. Now, centuries later, we're still paying for it.

They reached a small square. Dozens of residents were already waiting there.

Staring at me.

"Local folks, then."

"Yes."

Elastos stepped forward to answer.

"We gathered because we wanted the King to do something about this."

"Hmm. Rebuild it. Lay it out in a grid. Give the streets names. Oh—since we finally cracked asphalt-like paving, we’ll use that."

"Last part’s a bit unclear, but thank you so much!"

"Thank you so much!"

The townspeople chorused in unison.

"We’re always grateful to the King!"

"Grateful!"

"Stop worrying. It’s a DORECA-built house—easy to redevelop. I’ll send slaves here later. Clear out everything not made by DORECA from inside the homes. We’ll rearrange them."

"Understood! … Uh, Your Majesty…"

Elastos gave a quick, enthusiastic reply—then instantly switched tone, voice trembling, eyes darting nervously as he looked at me.

"What is it?"

"Um… about the slaves… Could we… maybe… have the First Slave come here…?"

"Risha? Why go through all that trouble?"

"Please!!!"

Elastos bowed even deeper than before, desperation in every line.

What’s with this sudden panic? I’m thinking—

"Please!!!"

The other townspeople bowed in unison, even lower than before.

“What… the hell is this?”

Everyone lifted their faces, staring at me with fervent eyes.

Please— I could almost hear them pleading through their gazes.

“…I get it. Bring Risha.”

Pressed by that intensity, I blurted out agreement before I could stop myself.

The villagers immediately perked up even more, bursting into delighted cheers.

☆

The Rebeck Palace.

I looked up at it as I returned.

A palace sealed with absolute wards— built well enough back then, but now feeling cramped, what with the growing number of mother-daughter slaves.

I’d have to renovate it someday, I thought.

“Huh?”

A slave emerged from the palace.

The quietest among them— the third slave, Yuria.

“Yuria—”

I started to call her name, but my voice trailed off and vanished.

A few children had already sprinted toward Yuria, gathering around her in a cluster.

All of them were around elementary school age—ten kids total, boys and girls mixed.

One of them, a boy with his hat worn backwards like a leader, spoke up.

“Master Slave, we’ve collected the survey results.”

“Good work. Let me see.”

“Yes!”

The boy handed over a bundle of papers to Yuria, acting as the group’s representative.

Yuria flipped through them, checking each one.

“Hmm, thank you.”

“Is that all?”

“Yeah. As long as I have the raw data, I’ll sort it out.”

“We were able to help the Master Slave.”

“Were.”

Yuria said it quietly, still as ever.

The children cheered. The girls trembled with joy; the boys slapped palms.

Huh. Using kids to gather intel, huh.

“Master Slave! Is there anything else we can do?”

The leader boy asked. The rest of the kids stared at Yuria, eyes wide with hope.

“Hmm, then—”

Yuria gave the children their orders.

No point sticking around, so I slipped away quietly.

☆

Wandered aimlessly through the streets of Rebeck.

South side too—gotta rebuild Rebeck, pave the roads completely.

And while we’ve focused on food, clothing, and shelter so far, this is the phase where we start expanding.

The Goddess asked me to “renew” this world.

Normal would be just renewal—but that’d be boring.

Since I’m here, why not renew it and then evolve it?

Hearing things from various people, it seems this world was roughly medieval level before the Demon God destroyed it.

From my knowledge and common sense, even after renewal, it’d still feel “outdated.”

So I’ll evolve it.

I’ve got knowledge inside me—enough to cover the shift from medieval to early modern, all the way to modern times, including the pioneering ideas that sparked it all.

I’ll slowly bring it to life through DORECA.

First things first—developing machines or something like them. Power sources. Lighting. That sort of thing.

Lighting’s especially important. You hear all the time that when humans conquered the night, they stepped into a whole new realm.

Well, sure—probably using magic instead. Magic lamps, maybe.

I walk through the bustling streets, quiet amusement tugging at my lips.

Then I notice something.

Every shop I’ve seen since a moment ago—whether a proper storefront or a roadside stall—has one of two marks on it.

Red mark. White mark. Only two options.

Once it catches my eye, it won’t let go.

I wander the whole shopping district, checking every shop.

No exceptions. Every single one bears one of the two marks.

“Akito, which side are you on?”

“Whoa.”

A sudden voice from behind makes me jump.

I turn—and there’s Kazan’s leader, Maltia, standing right there.

“Maltia. What do you mean, ‘which side’?”

“Ah, that.”

Maltia pointed to two different marks nearby.

“Risha’s faction or Yuria’s faction— which one are you with?”

“Huh?”

I didn’t understand what she meant.

☆

“Sorry, master!”

“Sorry!”

In the palace’s reception room, while Maltia was happily eating tea and cake, Risha and Yuria bowed to me, apologizing.

“Anyway, explain what’s going on.”

Risha and Yuria exchanged glances. Risha spoke first.

“It’s about when you were away. Without really understanding how it happened, everyone in town split into the First Slave faction and the Third Slave faction.”

“Are they fighting?”

“It’s not really fighting… well… uh…”

“……”

Both Risha and Yuria looked uncomfortable.

What on earth was going on?

“I’ll answer for her.”

Marta smiled, having eaten her cake and feeling satisfied, and spoke in turn.

Slaves have their master’s favor, right? And Akitto treats slaves like they’re cute, right?

Ah, treating slaves like pets—adoring them, spoiling them—that’s the basic rule.

Looking at Marda with a face that said, “What about it?”

Don’t know how exactly it got twisted, but apparently everyone’s saying now that “slaves’ favor depends on their achievements.” At first, just a few people got excited and started helping Risha, but lately it’s been heating up.

A smirk curled her lips—mischievous, sharp.

"Two people started competing to earn your favor by outdoing each other in merit—Risha's faction and Yuria's faction. And that mark you saw..."

…uh, so basically

I sorted it all out in my head.

I know what that is.

I know exactly what that is.