第１４１９堀：書面と違う現実 (Part2)
"Huh? What on earth does that mean?"
Prol looked utterly bewildered, but Nina remained entirely unfazed.
"Weed is practically the only place with clear household registries. We issue identification to commoners, after all. And thanks to the Dungeon System, we have an accurate count of the population. In most places, children are born and die without a single record being kept."
She stated it with such casual indifference.
Well, she wasn't wrong. Even on modern-day Earth, nations don't have a perfect handle on every single citizen. Even in Japan, there are people who exist outside the family registry—living in the shadows, so to speak.
Granted, without a registry, you’re effectively locked out of most public services. If you have enough money, you can brute-force your way through some obstacles, but things like medical care become astronomically expensive. On the flip side, having a registry brings the obligation to pay taxes. In the end, it’s usually marginally more profitable to be registered.
But this is another world. "Public services" here mostly amount to being allowed inside the city walls and having someone keep the monsters at bay. Sure, there’s some level of law enforcement, but when it comes to theft, the prevailing sentiment is that it’s the victim’s own fault for getting robbed. There’s no equivalent to the medical infrastructure found in Japan. It’s a harsh reality. Because of that, people see no incentive to pay taxes. Once you’re inside the walls, you’re safe—that’s the logic.
"So, you’re saying there were far more people in the western town than we anticipated?"
"That’s exactly it. At this rate, we can’t even begin to gauge the true extent of the casualties. Still, from a tax revenue perspective, this shouldn't be a problem. If anything, it’s a golden opportunity."
"Indeed. If they want to live in the town from here on out, we’ll have to cross-reference them with the resident registry at the checkpoints. Anyone who’s been dodging taxes will have to register then and there."
Nina spoke with the detached air of someone discussing the weather. Yet, in a sense, it was quite significant.
"Um, Yuki-sama... what about those who don't register or pay their taxes?"
"They won't be allowed in, obviously. Though, given the town is in ruins, I imagine they’ll be hired to help with the reconstruction and registered in the process. Then, they’ll start paying their taxes."
The Great Flood likely sent people fleeing in a panic, leaving them destitute. This could serve as a form of compensation for them. That’s the beauty of the status windows—you can discern the truth of a person’s identity. Faking a name is difficult. Not impossible, perhaps, but there’s no real merit in trying to forge the identities of an entire refugee population.
"Oh, I see. So that means the refugees won't be left with nowhere to go."
Ryuushi’s voice was filled with relief at my answer. Ah, I see. She was worried that those who hadn't paid their taxes would be chased off and left homeless. Well, tax delinquency isn't always the individual's fault, after all. Still, it’s not as if we can accept everyone without exception. There will be those who can't work, and how that’s handled is up to the lord’s discretion—not something we can interfere with. Though I suspect Litea will handle that side of things.
As I was pondering this, Fiora brought the conversation back to the main point.
"However, does that mean we still have no way of determining the actual human toll?"
"As for the casualties, there’s no way to know for sure. We’ll just have to gather information from the lord’s son, the butler, and the survivors we’ve rescued."
"But that only covers the people who fought or those whose identities are clearly documented, right?"
"Orelia is right. But since there were no records to begin with, there’s nothing we can do about those who were never registered."
This was the one thing that truly couldn't be helped. The records simply didn't exist.
"Regardless, we have no choice but to continue the investigation of the town and see if we can find any information regarding the Great Flood."
It was tedious, grueling work, but continuing it was the only way to grasp the scale of the damage. Still, our investigations so far hadn't turned up any signs of a massacre, so I had to assume most people were safe. It would be a problem if they had been spirited away in secret, but there hadn't been any testimonies to that effect yet.
I mulled this over, staring intently at the reported data, hoping to find even a shred of information.
Ugh, my eyes hurt. It’s a classic problem: the chasm between the paperwork and the reality on the ground. It’s a genuine issue, but one that happens all too often. Trying to reconcile where the discrepancies lie is truly exhausting.