Conflux System: I Can Merge Anything-Chapter 48: The Richest Janitor

A rebel adult often seems like a glorious savior, whereas a rebel child often seems like a little devil.

Zane was around men twice his age and for them, he was a child.

So his words were discarded as a laughing matter and that didn’t sit right with him.

Therefore, he exposed their thoughts and ended saying:

"To sewer rats who have only known the gutter, a palace looks like a trap, hope looks like a beast’s den and a savior..."

Zane pointed his finger at himself.

"Looks like a fool."

Silence ensued the slum as Zane’s angry voice was the only thing that echoed after he finished speaking.

The people stared at him now with no mockery as his words forced them to think.

But even if they think, even if they hope, there was one more important thing to consider.

And someone pointed that out.

"Why should we believe you? How are you a savior?"

Zane was a gutterborn like them. If anything, the young man also needed a savior. His words didn’t match his situation.

But Zane didn’t lose his calm. He expected this. He would have asked the same thing if someone said all that to him.

All eyes focused on him and Zane let go of Fork.

Fork found his hand free but he didn’t leave. He stayed standing beside him.

Zane took in all their gazes and in the same voice, he answered:

"You all should believe me for I have done something no one among us had ever done."

Zane paused, making sure he had everyone’s attention and then announced:

"I got admission in the Citadel."

Mouths went wide open as gasps escaped out of everyone present there.

Even the children had their eyes wide open as they also knew the significance of what Zane said.

Fork jolted his head at Zane, staring at him with bulging eyes. He suddenly felt dread and angry at himself for fighting with Zane.

If he got admitted in the Citadel, it meant he awakened a tier worthy enough for that. If Fork would have known he would have asked for forgiveness right away without escalating the fight.

He gulped and immediately bowed.

"Forgive me, sir. I didn’t know."

Zane clicked his tongue.

"This is the problem. This is the issue you all have."

"What happened?" Fork asked, his head still down.

"Raise your head first."

Fork did that.

Zane looked at him.

"The moment you found someone big, strong, higher than you, you apologised. And you didn’t even do it fakely to survive. You genuinely do it because you are scared. You have been trained to bow down to everyone higher than you that you didn’t even consider you could have a choice, that you could fight if someone wronged you."

Fork went silent.

He really apologized because Zane got the admission in the Citadel and Fork’s body said he should bow if he wanted to live. He did it as the most natural thing.

While Fork stayed in thought, another man spoke:

"But if we fight, the Halocrats will kill us. They have built walls around our freedom to keep us inside. And we are the spawns of a thief."

Zane looked at the man.

His one hand was missing.

Zane didn’t pay it mind and looked deep in the man’s eyes.

"The Halocrats didn’t build these walls to keep us in. They built them because they knew you’d eventually learn to love your chains."

The man flinched and Zane carried on.

"We might be the spawns of the thief. The history might be true. Even so we have suffered enough for the sake of our ancestors."

"What do you want us to do? Rebel? And what if one of us turned out to be an informant for them? They will kill everyone present here." A woman chimed.

Zane sighed. "I am not telling you to fight right now, I am not telling you to explode their golden walls, I am simply saying keep it in your heart that you want freedom and when you will get a chance you will take it without letting your fear stop you. That’s all. And if there is an informant and they shared all this to someone, and they came to kill you, then die. What’s the point of living like this anyway? You were dead the moment you were born as a Gutterborn."

Everyone went silent again and after a few seconds of silence, a new voice rang out.

"Not good enough."

All heads turned towards the voice.

It came from outside the circle the crowd had created so the crowd dissipated a little bit for Zane to see who spoke.

It was a man in his forties with black beard, long black coat and disheveled hair.

He walked towards the crowd with a brown cigar between his lips leaving behind its smoke with every step.

"Who is he?" Zane asked the people.

"He is—"

"Jammy the Janitor."

The man answered himself as he finally reached in front of Zane.

The crowd closed the circle again and Zane eyed the man.

He was taller than Zane and he was dressed heavily.

A red shirt beneath the black coat, two black boots and a black leather belt with a bull’s face with its horns as its buckle.

He wasn’t skinny, he wasn’t weak, he wasn’t hunched.

[[Art For Jammy.]]

And seeing him, the first question arose inside Zane was:

"Are you the richest man here?"

Jammy inhaled the cigar and moved it away.

Then while exhaling the smoke on Zane’s face, he answered:

"Just because you got the admission there, it doesn’t make you different. Many people get the admission. You just happened to be a gutterborn who got it. So don’t fly. Come back on the ground."

Jammy completely ignored Zane’s question to him and only said what he wanted.

Zane stared at his brown eyes, not backing down.

"I have gone to the Citadel today. In front of everyone present, I awakened three Gl—"

"What?"

Another voice chimed in and this time, it was filled with shock. As if someone was waiting for someone to say that.

Everyone looked there and from the crowd came out a desperate woman.

Zane also looked at her and before he could understand, she fell right near his feet.

Fork had joined the crowd by now as he didn’t want to stand near Jammy.

Zane only focused on the woman and since she wasn’t standing up, he sat on one knee in front of her.

Jammy watched Zane closely as he took a step back.

Zane held the woman’s shoulders and before he could ask, his eyes went to her hands.

Her knuckles were of an experienced labour and her palms were of a miner.

What does she do?

"What is it?" Zane asked, not knowing what to call her.

The woman held Zane’s shoulders in return and with a hopeful voice, she asked:

"You went to the Citadel today?"

"Yes, I did." Zane answered right away.

The woman’s eyes lit up.

"Then do you know about my son? He also went there today but still hasn’t returned."

Zane frowned.

"Who are you talking about? If you tell me his name maybe I could help—"

Zane wasn’t finished speaking as the old woman wasted no time and blurted the name.

And for better or worse, Zane knew it.

"Herring. His name is Herring Redd."