Necessary Corruption 19a (Patreon)

Commissioned by Kejmur

Necessary Corruption
Interlude 19a

-VB-

Moto was the only son of a samurai and his legal wife. Just like his father, he was a good samurai.

So why was he here in this alley?

Moto knew that this was wrong. He was squandering the wealth his father and his grandfather gathered, nevermind the wealth his mother and her family brought to her union with father. He got the best education his father could give him, and once his father passed the duty of governorship to him, he would be doing what his father did.

And yet, he was spending wealth that should have been used for other purposes on … this.

“You have what I want?” he asked the traveling merchant.

The front-tooth missing weasel grinned. “Of course, I have it for you, young master!” he wheezed. “Why, I even got the best grade out of it all. It cost me pretty little ryos… but if it’s for you, young master, I’ll keep the price at cost for other benefits, if you know what I mean.”

Moto wanted to grimace. He knew exactly what this merchant wanted. In exchange for giving him what he wanted at cost and thus lowering the cost he would have to pay right now, he would give the merchant the privilege of being “exempt” from taxes. Father gave such things to merchants who were vital to the trade of the area, but it was given very rarely.

Because he was right now his father’s steward - or learning how to be - he had the means of accessing the seal to give this man that status.

It’s something this weasel has been asking for a number of visits, because while this alley deal might be lucrative, it wasn’t his main business.

He glanced down at the very white powder inside a small silk pouch. Its whitness was a sign of its quality. Bad quality ones, the ones that were sometimes even gray, were … they were bad for anyone’s health.

This… this was the good stuff.

“Fine,” he grunted as he swiped the bag from the giddy merchant’s hand and then dropped two silver ryos. “That should be fine, right?”

“I bought it for three silver ryos, young master.”

He clicked his tongue in distaste and gave the merchant his due.

“Thank you for the business as always, young master~!” the weasel chuckled as he stowed his treasure away and left the alley quickly.

Moto looked down at the silk pouch and its hidden content. He was sorely tempted to dive right into it, but he knew that he wouldn’t come out of pretty. No, he needed to be patient. He could wait for an hour or two. He could get home and then into his room. He could enjoy it there, not make himself a fool in front of his father’s vassals and peasants.

Steeling himself, he waited out the obligatory quarter hour he needed to give the merchant to “dissociate” themselves from each other. He was a young master and he was a lowly peddler; it wouldn’t do for the two of them to be seen together.

Dressed in his cognito civilian clothes, he hated how he had to keep coming down to the rundown districts to get what he wanted. Father hated this stuff, but he loved it. To avoid his eyes, he’d had to make frequent visits.

It was only thanks to his meticulous self-care that father hadn’t noticed anything wrong. He just thought that he was being … more energetic than usual.

And he was. Father certainly didn’t care about how more energetic he was becoming, just that he got more grandchildren to pamper.

He looked up and blinked. Oh, it was time to go.

He stood up, dusted his dirty clothes, and intentionally hunched his shoulders forward. Then, proud of his own imitation, he walked out of the alley, intending to take a long detour.

-VB-

Moto sat in his room now in his casual wear. His wife was out attending to his mother while his father and his children were out visiting someone else.

He was in charge of the castle right now…

He was … free to do as he pleased.

Grinning, he reached into his clothes where he hid the silk pouch. His trembling hands grasped the pouch and slowly pulled it out. There was no way he was going to let his own haste ruin this!

He panted as he gently and gingerly set the pouch down onto the table in front of him and then pulled the strings slowly.

There.

Inside.

The pouch.

His trembling worsened with the fruits of a day’s work in front of him. He wanted it now. HE WANTED IT -!

He held himself back.

He was still a samurai. A samurai did not debase himself.

He took a deep breath in and pulled out a small spoon with a very narrow and flat head.

For this moment, he quelled the trembling. He stared down at the spoon until it stopped shaking.

Stop shaking.

Stop shaking already.

Stop.

Then, satisfied, he pushed the tip of the spoon head into the pouch and gently pulled out a small snip.

He pulled the spoon up and then leaned down. Once the spoon was close to his nose-.

-VB-

Tears streamed down the face of Lord Kikomura Sengonju - one of the few samurai lords in northern Land of Rivers - as he glared at the box where his only son’s body was while the fire burned around it.

Beside him were his sons-in-laws, his daughters, his wife, his daughter-in-law, and his four grandchildren.

“The idiot kept doing it even though we came to blows over it…!” he wept as he and the rest of the clan grieved.

His hands came up and clutched his white haori, gripping it tightly as his tears fell from his jawline.

‘I swear this on your name, Moto…!’ he screamed internally. ‘I will end whatever killed you! I swear this on my honor!’

-VB-

Across the Northern Land of Rivers, this scene played out not just in the bosoms of the safest corners of the noble and rich families but also across the fields and cities that dotted the landscape.

Fields that once harvested rice by the bales laid fallow. Towns that bubbled with life simmered with no one walking the roads. Bandits and criminals that once feared the law and the ninjas foolishly struck out as much as they could.

And why?

All of this happened to fuel the needs of those who wanted more of the opium.

Powers-that-be began to look into this crisis, but everywhere they found evidence, they also lost men and women, honest and dishonest. Many simply disappeared while others returned half-dead and without memories.

Who was responsible for all of this? Who killed their sons? Who killed their daughters? Who caused the miscarriages? Who caused the decline of their land and their people? Who made them lose their grip on power?

They wanted answers.