Bad Born Blood Chapter 113

Chapter 113

The lower district was a chaotic sprawl, with few areas adhering to any urban planning. Naturally, it lacked the structured roadways of the upper district, such as its circulation roads. If anything, aerial vehicles were more necessary here than in the upper district.

From the gate entrance, people of the lower district were already waiting for Francec. They mostly belonged to the middle class.

The welcoming crowd at the entrance greeted Francec with enthusiasm comparable to that of the upper district.

The procession was veering off the central road. The atmosphere of the streets was shifting. Amidst buildings that were not just old but decayed beyond repair, the ragged figures of the impoverished ca into view.

Bzzzzing!

A drone, accelerating its movent, entered first.

Flying low as if surveilling the crowd, the drone swept through the streets. For those with uncertain identities or high risk levels, it blatantly pointed its gun and drove them away.

"Don’t be too aggressive, Iskan."

Francec spoke briefly. Iskan moved his lips subtly, whispering into the communications link of the mobile command center. The drones retracted their weapons and only issued warnings instead.

As the road narrowed, so did the procession, stretching longer in the process. However, the crowd’s interest did not wane—in fact, it only grew.

People leaned out of buildings with haphazardly placed doors and windows, the result of illegal expansions. Everything was so irregular that predictions were nearly impossible.

"Y-Your Majesty?"

"Long live His Majesty!"

"That’s the Crown Prince, you idiot!"

Even curses could be heard sporadically. Many had co out simply to gawk, unaware of whose procession this was.

It was quite the spectacle. The cutting-edge, large drones maneuvered flawlessly without collisions, while the empire’s propaganda holograms lit up the surroundings. Beneath them, the Imperial Guards and elite soldiers marched in perfect discipline.

Even Francec, who held a certain fondness for the lower district, had never ventured this deep before. That ant many here were seeing such a procession for the first ti.

—Suspicious individual detected. Low-level armant, but...

Communications were running busily.

The lower district had its fair share of lunatics. So, either ntally unstable or under the influence of drugs, ignored warnings and pressed dangerously close. Up ahead, an android was driving away soone blocking the road.

Pew.

I heard a faint, suppressed gunshot.

Amidst all the grandeur, death took place. Hidden in a quiet alleyway, the Imperial Guards were eliminating threats. Disobedience ant death, whether due to a broken mind or temporary intoxication. That wasn’t our concern.

’The most important thing is Francec’s safety.’

No matter what Francec thought of the lower district, today’s visit would claim many lives. The soldiers would do everything in their power to prevent any mishaps.

Piyuuuuung!

Fireworks shot into the sky to mask the sound of gunfire. As the bursting flas stole the crowd’s attention, death blossod in the alleyways. Their deaths were erased as easily as they had occurred.

‘Does Francec know that people are dying because of him right now?’

I stole a glance at him. He was too busy preparing for his speech.

We arrived at one of our planned stops—a plaza, one of the largest in the lower district. I knew this place well.

Holess people cramd their bodies between benches and decorative fixtures, filling the air with their stench. Near the public restrooms, n with eerie grins stood selling vials of colorful liquid. anwhile, n and won in outfits so crude they were outright repulsive waved their hands with fake smiles, selling their bodies.

But now, all traces of that daily life had vanished. The plaza, disturbingly clean, had been scrubbed by Imperial soldiers. A fair amount of blood had likely been spilled in the process.

The procession encircled the plaza, forming a periter. At its center stood Francec and .

Wiiiiiing!

The platform beneath us slowly began to rise. The eyes of the crowd followed us upward.

Thump, thump.

My heart pounded as if I had suddenly developed a fear of heights. My pupils must have dilated.

‘Expand your perception and sensory range, Luka.’

I willed my body to obey. Francec was in extre danger right now. The world was full of people with strange abilities. Who could have predicted that Rick would have the power to teleport?

I wasn’t the only one on edge. Iskan and the Imperial Guards radiated an icy tension, their focus sharpened to its peak.

—Luka, if anything happens, sacrifice yourself to protect His Highness. As long as your brain is intact, we’ll find a way to save you.

Iskan’s voice echoed in my earpiece.

"You don’t need to tell that," I murmured just loud enough for my words to stay inside my helt.

Wiiing!

A towering hologram of Francec extended upward from the center of the plaza. The massive projection illuminated the area.

"Uwooooooh!"

"Waaaaah!!"

The cheers surged. A giant of light stood over the plaza. So people would never forget this sight for the rest of their lives.

"Our Accretia Empire..."

Francec opened with his speech. The ssage he delivered in the upper district was entirely different from the one he gave here.

In the upper district, he had denounced the atrocities of Bellato and Corite, spewing words of hatred.

But in the lower district, such hatred would not take root. These people were too burdened with their daily survival to waste energy hating distant enemies.

So instead, Francec spoke of the Empire’s ritocratic ideals.

“...The path is open. Of course, from a distance, it may seem closed. If soone tells you to open a door while you stand in utter darkness, even if a door truly exists, finding it would be nearly impossible. Light is far, darkness is near, and hardship and adversity always weigh upon us.”

Gradually, more and more people turned their attention to his speech—not because of the spectacle, but because of his words.

“But true citizens of the Empire are born in harsh environnts. Our ancestors, exiled from Earth, cultivated barren, inhospitable planets. We began in the wastelands of Planet Novus and built this grand city with our own hands. Our strength does not co from abundance but from deprivation. And now...”

Suddenly, Francec looked at .

As if on cue, the hologram’s input device adjusted, and I was projected alongside him through the output lens.

Wiiiiiing!

A full-body hologram of appeared next to Francec, perfectly scaled to match his own.

“Take off your helt, Luka.”

Francec switched off the microphone as he spoke.

“So you really intend to put in a difficult position.”

I frowned inside my helt. I knew exactly what he was trying to do.

“Far from it—I intend to make you a hero.”

I could not refuse his command. The crowd’s attention was fixated on us. If I defied Francec, it would be seen as an insult to the royal family itself.

For now, I had to follow his plan—no matter how much I despised it.

Chiik!

The pressure seal between my helt and chest plate released. Cold air brushed against the back of my neck.

Srrk.

I removed my helt, staring at the crowd with an expressionless face. My history and personal information appeared alongside my giant holographic figure.

‘Fucking hell...’

I wanted nothing more than to grab Francec by the scruff of his neck and slam him into the ground. But if I did, I’d be executed on the spot.

Francec shalessly revealed every detail of my personal life to the public.

“Here stands a boy who embodies the very essence of an Imperial citizen! A citizen among citizens—the truest of the true Accretians!”

The details of my history scrolled upward in holographic text. Major missions, military dals, battles I had participated in, the elimination of the Lamones family, and even the killing of the terrorist Rick were all listed.

But more than anything... it even ntioned that I had killed a noble inside a torture facility.

Technically, that was Iskan’s doing. But it seed they weren’t even trying to cover it up anymore.

“He... he killed nobles? But that kid is one of us, a lower-district native!”

“What are you talking about? He’s a noble.”

“It says here he was adopted for his abilities, idiot. He’s originally from an orphanage.”

Not just one or two—according to this, I had killed dozens of nobles, including the entire Lamones family. A mix of truth and lies, but the weight of the falsehoods was overwhelming.

Francec grabbed one of my arms and raised it high.

“WAAAAAAH!!”

The sheer volu of the crowd’s cheers made the entire plaza tremble.

A lower-district native had judged and executed nobles with his own hands. The people were ecstatic. They found it exhilarating.

Even the expressions of the soldiers were changing in response to the fervor. The atmosphere was dangerously close to overheating.

My record finished scrolling. Anyone who could read would understand I was no ordinary person. And Francec had exaggerated even the smallest missions and battles to make them seem extraordinary.

“If you spread propaganda about a lower-district native killing nobles, it’ll cause more harm than good,” I whispered, making sure my voice didn’t reach the microphone.

Francec responded with a bright smile.

“I believe the benefits outweigh the risks.”

The people of the lower district were now shouting Francec’s na and mine in turn. At this mont, he truly seed like a champion of the common people.

‘Francec’s reckless stunt.’

Even Iskan was caught off guard. anwhile, the nobles and officials who had accompanied the procession were busy reporting the situation to their respective families and higher authorities.

“Is this another one of your younger brother’s ideas?” I asked.

Francec simply shrugged. He had noticed the cheers beginning to settle and smoothly resud his speech.

“Lukaus Custoria—no, it would be more fitting to call him Luka. This young man stands by my side today because he proved his abilities. I believe Luka embodies the very spirit of the Empire, a true hero. To him, a harsh environnt was not an obstacle but rely a backdrop against which he proved his superiority—just like our ancestors did!”

Francec placed both hands on my shoulders and gave a firm nod.

"My duty is protection. I’ll be putting my helt back on," I said as I pressed it down onto my head.

But it was already too late. My na and information would spread across all of Akbaran.

By tomorrow, there wouldn’t be a soul who didn’t know who I was. Gabriel, Gilda, and Grace would all learn the truth...

Clench.

The mont my helt was back on, I bit down hard on my lip. But even that wasn’t enough to contain my rage—I ground my teeth furiously, tasting blood in my mouth.

“Luka! Luka! Lukaaaaa—!!”

I was nothing more than a tool of Imperial propaganda now. The crowd chanted my na, but they weren’t truly looking at . They were cheering for the fictional Luka that Francec had created.

“A true citizen of the Empire is not born above, but below! Incompetence must be condemned by its very nature, while ability must be recognized no matter where it is found!”

Francec gestured up and down as he spoke, his words walking a dangerous line. It wasn’t anti-Imperial rhetoric, but it was undeniably anti-noble. It almost sounded as if he was implying that the current nobility was incompetent. Well... there was so truth to that.

Francec’s speech concluded, and the massive hologram projecting his image flickered out. But the crowd’s cheers remained.

“If I offended you, I apologize, Lukaus Custoria. But I need your strength. Not all revolutions start from below—so begin from above.”

...But before you can even start your revolution, you will die. At the hands of your father and brother.

The words burned in my throat, but I swallowed them.

Perhaps mistaking my silence for resentnt, Francec awkwardly rubbed his neck and continued.

"You are too valuable to remain in the shadows. I want you to be the symbol, the idol of my vision for rule. You are more than capable of fulfilling that role."

My throat felt dry. To , he was already a dead man speaking. His face looked like a skull.

“...I will do my best, however little that may be,” I finally replied.

Francec stretched out his hands, clasped mine, and smiled broadly.