"Well then, follow what these people say and do your job properly! Hehehe, thank you very much!"
Saying that, he gave me a strong push on the back and pushed me towards that person.
Yes, to the man who had apparently offered to adopt me...
So far, several children had been adopted.
However, this only occurred once every few years, if that.
Of course. Disease, accidents, war, banditry, and so on. People died often, and the number of orphans increased.
If there was a couple who wanted children, among their siblings, relatives, and friends, there were likely one or two people who had died leaving behind children. There were those who had lost both parents, those who had one surviving parent but were in no condition to raise a child, and so on...
Therefore, rather than adopting a complete stranger from an orphanage, it was normal to adopt "a child from someone you're not strangers to," and there weren't many people who would adopt a child from an orphanage whose circumstances or lineage they didn't know.
Well, it was understandable. After taking in and raising a child for many years, there were cases where "so-called real parents" would come and demand the child back, claiming they needed them to take care of them in their old age. They would shout, make demands for money, or even forcibly take the child away, whether their claims were true or not...
Still, on rare occasions, there would be people who wanted to take in an orphan, and when such a person showed up, the ward would thoroughly investigate the person's circumstances and identity. If there were no problems, the child would be handed over to the family. The ward would then check on the child periodically thereafter.
...Until six months ago.
Half a year ago, the dad who had invested his personal fortune to establish the orphanage long ago and had continued to run it for decades, tearfully retired due to old age. The uncle, who was entrusted with the orphanage afterward (since there was only one dad), marked a change in the atmosphere.
We were being adopted at a rate of about one every two to three months, and new ones were arriving, as if to replenish them.
And for some reason, we were taken to other countries, not this country.
There were orphanages in each country, and there were many children who could not even get into orphanages, so why did they go to the trouble of bringing them from other countries...?
Everyone had wondered about it, but there was nothing they could do, and when they asked adults, they just laughed at them and said, "You're probably jealous of the kids who were adopted."
Then my turn came, and at the age of eight I was adopted by a mid-ranking merchant family in a neighboring country.
Yes, I was supposed to have been adopted as an adopted daughter.
However, what awaited me when I arrived at the merchant's house in the neighboring country was not the life of a merchant's daughter, but a life as an employee, working unpaid from early in the morning until late at night... No, a life as a slave.
...That was not what they said.
I was supposed to have been adopted. That's why I passed the orphanage's screening for adopting an orphan.
However, for some reason, on paper I was listed as a live-in servant with 50 years' wages paid in advance, meaning I was effectively a slave.
...I was deceived.
Yes, I thought that uncle, who was not used to running an orphanage, had probably not done enough research and had been deceived by these people. In dad's time, the number of adopted children was much smaller, so perhaps the screening process likely had become more lenient.
So, it took me nearly a year to ascertain the situation, research the route and distance to return to the orphanage, and what I would need to do, while also secretly saving up the minimum amount of money for the journey.
...Without a salary, I had to save up tips from customers and iron coins I picked up on the street, and it was hard to save up enough money to buy a few days' worth of hard bread.
If you spend the night outdoors, walking through the forest eating grass and nuts, you don't need much money.
And, of course, when I made my escape, I planned to sneak through the shops and grab as many waterskins, food, and other items that might be of value.
Theft? No no, it's a bargain compared to a year's salary.
Besides, I didn't think I should be charged with a crime if it was necessary to escape the home of a kidnapper and illegal slave trafficker who lied to me and kidnapped me.
Yeah, no problem.
By the time I was nearly ready, I was nine years old and beginning to feel in danger.
…Yes, "in that area"…
Around that time, a six-year-old boy was taken in from an orphanage different from the one I was in.
...under the pretext of being adopted.
Of course, the reality was that, like me, he was unpaid laborers, practically a slave.
The seniors who were bought before me had already given up on everything, or they were simply spending their days listlessly. However, this child, who resembled Jessie, who had been so fond of me when I was at the orphanage, had not yet given up and become despairing. And for some reason, he had grown fond of me, even though I pretended to be obedient on the surface.
I quickly changed my plans and decided to take this child with me.
What, it just slows you down a little and uses twice as much food. Not a big deal.
And then, we waited for "that day"...
"Wake up, Aral..." (Mine)
"Mmm……" (Aral)
I spoke softly to the sleepy Aral in a small voice.
"I'm getting out of here. Do you want to come with me?" (Mine)
"Yes! I'll follow you wherever you go!" (Aral)
Aral was a clever boy. He opened his sleepy eyes wide and nodded in a small but firm voice.
"Perfect! Alright, let's start the operation!!" (Mine)
I knew where the water bottles were, the food supplies, and the change were. I hadn't been a servant for a year for nothing. I stuffed everything I needed into my bag.
I had carefully calculated how much one person could carry and had decided exactly what type and amount of things I would take with me. I also recalculated based on Aral's consumption and what he could carry and quickly made my preparations.
The money, all the silver coins and higher, was kept in a safe, but the iron and copper coins prepared as change are in a desk drawer with a simple lock. It was not a significant amount.
...That kind of thing could be opened easily if you really wanted to.
This wasn't "stealing."
They only paid me a tiny fraction of my year's salary.
And the rest would be paid for in a different way—a little more drastically.
Important documents for big transactions were kept in the safe.
However, small transactions, ordinary documents that were not evidence of monetary transactions, memos, and transaction schedules were normally kept in a desk drawer.
...I stuffed them all into a sack.
I wouldn't be carrying it around all the time. I would just throw them in the river when I got there, so it would be fine as long as it was an amount I could carry temporarily.
Yes, to cause some chaos in the store and reduce the number of people searching for us.
And then…….
I quietly unlocked the door, went outside, and attached the paper I had prepared to the door.
I was taught how to read and write by dad and mom at the orphanage.
In my clumsy handwriting, I wrote with all my might about us "adopted slaves," the store's underhanded tactics, the tax evasion methods, the double pricing, the forged and altered documents, and so on...
We had learned about business transactions, taxes, and bookkeeping at the orphanage.
…Or rather, I was taught how to do it in order to help dad when his eyesight deteriorated and it became difficult for him to keep the books. Then, for about a year before dad retired, I was in charge of recording the orphanage's books.
But here, I pretended to know nothing. The merchants and clerks, thinking I wouldn't understand, would talk openly about their fraudulent activities even when I was present.
"Listen, Mine. Many people try to make themselves look better than they really are. But if they do that, won't they just end up disappointing the other person when the truth is revealed later? But if they are underestimated at first, then surely they will be happy when they find out your true abilities? And best of all... it's easier to do a lot of things if the other person is making fun of you and letting their guard down."
Yes, that's what dad taught me.
Also, if you are deceived or exploited, you should always inflict losses on the other person that exceed the gains they have made from it.
Otherwise, they'll just exploit their next victim in the same way.
That's why it's necessary to make them realize that if they laid hands on children in orphanages, not only they would not only not gain anything but would also suffer huge losses.
If we were to just give in and not let it happen, it wouldn't just be our own loss, many of my juniors would become prey to those who had gotten a taste of it.
And I learned many more things.
"In the worst-case scenario, you should stab your enemy. That way, you can at least protect many of your juniors."
"Deal as much damage to the enemy as possible and give them no room to intervene."
"Use your anger as fuel and feed it to your violent ego! Then, invincible power will well up within you..."
"One who has nothing to lose is invincible!"
I wondered what dad was doing before he opened the orphanage...
And, I wondered how he had obtained the funds to establish the orphanage...
But perhaps his teaching was correct. So, I decided to follow and adhere to his teaching.
"...Okay, let's escape!" (Mine)
Afterwards, we pasted the same paper on the door of the commercial guild, on a public relations signboard in the plaza, and in several other places, and fled the city.
It was not a fortified city, and the city wasn't surrounded by walls, so there was no problem getting out of the city.
All that's left now was to walk with Aral towards our nostalgic home, the orphanage!
No matter how many days or even tens of days it would take.
Even if it meant sipping muddy water and eating grass.
...Going home.
I will definitely come home.
To the orphanage where my friends are...
...And then, why was I being glared at by the older sister with the eyes of a murderer who had probably killed at least dozens of people, holding a dagger, and being aimed at with a weapon that seemed clearly more powerful than a bow...
"Ahhh!!" (Mine + Aral)
Both Aral and I jumped back and fell on our bottoms.
"D-don't kill us!!" (Mine)
At that time, neither I nor Aral thought anything of it.
That was the beginning of our glory days...