Hero Of Darkness

Chapter 1133 Muffled Whispers

Chapter 1133  Muffled Whispers

Just like that, another week passed. Despite the explosive broadcast and the overwhelming truth laid bare by Whisper, the everyday grind of life in the Rakos Empire trudged on... only now it was tinged with bitter disillusionment. Protests did break out as the people, fueled by anger and despair, took to the streets in a desperate bid for justice. However, as soon as the saints and semi-saints appeared... armed with their overwhelming power and the backing of the corrupt regime... the fervor of the demonstrators was swiftly extinguished. In a matter of moments, protestors were rounded up, captured, and thrown into jail, their voices silenced by the brutal efficiency of the system.

In the wake of the unrest, only a handful of low-level officials chose to resign, their departures a feeble gesture against an institution that had long been a farce. The Court of Law, a joke even by Earth's standards, played its part in this macabre theater... it held trials, forced appearances, and prosecuted a few minor offenders as if such actions could somehow restore balance or justice.

Amidst the subdued murmurs of those who had gathered in public squares and humble meeting spots across the empire, conversations were held in hushed, defeated tones. In one cramped settlement, an elderly demonkin... bald and lined with the weariness of many years... spoke up in a voice heavy with bitterness.

"What's even the point of being a lawful citizen and paying taxes to these bastards who just fill their own pockets with our money? I mean, if you take out the importance of the military, what use is there for the government anyway? My house isn't being renovated, and the streets aren't getting cleaner or better paved than before. Inflation has tripled in the past ten years, yet the average salary hasn't even increased by twenty percent. Do we even have any hope for better lives now?"

Across the table, a gray wolfkin... its fur mottled with the shades of defeat... leaned in and hissed softly...

"Shhh!... Don't be so pessimistic. It's not as if things turned bad just after that Whisper broadcast. They've always been like this. No matter who we choose as our next leader, they'll be no different from these corrupt fuckers."

BANG!!

Before the conversation could settle, a sudden bang noise shattered the low murmur of resigned discussion. In the same settlement, a young Snakekin, barely in his mid-twenties and eyes burning with fury, slammed his fist onto the table. "DAMN IT!! I can't tolerate this anymore! All my life, I was shown a dream... that if I studied hard and became a good person, I could get a decent job and live an honorable life. I prepared for competitive exams for the past five years, and you're telling me that the whole system was rigged from the very beginning?!"

The outburst drew a moment of stunned silence before an elderly elf, whose weathered features spoke of decades of hardship and struggle, sighed deeply and replied in a voice tinged with resigned sorrow.

"Easy there, youngling. We all harbor our own contempt towards this government. But what can we, the weak and the poor, do? We're too insignificant, too powerless to stand up and fight for our rights in this world. There is no hope for commoners like us."

And so, amid the fractured hopes and muted despair of the common people, the reality of the Rakos Empire set in.

"At least when the royal family was still in charge back then... I remember that they controlled the empire with an iron fist. I never felt that all my struggles and efforts were without result. Since they were overthrown a hundred years ago... life hasn't been the same." said the elderly elf, his voice heavy with a mix of nostalgia and resignation.

"It was very strict. But it at least upheld the law and didn't show any mercy to corrupt bastards like these."

His words resonated deeply with many who had lived long enough to witness the stark differences between the eras. Across the empire, individuals of various species... those who had experienced the old regime... gathered in quiet clusters, sharing their own recollections and experiences. They spoke of a time when, despite the oppressive nature of rule, there was at least a semblance of fairness in the system. Under the royal family's rule, positions of power were reserved for a class, yes, but those positions were not entirely monopolized by birthright. There was a fighting chance for commoners to amass wealth, achieve valor, and rise within the business world, government, and even the military based on their personal achievements.

In hushed tones, they recalled the Whitlock Imperial Family... once deposed and now vilified by the history books following the revolution. Despite the propaganda that painted them as villains, many remembered that the Whitlocks had governed with a degree of fairness and justice that allowed even the lowliest subjects a chance to better their lives. For those who had lived under that rule, the memory of having a fair chance, however imperfect, was a sharp contrast to the current state of affairs.

The sentiment spread like wildfire among the people. In every corner of the empire, a growing anger simmered beneath the surface... a rage that only seemed to intensify with each passing day. Yet, the government, desperate to maintain control, had countered this rising discontent with a narrative of its own. They declared that Whisper, the device that had so brutally exposed corruption, was nothing more than a spy tool... a device engineered to invade the minds of the netizens and foment civil war. With such claims, the government managed to shield its officials and cronies from legitimate prosecution.

As a result, the courts across the empire found themselves powerless to act decisively. They either dismissed the cases or dragged them out interminably, leaving the culprits largely unpunished. Even the media, once hailed as the truthful spokesperson for the people, shifted its tone abruptly. The once fiery and impassioned reports on corruption turned skeptical and dismissive, with headlines questioning the validity of the holographic transmissions and branding them as elaborate forgeries.

People knew all too well that this was exactly the outcome that had been predicted. The system was designed to absorb shock and discredit any uprising of truth. No matter how damning the evidence, the machinery of power was adept at deflecting blame and twisting narratives. For the common citizen... those who had once dared to hope for a better future... this was a bitter pill to swallow. They had been promised freedom and fairness, yet they were left with a rigged system where even their protest against corruption was stifled by a judiciary that bowed to the interests of the powerful.

Discussions carried a tone of despair in the shadowed corners of taverns and at the worn tables of community gatherings. "What's the point of being a lawful citizen and paying taxes when our money only fills the pockets of these corrupt elites?" someone would ask quietly. Others lamented that despite the promises of progress and security, their neighborhoods remained rundown, their wages stagnant, and their futures uncertain.

Thus, as the world of the Rakos Empire grappled with the aftershocks of the Whisper broadcast, it became painfully clear that the entrenched powers had no intention of relinquishing control. The broadcast had ignited a spark of truth among the people, but that spark was now being smothered by a system adept at using fear, deception, and half-truths to maintain its dominion.

And what could they possibly do? Go to war? With what funding, what power? The common people realized that even a first-stage saint could, through sheer saint pressure alone, take the lives of millions. No matter how righteous one might be, no one wanted to perish in a meaningless death... especially when the weight of the entire empire's corruption pressed down like a death sentence.

As the week wore on, a grim resignation settled over the populace. They began to accept, with a heavy heart, that their fate was hopelessly sealed by a system designed to crush any hope of meaningful change. The protest fires had long since been doused by the relentless might of the saints and their enforcers, and the people were left with nothing but the bitter taste of defeat and despair.

Then, as whispers turned to hushed conversations in darkened corners and crowded marketplaces, a new rumor began to spread across the entire Rakos Empire.

A big truth was finally revealed to the masses. The truth about...

Why Kahn Salvatore was murdered.

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