The Good Teacher

While Guy formulated his plans to improve the psychological health of the True World Sect members as well as raise their overall moral base, the caravan continued its paced crawl through the capital. The path was clear and wide, with minimal deviations barring the two enormous bridges connecting the two banks of the Indigo-Chill and the Ragged-Current rivers. Along the way, the caravan met with others heading in the same direction, until eventually a long line of slow-moving traffic started to form.

The line moved at a snail's pace but moved forward nonetheless. And as it did so, the capital's grand form started to draw closer, until it spanned the entire horizon. Once the capital grew large enough to cover every inch of Guy's line of sight, he was drawn out of his contemplative stupor and managed to fully absorb the great beast which could very well have been larger than the largest cities back on Earth. A massive wall of red stone surrounded the city. Intermittently scattered around the walls were openings and entrances that were strictly policed by squadrons of heavily armoured and armed guards. Many lines of caravans, carriages and even walkers converged at these entrances and awaited the go-ahead from the walking metal cans of death. The filter was stringent, no one without proper identification and purpose of entry could pass the gates.

From a distance, Guy was enamoured by the sheer scale of the structure and its imposing architecture. But upon arriving closer, his awe faltered and was replaced by a worried and affected frown. During their journey to the capital, and a bit prior, Guy had grown aware of the impending refugee crisis affecting the Empire. Hordes of refugees were escaping the harsh North and seeking asylum in the South. This was augmented by the displaced citizens of the Empire due to the plague affecting the northern regions. This type of mass movement of people from regions of conflict wasn't a new experience for Guy, for he had travelled through many such places in his previous life. It was a horrid affair - to give up one's home because living there no longer becomes tractable is a horrible feeling. Worse yet is to seek out newer pastures but be denied the possibility to start anew and be forced to live like animals - to be herded, contained and live off of scraps. It is dehumanising.

The decision to accept and allow refugees to assimilate into the local diaspora is a decision that must stem from the goodness of one's heart. Unfortunately, most political decisions are steeped in bias and selfishness. No matter how much people argue over the benefits of allowing refugees to immigrate and assimilate, a good portion of politicians stands against the choice because they inherently fear the dilution of the original culture and the "staining" of the common values that prevail in the region. The problem shifts from talking about people to talking about the abstract concept of the nation itself.

To an extent, this selfishness and bias were smothered in Guy's previous life for one crucial reason - the Internet. The Internet makes people who have public profiles accountable for their words and their actions. A politician can no longer get away with lying blatantly. A politician cannot get away with throwing around racial slurs and discriminatory talks. A politician cannot denounce the meat industry and get caught eating a juicy hamburger in a global fast-food franchise.

Furthermore, with the prevailing concepts of free speech and human rights, politicians can quickly find their careers in murky waters if their official stance on topics such as the mass migration of refugees borders on inhumane territories. Because of this, the reception of refugees back on Earth was far superior (not without room for improvement, though) to the conditions they faced in this one.

The people on Gaea lacked the motivation to care about a fellow human because the basic human is selfish by design - it is an animalistic instinct to care for oneself before others. Only a select few are selfless - these folk cannot be found in political offices. On Earth, these selfish mooks were kept in check and motivated to be selfless since their actions and words were forever immortalised on the Internet. One wouldn't want their legacy to be a collection of colourful phrases denigrating refugees! On Gaea, without the Internet maintaining checks and balances, there was no such motivation. For one, there was no such thing as equality in this world with the class divides in place. Secondly, the newspapers were a joke - they lacked substance and depth. Who would people complain to? What would they complain about? Ultimately, would it even matter?

At that moment, Guy saw one of the guards punch a grovelling man garbed in tattered clothes and wearing a sack for a shirt in his gut. The man collapsed with a loud wheeze and was then unceremoniously lifted and tossed to the side like a ragdoll, only to be carried away by a few of his equally destitute brethren.

"Are they allowed to do that?" Guy could not help from blurting out. He couldn't stand the sight at all!

As he followed the men carrying the groaning man, he found a large congregation of haphazard tents a short distance away from the walls, going along it. The tents were made of simple cloth, and leather for a select few who were luckier or able to lord themselves over others. Within this congregation, Guy caught a horde of men, women and a few children wearing equally deteriorating clothes and living in overall squalor. An aura of loss and despondency hung over this horde; just one look and Guy could tell that these were refugees. Guy's heart ached to see the kids running barefoot and extremely malnourished, scooping and shoving a handful of mud into their mouths. There was no proper sanitation - a sense-rending stench prevailed in the air that worsened the already dour aura hanging over the area.

"That's not hygienic!" Jean said worriedly. She also saw the sad state of affairs and her healer's heart screamed with sorrow. "Why are they being corralled here like this? It is unsafe, unhealthy and improper..." She droned on.

"It is a multi-faceted issue, Young Mistress. For one, the Capital is fairly dense and integrating such a large influx of people into it will be difficult without additional government spending to accommodate them," Josie explained. "Furthermore, it's not like assimilating them into the Capital will make any difference. For better or worse, their living conditions inside will be no better than what it is out here. If I were them, I'd probably go somewhere else."

"It's because they have nowhere else to go that these people are flocking here," Guy explained. "No other place will accept them due to their origins. The fact that they have nothing to their names provides little in terms of confidence. Handling and resettling refugees is a monumental task, one that requires a hands-on and empathetic approach."

"Is there something we can do?" Markus asked.

"There might be," Guy muttered as his sights narrowed on a particular group of kids sneaking over to a caravan with no escorts. While one of them distracted the occupants by loudly begging for food, the rest of the kids silently crawled below the caravan and grabbed onto to carriage from below, hanging on like monkeys.

Guy couldn't contain his incredulity as he asked, "Won't they just end up getting caught by the guards?"

After all, mana sense basically worked like an X-Ray scanner - even the most basic of mages could detect the presence of additional lifeforms below the carriage by approaching and extending their senses in that direction.

"The guards won't catch them because, most likely, those kids might be affiliated with the Beggar's sects operating in this region," Josie explained.

"There's a sect for beggars?" Guy's first thought was to affiliate them with the similarly named Beggar's Sect from Wuxia novels in his past life.

"They mostly operate in the grey and black markets. Some categorise them unorthodox, others don't - it's a very fine line," Josie explained with an uncharacteristic groan. "Their speciality lies in the... 'vocational' practices."

Noticing Markus and Jean's blank gazes, Josie sighed and said, "Information gathering, smuggling, theft and in some cases kidnapping. They are also known to take on unusual tasks such as luring, distraction, and in even rarer cases, murder."

"How haven't they been expelled or destroyed? They sound dangerous!" Markus exclaimed.

Josie shrugged and explained, "The Beggar's sects are named such because there is a powerhouse in their back. Although they don't advertise martial strength, they are by no means a weak organisation. Additionally, the Beggar's sects mostly dabble in minor crimes, nothing too egregious to require heavy action. Truthfully, annihilating crime from a region is a myth - even the cleanest of cities can espouse villains of some kind. So, it is better to have an evil that you know and can negotiate with than one you cannot. Finally, any Beggar's sect can never be truly destroyed as they do not have a monolithic structure to call their base like regular sects. The saying goes that 'wherever beggars roam shall one find a Beggar's Sect'."

"They seem quite young to participate in such dangerous activities," Guy commented as the caravan the kids were hiding under passed through the gate with nary a word from the guard.

"These are the kinds of folk the Beggar's sects recruit from. People, mostly kids, with nothing and hoping to find a way to crawl out of the pit they've been buried in. The desperate ones! The Sect in the city probably pays them a few measly coppers to pickpocket, collect information, and spread rumours. Those kids then use that money to support their families struggling outside."

Guy hummed thoughtfully as Josie finished her explanation. He wasn't comfortable with the casual exploitation of children for crime. He really wanted to help them out - if he were in his past life once again he'd rush out and do so without question. However, Guy had more responsibilities now.

'This can be done later,' Guy said to himself as he tried to swallow the bile surging out his mouth. He never thought that there would come one day when he'd wave away the suffering of innocent children for something else!