The awards ceremony concluded, and everyone’s morale soared.
Allen had deliberately arranged for the captives, nobles, and liberated slaves to witness the entire process.
Their eyes were filled with complex emotions—so many feelings mingled together.
Those low-level captives were, in fact, the oppressed among the oppressors.
No matter how much money the Thieves’ Guild made, it had nothing to do with them.
Seeing Allen generously reward his subordinates, they thought back on their own days—how foolish they had been, working for the Guild Leader, that greedy pig. Regret gnawed at them.
They understood as well: now that Allen was the new ruler of the underworld, he would never forgive them.
His new organization would prove that the Thieves’ Guild and its lackeys were destined to be swept away by history!
Next came the public trial.
Allen promised that those who voluntarily confessed all their crimes, even if they deserved a thousand deaths, could be spared execution.
Anyone who revealed the crimes of others could also have their sentence reduced.
To ensure justice, the liberated slave girls participated as both plaintiffs and witnesses.
Under their furious, hateful gazes, the captives’ lies fell apart instantly.
Those captives who had tried to coordinate their stories now turned on each other in ugly, desperate dog-eat-dog fashion, all trying to survive.
The public trial raged on.
The members of the Lily Guard and Dawn’s Children listened to the horrifying tales of crime. Their joy in victory was replaced by a heavier sense of duty.
As long as the Old World existed, tragedy would never end.
They had avenged themselves, but compared to the hatred they felt toward the entire Feudal Society, what was this small satisfaction?
To live is to fight for that one breath!
In the end, the hundreds of surviving captives—including the gang members who surrendered above ground—confessed all their crimes, denouncing and hating each other.
Those whose crimes were universally hated and condemned, those whose guilt was too great, were executed personally by the slave girls.
These girls didn’t know how to strike a fatal blow—they only knew how to stab blindly with knives, turning the executions into a long, torturous ordeal.
Many of the condemned witnessed this and begged Allen to grant them a quick death.
Allen coldly refused. “You filth! When the innocent begged you for mercy, did you grant them any kindness? Now, taste the evil you yourselves have sown!”
The public trial became an unprecedented lesson for all.
The villains who survived were eager to accept labor reform, hoping to atone for their sins in the years they had left.
They were divided into work teams, under Class Solidarity: anyone caught slacking, escaping, or sabotaging would trigger the Eleven Drawing Execution for the entire group, wiping out all contributions.
Allen proved by action that he meant what he said. Work hard, and perhaps there would be hope of seeing the sun again one day.
This effectively exploited the suspicion between captives, making them wary of each other and unable to unite in rebellion.
Especially since reporting others’ crimes could reduce one’s sentence, everyone became zealous to snitch.
The nobles forced to witness all this turned ashen-faced. How could they not realize what this young master, who couldn’t even be bothered to wear a mask, was planning?
Some even recognized Allen as the “infamous” prodigal son Allen de Laval from the Capital!
Only then did they realize that all the disgraceful deeds of this wastrel had been nothing but a disguise! What depths of scheming, what terrifying resolve!
Especially when they looked at Allen’s sacred golden eyes, thinking of how he had banished that monster created by an evil god.
Their hearts brimmed with guilt and remorse—he must be a messenger sent by the Creator to punish the fallen world!
Allen noticed the nobles’ collapse, a sly, satisfied smile curling on his lips.
He was destroying their psychological defenses. In the end, his goal was to turn these wicked nobles into political puppets he could use, making them “atone” with their influence.
The girls who had finally avenged themselves now fell into confusion after their wild joy faded. They didn’t know what to do with their futures.
Dawn’s Children burned the Contracts of Slavery, granting them complete freedom.
But after such physical and spiritual torment, what could they do now?
Allen offered them three choices:
First, take a generous sum for travel and hush money, leave this place, and go home or seek another path (as long as they kept everything secret).
Second, become a maid at the Continental Hotel or a servant for the Laval House, gaining steady work and food for life.
Third, join Dawn’s Children—let their rage and blood become vengeance for their suffering, and work together to overthrow the rotten Old World!
Everyone looked at each other, unsure.
Most had no home to return to—some had even been sold by their own families.
The second choice was safe, but the flames of vengeance still burned in their hearts. They hated this Old World!
“Leader, could you tell us what exactly Dawn’s Children are?” one girl summoned her courage to ask.
Seeing their eager faces, Allen knew they had been moved by his ideals.
He turned to Finn. “Finn, tell everyone—and our Lily Guard comrades as well—about our beliefs.”
Now that Finn had become a Preacher, the work of spreading their ideas naturally fell to him.
Finn walked up to the makeshift podium, meeting the gazes of all present.
Most eyes he could face calmly, but Allen’s and Ella’s made him especially nervous.
Allen’s pressure did not come from a leader’s expectations, but from a deeper fear—
He feared that he stood here not because of his ability, but thanks to a past friendship with “Villain Young Master” Allen and the favor earned by loyalty.
He feared he couldn’t shoulder this responsibility, that he would let Allen down.
As for Ella, the girl he once secretly loved, she brought a different anxiety.
They liked each other. He had kept his promise and saved her.
But deep down, he felt unworthy—she knew his cowardly, timid, thief’s life, and how he used to be “Boss” of the Stray Dogs.
Had he truly said goodbye to his past? Had he really… become someone new?
Just as Finn struggled with his feelings, Hugo—blending in among the crowd—suddenly shouted, “You got this, Finn!” The others joined in with applause and encouragement.
Ella’s gaze was gentle; Allen’s expression was full of pride and support, just like the relief he’d shown when he first reluctantly accepted this “lackey.”
He was no longer the nameless “Sparrow.” He was a Preacher, the leader’s right hand.
So—let’s begin.
Finn did his best to imitate Allen’s oratory style as he started his speech.
He carefully explained the philosophy of Dawn’s Children and the Mutual Aid Society, sharing his personal experiences to make it more compelling.
With empathy, he told his own story: how he had gone from a petty thief named Sparrow in the Old World to a warrior of the New Era.
His words ignited the audience’s dissatisfaction and rage, channeling it into a shared hatred of the Old World.
He posed Allen’s classic question: “Will you rise to greatness, or remain a nameless nobody?” urging everyone to consider whether life’s worth was in mere survival or burning bright.
Unconsciously, Finn began to radiate some of Allen’s charisma.
But he was not Allen: Allen was a dazzling, imposing leader whose speeches overflowed with passion and authority, always convincing (or compelling) others to follow.
Finn, on the other hand, resembled a gentle preacher—like a spring breeze, moistening everything in silence.
He was not another Allen, but the inheritor and interpreter of Allen’s ideals.
What Allen needed was not a more radical theorist, but a loyal companion capable of rallying will and defending the leader.
At the height of emotion, Finn declared with deep feeling, “Leader Allen once told me: I cannot be the sun alone, but even so, the stars can still illuminate the night. He said, even if one day he leaves us, the struggle will go on—because ideas do not fear the sword. Ideas never die!”
“I used to be timid and weak. Even when I liked a girl, I thought myself unworthy. I passed by her countless times, but never dared say a single ‘I like you.’ Because I thought—we weren’t people of the same world.” As he said this, his gaze landed on Ella.
Ella looked at him, her emotions complicated.
This once-innocent flower-selling girl had, in a short time, suffered the destruction of her family, become a contract slave, and almost fallen victim to a cult. Her mind had matured at lightning speed.
Only now did she truly understand the pain Finn had endured and the enormity of his transformation.
Finn was no longer the “Sparrow” trapped in the mud—he was flying again. Sparrows, after all, are among the hardest birds to tame, just like him.
Their eye contact made for a delightful spectacle for everyone else, who began to cheer, “Together! Together!”
Ella’s ears instantly turned red and she lowered her head.
But Finn spoke with a gentle yet resolute voice, “But I was wrong. We are not from two different worlds. On the contrary, we are both trapped in the same world of suffering and sorrow. Leader Allen told me: in this man-eating Old Society, pure, beautiful love is just a fantasy. Yes—even if you find the one you love in such an oppressive world, what then? Even if you have children, aren’t you just creating more slaves for the world?”
“That’s why I became one of Dawn’s Children—not for myself, but so that everyone can find true love and happiness. That is the only thing I can give to the one I love—I want her to see the New World with her own eyes!”