At seven, he ate breakfast with his last friend.
At nine, he spoke with the Judgess of Krizia regarding her house’s rations and the possibility of increasing manpower through her funding.
At eleven, he had a lunch meeting with the leaders of the departments of justice.
At twelve-thirty, he attended the day’s execution. Four nobles of house Saad had been arrested trying to organize a riot in order to break through the southern gates. Kitty had sniffed them out, and handily made away with them. They had all agreed to donate, which was lovely.
At two, he met with the new director in charge of distributing rations. He asked to receive a large portion as his wife had recently given birth.
At three, he took a walk through the city, doing good publicity by personally attending the daily distribution. Someone tried to attack him, but Kitty made away with them.
At six, he ate dinner with the late mayor’s wife, alongside her lady friends. As they were all from various noble families, he had good reason to keep on their best side. One of them confessed to him in private that she had entered the city temporarily to visit friends a few months back, and had been barred from leaving. She begged to be allowed exit.
At nine, he met for evening tea with Judge Lyth of the Ynnre house, and discussed the coming day’s executions. The honorable judge pleaded with him to pardon one of the young men to be executed—one of the twenty or so looters who had gotten to the Fysh house to ravage it before anyone else. As usual, the bodies had been stolen. Another dead house. The young man was apparently the judge’s nephew.
At ten thirty, he spoke in passing with a clutch of guards to encourage them to keep working.
At eleven, he retired for the night. Of course, he spent this time in his office. It wasn’t safe at the manor. If he died, the city died. He had to value his life. He had to work. And so, he worked. He sat at his desk, and all throughout the night, he worked.
Exhaustion Protection Lv.3> Unconsciousness Resistance Lv.9> This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. Hallucination Resistance Lv.5> Psychosis Resistance Lv.2> Delusion Tolerance Lv.7> Brain Damage Tolerance Lv.3> Hallucination Resistance Lv.6> At six, he had an appointment. He stood up, stumbled, and was caught. “Oh,” he said. “Thank you.” “No problem.” He moved on. At eight, his last friend came to visit. They talked. Then his last friend left in a rush. He found it worrying. At nine thirty, while speaking with the new Judge of house Feynix, he worried about his last friend. At twelve, while at a lunch meeting with Fr. Blueroot, he worried about his last friend. At one thirty, while signing off on the new ward by the north gate, he worried about his last friend. At three, he was told that his last friend was no longer in the city. At five past three, he sent him away to bring back his last friend. At three thirty, he waited. At four, he waited. At four thirty, he waited. At five, he waited. At six, he waited. At seven, he waited. At nine, he waited. At midnight, he waited. At two, he waited. At four, he waited. At five, he waited. At five thirty, he waited. At a quarter to six, he waited. At six, his last friend had finally been brought home. At six thirty, he met with the heir to the house of Dagrun regarding the upcoming distribution of rations. At seven, he ate breakfast alone. At a quarter past eight, he went to visit his last friend. At a quarter to nine, he was alone. At nine, he had a meeting with someone and spoke about something. At ten thirty, someone spoke to him, and he answered in Swedish. They didn’t notice. At twelve, he ate lunch together with his shadow. At one, his shadow suggested something, though he wasn’t sure what. He agreed to it. At two thirty, he passed out and woke up. When he realized he wasn’t at home, he cried. At three, he met with a judge about killing people. The judge thought that more people should be killed, because it would save more people. He agreed. In the Arabic numbers, he wrote down a note. 0 + 1 - 1 = 0. So it was okay. At a quarter to four, he vomited. At five, the shadow spoke to him. At some point, the day ended. He was alone. The next day began. He was alone. The next day began. He was alone. It was April, and of the thirty-five thousand remaining survivors, twenty-six thousand, eight-hundred and forty-two were sick. His last friend had been dying for a week. The shadow told him he was sick. On the third of April, at eight in the morning, Emil was admitted into the room adjacent to that of his last friend.