Naruto: Passerby and Returnee

Chapter 246 Dawn Breaks

As everyone knows, the Land of Snow has no spring; the temperature only varies between cold and extremely cold. There is only a very short window of opportunity each year to grow crops such as grains and vegetables, and even if a good harvest is achieved, not much of the produce is necessarily left for the farmers.

The ruler of the Snow Country has designated all farmland in the country as private land and forcibly levied taxes such as grain tax and land rent—terms that are difficult to understand. If the original amounts were reported, less than half of the grain would likely be retained. Therefore, farmers must maintain good relations with the tax collectors sent down from above, trying every means to conceal some of their yield and striving to retain half of their harvest for storage during the long winter.

However, the proportion of grain to be handed over was fixed, while the harvest depended entirely on the weather. This year, winter came too early, and the fields yielded only small, immature potatoes. If the seeds were also harvested, there would be very little left to eat. But the farmers dared not eat the seeds, because once the seeds ran out, they would no longer be allowed to cultivate the land. Without the right to use the land, their houses would be confiscated, and their entire families would become vagrants, forced to seek a living in the mines.

But were the old men's mines a place fit for humans? Meals there consisted of nothing but soup and water, and the work was incredibly arduous. A healthy person could age several years in just a few months. It was a cannibalistic place, hell in the eyes of the Snow Kingdom's people; even those who couldn't survive there didn't want to eke out a living there. To ensure a sufficient labor force, the mines housed not only desperate commoners but also "criminals" exiled by the nobles.

Prague belonged to the latter group; he too had once enjoyed privileged privileges, possessing a comfortable job in a laboratory. However, the events of ten years ago changed everything. His father was caught up in the chaos of a coup and ultimately died for resisting the current monarch. To demonstrate his hypocritical benevolence, the monarch imprisoned him and his mother, who were subsequently transferred to a mine. During their first harsh winter there, his mother died from excessive grief, and he endured the rest of the year alone.

He wanted to become numb, and he thought about giving up, but those experiments that fascinated him were etched in his mind, constantly calling to his soul.

There are still things he must do in this world. Regardless of whether anyone has ever noticed the captivating light piercing through the gemstone, and regardless of whether those data and patterns have ever been discovered, now that he has seen them, he has a mission to record and pass them on.

He is waiting, and he is also working hard.

Where there are no conditions, there are conditions. His literacy was a bonus, which saved him from toiling in the mines every day. His years of "work experience" earned him some pity, and he was given a single room with a small window. Then there was the stroke of luck he had while mining, where he found a few relatively pure crystal scraps, which allowed him to spend a "huge sum" to buy a convex lens, and to make his own protractor and ruler.

He continued his experiments and his unfinished thesis under limited conditions, to this day.

The morning bell didn't ring this day. This was the conclusion Prague drew when he opened his eyes and saw light coming through the crack in the window. As a miner, getting up at the sound of the bell had become a conditioned reflex; not getting up on time not only meant missing breakfast, but also incurring extremely cruel punishments.

The morning bell usually rings before dawn, but today it's very unusual. Could it be because of the explosion at the fortress yesterday?

Prague decided to get up anyway. It wasn't good that no one was bothering him so late, and if he pretended to be absent but was discovered, he would only be punished more severely. However, as he panted through the empty dormitory corridor towards his workplace, he was struck by an unbelievable sight.

He saw the mine owner and his lackeys, bound with ropes and neatly chained to a small platform at the entrance of the canteen. That was where the mine owner "disciplined" these "slaves," and sometimes he would tie up those who tried to escape but were caught. Watching those people hanging there, half-dead, he felt only heartfelt pity and sorrow, for that was his fate too.

But now, is he still asleep, still dreaming?

"Old Bu, you're awake!" The person walking out of the canteen called out to Prague, who was lost in thought. It was his good neighbor, also an "old man," and even the reason for coming in was so similar to his. For a while, this guy had even conspired with him to join the resistance, but as soon as he heard that the resistance was going to bring back "Little Snow Princess," whose fate was unknown, he immediately lost interest and advised his old friend not to mess around.

What kind of success could such an unreliable organization possibly achieve? Even if the princess were still alive and brought back by them, the country wouldn't necessarily be any better off.

But what's going on now? Could it be that the resistance has actually succeeded?

"Go eat, you can watch those bastards later! The food today is absolutely amazing!" Old Yu's voice suddenly lowered, becoming somewhat lewd as he added, "And there are beautiful women to see~"

Prague was completely bewildered, wondering for the second time if he was dreaming. But the aroma of meat wafting from the cafeteria was so real that he went in without Lao Yu's prompting. The place was packed, more crowded than ever before, with even the food pick-up area completely covered up. He took a bowl and joined the queue as usual, only realizing what Lao Yu meant by "beautiful women" when he got closer to the front.

He saw a brown-haired woman with a headscarf, who stood out like a crane among chickens among a group of men. But the moment this beauty opened her mouth, she shattered all illusions. Her voice was surprisingly rough, and she repeatedly warned everyone to line up properly and that everyone would have food to eat.

There was more than one person distributing the meals, but she was definitely more efficient and had a stronger presence than the boys, managing to keep the chaotic crowd under control.

When Prague received his lunchbox, he thought he was sleepwalking. The plate was overflowing, and his small, worn bowl was brimming with fragrant meat broth. His ascetic lifestyle made it difficult for him to immediately discern what kind of meat it was—definitely not the fish he was so sick of eating!

Is he dreaming?

But his imagination has long been so barren that he can't even dream such beautiful dreams anymore, right?