I was a tax collector.
Collecting taxes was my livelihood. Naturally, that made me a pariah. Those who did approach me usually did so with one goal: to offer a bribe and convince me to look the other way.
Life would have been easier if I had just played along, but I couldn't bring myself to take a bribe. I had a fundamental aversion to the idea of accepting money to twist the rules. Some tried to bypass me and offer the money to my wife or son, but they both shared my convictions and turned them away. I was truly blessed with a wonderful family.
Then, one day, the hammer fell.
I was suddenly framed for a crime I hadn't committed and banished from the city alongside my family. It seemed my refusal to take bribes had made me an obstacle for those who did. My superior, who had been fed a constant stream of lies by my corrupt colleagues, refused to even hear my side of the story.
I suppose I should have been grateful they didn't kill me. With that thought in mind, I left the only home I’d ever known.
After years of wandering as a refugee, we eventually drifted to Village Five in the Demon Kingdom. It was a brand-new settlement—well, a village—and I opened a small shop selling trinkets. Fortunately, I was quite handy and reasonably skilled at woodworking. With my wife and son helping out, we soon managed to earn enough to start building a savings.
As my life stabilized, my mind found room to wander. I began to look at my new home more critically.
How exactly did the tax system in Village Five work? The only thing I’d paid so far was the poll tax—the flat fee every resident pays regardless of age. Even then, I’d had to seek someone out to pay it voluntarily.
What’s more, the rate was absurdly cheap. Two Large Copper Coins per person. Could a place like this really survive on that? In most cities, a poll tax would run a person seventy or eighty Large Copper Coins.
Thinking back, no tax collector had ever set foot in my shop. Normally, they’d show up once or twice a year to demand a cut based on the size of the business. Was it because the village was still so new that the system wasn't in place? Or were they just shorthanded?
I owed this village a great debt. It was because of this place that my family could finally stop wandering. Though I’d had my fill of the profession, I decided that if my knowledge and experience could be of any use, I would offer them. I visited the Village Council Hall and explained my background.
That must have done the trick, because I was officially hired as a Tax Collector for Village Five. That was four years ago, during my second year in the village.
By the way, being a tax collector here was essentially a part-time job. There was no work outside the collection period, so I kept running my trinket shop. The season varied by region, but in Village Five, we collected in the autumn.
When autumn arrived, I disappeared from my shop.
Yes, I hid. That was the fundamental rule for a tax collector in Village Five. I donned a disguise. Growing or shaving a beard was a given, as was dyeing one’s hair. The most dedicated collectors began hiding as early as summer, changing their physical builds to transform into completely different people. I wasn't quite that committed; I simply bought an expensive mirror and used self-suggestion to stay in character.
Why go to such lengths? The answer was simple: I was a Village Five Tax Collector.
A tax collector's job was to collect taxes accurately and fairly. I would never commit an injustice. I swore as much to the Acting Village Head. I collected the designated amount, and not a copper more. I did it coldly and efficiently, as inevitable as the rising and setting of the sun.
And that was why I absolutely could not accept a single coin over the specified amount. Yes, even when they offered too much!
Once people realized I was a tax collector, they tried to force extra money on me however they could. I understood the sentiment. The taxes here were so low it made the residents worry. They wanted Village Five to remain stable and prosperous for a long time. They wouldn't have minded paying double the rate—even doubled, it was still vastly cheaper than anywhere else.
But I could not take it!
I was a contractor entrusted with the specific task of collecting a set amount. If I accepted more than the law required, I would have had to hand that excess over to the village administration. But do you think they’d take it? Of course not. They sent me out because they didn't want to deal with it in the first place!
If I took it and couldn't pass it on to the village, I would have become a corrupt official who lined his own pockets through illegal collections. To avoid that, the tax collectors of Village Five vanished during the season. We hid so that no one could find us.
The Acting Village Head, worried about the 'overheated' nature of these attempts to pay, eventually ruled that tax collection could only occur during daylight hours. Nights were safe, though the moments just before dawn were the most perilous. I had to start moving well before the sun peaked over the horizon.
Seeing sketches of the tax collectors' faces posted all over town had become a seasonal tradition.
Wait... that was a sketch of me. It was my current disguise.
I had to change it, and fast. How was I compromised? Was it my wife? My son? They’d both been pestering me about wanting to pay their taxes lately. No, no, I shouldn't have suspected my family. I just needed to change my look.
"There he is! It's a tax collector!"
Was I found?!
I scrambled to move. Hiding was a mistake once I’d been spotted. However, no pursuit followed. I looked over and saw a group rushing in the opposite direction. It seemed they’d found a different collector.
What a relief. Whoever you were, colleague, stay strong! Keep running!
Once caught, a tax collector was in grave danger. They would be confined to a luxury inn with no escape, subjected to a relentless barrage of hospitality from dawn until dusk. They would stay there until winter, when the tax season officially ended. They would certainly get fat. And since it was harder to shed weight in the winter, the struggle would begin anew. They would have to get back into fighting shape before the next autumn season began. If they couldn't, they'd just be caught again.
Phew.
I took a deep breath and centered myself. I was a cold, ruthless tax collector. I would never accept a single coin beyond the mandated amount.
As a final note, not a single bit of my past experience or knowledge has been of use in this job. But that stood to reason. Village Five was simply too bizarre.
And I loved it for that.
Hii (Village Five Military Officer): "Isn't this just a city-wide game of tag with the Reaper?"
Roku (Village Five Civil Official): "It really is. Though it's definitely strange that the goal is to catch them just to pay money..."
Nana (Village Five Spy): "That tax collector is moving better than half the spies in the city. It’s honestly startling."
Village Councilor A: "Looks like they're having fun."
Village Councilor B: "This is no time for that! If we don't figure out a plan, we're going to be buried under all this extra tax money!"
Village Councilor A: "Normally, that's a good problem to have."
Village Councilor B: "It's a problem because we have no way to process it! Unless you’re suggesting we just pocket the difference?"
Village Councilor A: "I would never! How dare you even suggest it."
Village Councilor B: "Then absolutely do not accept it. We have no use for taxes we can't legally account for!"
Village Councilor A: "U-Understood."
This Time's Tax Collector: "I have come to ask if I might be of service as a tax collector."
Yoko: "Wait, really? You’re sure? For real?"