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墨書 Inktalez
Rain's tone gradually shifted, moving from an impassioned vision of the future to the immediate pain of the people.
"Our country is splitting into two worlds," he said in a low voice, slowing his pace slightly as his gaze swept over the crowd, as if examining the scars of this land.
"One world belongs to those in the Elite Class, sitting atop skyscrapers, never worrying about where their next meal will come from; while the other world belongs to you—us—the Grassroots People, who toil every day yet can never truly change our fate."
A low murmur arose from the crowd; some nodded, others cursed under their breath, and a few clenched their fists. His words struck at their most genuine pain.
Rain continued, his voice filled with both anger and sorrow.
"Inflation is making our money thinner, prices are skyrocketing, housing costs are so high that the next generation can only be lifelong tenants. No one dares to have children because we all know this society can no longer provide a future for them!"
"And when the population declines and the workforce disappears, what does the government do? They don’t solve the problem; instead, they bring in Low-Paid Foreign Labor, squeezing our jobs, stagnating our wages, making it even harder for us to survive!"
The anger in the audience began to rise. Some raised their fists and shouted, "That's right!" "It's a scam!" "We’ve been sold out!"
But Rain did not stop. His tone grew even heavier as he shifted his focus to a group that Carter knew all too well—the Veterans.
"Our government claims to respect heroes and support soldiers, but what do these men and women who risked everything for their country receive when the war is over?"
He paused for a moment and then spoke forcefully, word by word:
"It is forgetfulness, it is indifference, it is complete abandonment!"
A low roar erupted from the crowd; some had tears in their eyes, others cursed softly, while many pressed their lips tightly together, enduring their inner fury.
"When these soldiers were young and strong, the government sent them to battle, letting them fight valiantly and sacrifice everything!"
"But when they grow old, injured, and no longer useful, what does the government offer? They receive pitiful Veterans' Benefits, inadequate Medical Insurance that fails to heal their wounds, neglect of Psychological Trauma, and even a harsh reality where they struggle to maintain basic living standards!"
Rain gripped the microphone tightly as his voice grew heavier: "Should our heroes be left homeless? Should our warriors be treated as burdens on society?"
"This is how our government treats heroes, this is the so-called 'honor' they speak of!"
The crowd erupted in shouts and slogans, a storm brewing with every voice raised in support. The atmosphere in the venue had reached a fever pitch, fueled by Rain's words.
At that moment, Carter's heart raced.
The emotions of the audience had been pushed to a boiling point by Rain's speech; anger and passion intertwined as supporters raised their fists, shouting and applauding, like a tempest ready to explode.
However, just as this fervor was about to spiral out of control, Rain's tone suddenly softened.
He took a deep breath, his anger gradually giving way to sorrow and solemnity. His gaze swept over the crowd below, as if he were making eye contact with each individual, making everyone feel seen and understood.
Then he slowly spoke—
"Today, this stage is not just about me."
The crowd fell silent, each person holding their breath in anticipation of Rain's next words.
Rain paused for a moment before speaking in a low voice: "We all know that this country has endured a terrible war, and countless young people—our children, our brothers, our fathers—were sent to the battlefield to bleed and sacrifice for this nation."
"The government told them they were heroes. The government told them they were protecting this land. The government told them that when they returned, they would be welcomed with honor."
"But when they came back, what they received was not honor but indifference, forgetfulness, abandonment."
A murmur of low discussions arose from the crowd as anger surged once more.
Rain continued, his voice heavy with grief: "Today, we have invited a Veteran—a man who fought for this country and dedicated his youth to it, yet was treated mercilessly by the government after the war ended."
"He is not a Politician; he is not a wealthy tycoon; he is not some Big Shot. He is just an ordinary citizen like you."
"He is, like you, a loyal patriot—someone who once believed in the future of this country but has witnessed firsthand how it betrayed us."
Rain paused for a moment, then slowly turned his head to look towards the back of the stage, his voice resonating powerfully.
"Let us welcome—Carter Black!"
The audience erupted into deafening applause and cheers!
Carter's name was called out amidst the fervent crowd, again and again, echoing under the night sky, reverberating at the heart of the city.
Sitting at the back of the stage, Carter felt his heart pounding fiercely against his chest, the shouts around him roaring like cannon fire on a battlefield. He knew that at this moment, whether he was ready or not, he had to step out.
Carter slowly stood up from his chair, the floor beneath him feeling heavier than before. He could sense countless eyes focusing on him, like beams of spotlight pushing him from the darkness into the center of the stage.
At this moment, there was nowhere to escape.
He took a deep breath and stepped forward, each stride steady yet burdened with invisible pressure.
The stage lights were bright and blinding. As he reached the center, Rain was already waiting for him.
Rain smiled and extended his hand, pulling him into a brief embrace.
This hug was short but carried a weighty significance—not just a welcome, but a silent transfer of responsibility—at that moment, this speech belonged to Carter.
As the embrace ended, Rain gently patted Carter's shoulder and leaned in slightly, whispering in his ear:
"It's all on you now, Mr. Carter, for a better future."
A better future?
Carter tightened his grip on the microphone, his gaze slowly sweeping over the crowd below.
He had never seen so many eyes fixed on him at once.
The crowd below was dense, nearly a thousand strong, with flags waving in the wind. The name Rain was printed on various banners, and some people excitedly raised their fists, waiting for him to speak.
This scene felt more unfamiliar to him than a battlefield.
So many people were eager to hear him speak? So many were waiting for his story?
It was so different from his past.
He had once thought of himself as just a Veteran, a nameless individual forgotten by society, someone who could only waste away his life in a bar after leaving the service. But now, he stood here, having become a symbol of sorts, a voice representing grassroots anger.
Nervous? What did that matter now?
He had come this far; it was too late for regrets.
Carter adjusted his breath, slowly lifted the microphone, his voice deep and slightly hoarse, yet filled with weight.
"My name is Carter Black."
The applause and chants erupted from the crowd, his name echoing like thunder across the square.
In that moment, he knew there was no turning back from this speech.
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