Damn, I recarneted As A Judge in Fantasy World

The *Kiss of Death*—one of the more infamous plagues in this world—was feared by many. If you listed the symptoms, there were striking similarities to the flu.

It came with severe headaches, fever, chills, and muscle pain. The peculiar thing about this disease was that those who died from it had blackened lips, earning the name *Kiss of Death*.

'The bigger problem is that it is both highly contagious and fatal.'

Once it spread, calling it a disaster wouldn't be an exaggeration. Wasn't that the case the last time Peltron cursed the staff quarters?

Abel had been excited then, thinking it might be the *Kiss of Death*.

But this time, it wasn't a prank. The plague seemed to be real. Ominous reports were coming in from everywhere.

"It seems certain, Your Majesty," Deacon Miller Xavier spoke with a somber expression.

He had just finished his investigation, and all signs now pointed to an outbreak of plague throughout the city.

The Duchy of Carriers had to prepare for the impending disaster.

"What does the government say?" Abel asked.

"It's the same situation as us. It seems like they're only just realizing the gravity of the situation and are starting to prepare for it."

"Do you think they're taking it seriously?"

"Of course, Your Majesty."

There was no need to inform Chancellor Gilmore of the dangers of the plague; he would be aware by now. The focus needed to remain on defending the Duchy of Carriers and Midias.

"Oh, wait a minute," Abel added, his voice sharp. "The priests—surely they don't still have the upper hand?"

"Unfortunately, the situation hasn't changed much."

"No, why not? The plague has only just started to show signs of spreading."

"It seems that the contract made last time is still in effect."

"Ugh!"

Abel scoffed in frustration. The timing was perfect, almost too perfect.

Even as the real *Kiss of Death* began to spread, the clergy could not offer support due to an earlier incident involving a false plague. But that didn't mean there was no hope.

After all, Vargas, the sorcerer of Nermia, was staying in the Duchy of Carriers.

Even wizards could create a cure for the *Kiss of Death*.

'The problem is that it's incredibly expensive, and the materials are hard to find.'

This was no time to wait idly for a cure to be made. If too many people got infected, there would inevitably be a shortage of medicine.

So what was the solution?

The answer was simple: follow what had been done during the coronavirus outbreak.

"Butler Xavier," Abel called out.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Go to Vargas right away and ask him to list the ingredients needed for the cure."

"I'll do my best to secure as many as possible."

As expected, Butler Xavier quickly understood Abel's intention and ran out of the office.

Abel hurriedly headed to the textile factory. When thinking of an epidemic like this, one thing immediately came to mind: masks.

'We need to start by making masks,' Abel thought.

If the *Kiss of Death* was similar to the flu, it was likely transmitted in a similar way—through breathing, talking, sneezing, and coughing. Masks would surely help prevent the spread of the disease.

As Abel walked swiftly, something suddenly caught his attention. He stopped.

"Huh? Why did you stop?" Cordell McNeil, who had been walking alongside him, asked.

Abel stood still, looking around. "It's dirty," he muttered.

"Excuse me?"

"It's filthy," Abel clarified, frowning.

"I don't understand what you mean at all," Cordell said, confused. He shrugged and looked around, clearly puzzled. Abel pointed to various places as he spoke.

"Look around. Where in the world are the streets this clean?"

The Duchy of Carriers and Midias were very distinct in this regard. The neatly paved roads were their hallmark.

Flat stones were laid out, and drainage ditches were built into the streets. Carriages didn't kick up dust, and when it rained, the roads didn't become muddy.

The roads and sidewalks were separated, making everything more convenient.

'Butler Xavier did a remarkable job,' Abel thought.

He had only provided the plan and set the conditions; the employees had executed it. The result was better than expected.

However, the real problem wasn't just what was visible.

"Do you see that over there?" Abel asked.

"It's a pile of garbage. When it piles up, workers come and bury it."

"The Duchy of Carriers does that, but what about other places?"

Cordell frowned, thinking of the nearby capital. "It's terrible there. People throw trash everywhere, and the whole city stinks."

The air in the countryside, though heavy with the smell of manure, was still preferable to the filthy city.

"What about the Midias shopping district?" Abel asked.

"It's a bit dirty," Cordell admitted.

Wherever people gathered, waste accumulated. If thirty people had to be hired just to clean up, it said enough about the situation.

If sewage piled up, flies and rats would follow.

'The *Kiss of Death* is a problem now, but later, we could be looking at something like the Black Death,' Abel thought grimly.

Preventing infection was the top priority, and the Midias shopping district was likely a key route for spreading the plague. Thousands of people passed through it daily.

Cordell seemed to understand the gravity of the situation. "But how do you control it all?"

"Of course, you can't control everything. It's too late for that," Abel replied.

"Then what do we do? Surely you're not thinking of closing down the shopping district?"

"That's not an option."

Even if the plague spread, shutting down the district was out of the question.

It wasn't about losing tens of thousands of gold coins—that wasn't the issue.

The real concern was the people whose livelihoods depended on the shopping district. Midias had become the center of the Perias economy.

Abel smiled faintly. "I'll start a different business there."

"What?" Cordell stared, dumbfounded.

---

The Midias shopping district underwent a surprising transformation.

Where there had once been open access, there were now guards and iron fences at every entrance.

A merchant, arriving early to buy goods, asked curiously, "What's going on? Why won't they let me in?"

An employee, his face half-covered by a cloth mask and wearing a paper overcoat, answered calmly, "Starting today, the Duchy of Carriers and Midias are under strict control."

"Strict control? But I have a delivery deadline. If I'm late, I'll have to pay a penalty!"

The merchant's desperation didn't faze the employee, who remained resolute.

"You can't enter. Your attire is unsanitary."

The merchant was flabbergasted.

"Then what do I do? How can I get in?"

"Wear a mask like mine and put on an extra layer of clothing."

"Where am I supposed to get that right now?" the merchant complained.

The employee pointed to a corner where a large stand had been set up. Surprisingly, it was selling masks and overcoats. The merchant's eyes widened in disbelief.

"How can they be selling things like that at a time like this?"

"You can reuse the mask after washing it, but the overcoat must be worn for one day and then burned," the employee instructed before walking off.

The merchant, angered, glared at the stall. Was this all some form of profiteering?

Complaints soon spread among the merchants.

"How could the Duke of Carriers do something like this?"

"Why would he act like a third-rate conman?"

"His reputation will surely suffer."

But Abel's reputation, carefully built over time, prevented him from falling too far in public opinion. Most were concerned about his honor rather than feeling betrayed.

However, a few harsh voices could be heard.

"I knew it. His benevolence was just a facade."

"He's finally showing his true colors."

"Never trust nobles again!"

Yet there were others who remained objective.

"But the prices aren't that bad. A mask and coat together cost less than a few coppers."

"And the Duke has always had a reason for his actions. Maybe this is part of a bigger plan."

Regardless of the varying opinions, the masks and overcoats continued to sell. There was no other way to enter the Midias shopping district.

At first, everyone was full of complaints, but gradually they felt that something was strange.

"Didn't you say there was a plague going around? But why are there so few sick people?"

"The government is implementing quarantine measures, so isn't that why?"

"It used to spread in an instant. Has it ever been properly controlled until now?"

"From what I hear, there are very few people who get sick."

"Besides, I heard that all the officials who blockade the plague zone wear things like this."

The Kiss of Death would sweep through the capital every few years.

There is only one difference between then and now.

The only items sold at Carrier's Duchy were masks and overcoats.

People gradually began to realize why the plague was not spreading.

"They say that there is no one in the Duchy of Caryres and Midias who has suffered from the plague."

"I've met so many people, and I've never gotten caught!"

"Then, up until now, the forced sale of masks and overcoats has been… ."

"Was it all to prevent the plague?"

"What did I tell you, you people? I told you that He must have had some great intentions."

"Wait a minute, that guy over there. Didn't he just curse at His Highness the Duke of Carriers?"

"Yeah! I heard that too. It was really uncomfortable to say it so harshly, but this is good."

"Hey! Stand over there!"

"Huh? Running away? Chase them!"

Those who had been cursing the Duke of Carriers disappeared in an instant.

Like the friends in the forest who quickly run away when the truth is revealed.