Cats are absent from public life. Though the cast visits amusement parks, the beach, the mall, and a variety of other places, other cats are notably missing from these spaces. Where are they? Do they ever stop in to have some tea and cakes at La Soleil like the humans do? Are they even allowed to?
- Chiaki Hiraki, The Worker’s Nekopara: A call to arms against nekonomic exploitation (2020)
Brown and the catfolk weren’t planning on letting things ‘blow over’ like some hoped. It was the right time to press the bitter grapes of wrath to let flow the sweet wine of change.
The “Tamaside Incident” had brought nationwide and limited international attention, bringing with it the acknowledgement of Brown’s existence. Most thought that he was an insane man that pretended to be a long-dead 19th century American. Actually, to be more accurate, nobody believed that Brown was the Brown. Regardless of doubts about his authenticity, Brown now had a chance to contact other groups in the country who were sympathetic to the cause of catfolk liberation.
Now came to, in Brown’s own words, “quickly, quietly and efficiently” uniting together to enact a solid plan for action before the government could begin organizing a proper response to the rising unrest in Japan. What was needed was something that’d affect the economy, nekonomy, and society like a train at full speed affecting someone’s velocity after it crashes into them. After a week of restless nights, shouting matches and passionate speeches, what was dubbed “The Great Mayday of Maydays” (working title that became permanent when no one had a better idea) was conceived.
Today was to be mayday.
Brown was just one of the many people taking part in this plan. This was not a one-man job; it was a tsunami made of the lumpen flooding the streets. He was walking towards their destination, joined by a small group comprised of Maya, Misha and Miss Watanabe. The streets of Tokyo were quieter than usual as many businesses had been forced to close down for the day due to workers refusing to come to work. Police in civilian getup blended among the streets, trying to find something that they could arrest this ‘uppity’ crowd for.
Brown wasn’t planning on something that could get them arrested, though he feared that the supposed enforcers of the law would just ignore the law.
The group reached their target without much incident, other than a few insults and attempts (emphasis on attempts, as nobody really dared when they saw Brown ready for combat) at physical assault thrown their way. Their target was a café, with a sign in front of it that stated (like many other businesses in the country) “No cats without bells allowed!” They entered the establishment and took a seat.
A catgirl waitress came to greet them at their table. Miss Watanabe recognized her from the last time she had come here. “Welcome to La Lune, what’d you like to…” she paused when she noticed Maya and Misha “…Sir, we do not allow unbelled cats at our establishment. Could you please-”
The Brown sisters were ready for such a situation to arise. “Sis, we’re legit here. We’ve got the dosh, why wouldn’t you want to serve us?”
“Money… uhm… you, need. We, er… have. Ha… have… have money. Serve, serve no problem? Please?”
The waitress couldn’t bear to throw the sisters out, nor did she herself particularly care about unbelled cats. I heard the strays are uncivilized, but these two seem to be one, uhm, two of the good ones… “Ahem… What’d you like to order?”
“A medium-size raspberry-syrup white chocolate frappuccino with no caffeine.”
“Whatever Miss Watanabe is having. But, like, larger.”
“Same.”
Brown didn’t like coffee himself, which was what inspired the Brown family’s plan for contribution on Mayday. “What’d you like to order, young lady?”
The catgirl waitress was used to dirty old men attempting untoward advances towards her (though, admittedly, it was unusual for dirty old men to try such untoward advances while having others sitting with them). She assumed a sterile smile, one gained by experience in years of customer service, as she thought of the most expensive thing she could order. “I really like an extra-large La Lune Specialty Javaccino with extra milk, extra cream, extra…” she continued speaking like this for about a minute “…and with extra dip.”
Brown laughed after she finished her order. “You have some expensive tastes, young lady. I’ll have an extra-large La Lune Specialty Javaccino with extra milk, extra cream, extra…” he continued speaking like this for about a minute “…and with extra dip.”
“R-Right…”
After a short ten minutes, everyone’s drinks were set on a table. “Here you go sir your… drink.”
“I actually find coffee to be quite disagreeable, young lady.” replied Brown. Then why did you order it in the first place, thought the waitress.
“She can sit down with us, Mister Brown. Waitresses deserve a break too.” said Miss Watanabe as she slid Brown’s monstrous order towards the waitress. “Though, I do hear that the catfolk aren’t given their due breaks. What’s your name, miss?”
The waitress looked behind her. The manager wasn’t looking and she didn’t have any orders to serve. She sat down with her customers. “I’m Robusta, and…” She didn’t usually have a chance to complain about her employment to someone that was listening, so she ranted about her problems for ten minutes.
“Now for some breaking news regarding what has been dubbed ‘The Great Mayday of Maydays’. The stock markets came to a grinding halt today as thousands of catboys working for the Tokyo Stock Exchange and Osaka Exchange refused to show up to work. One of the hardest hit was the Tamana Corporation, whose employees have gone on strike for an indefinite duration until their demands are met. In Anan, Tokushima, cats have organized a gathering where they have burnt their bells, calling for an end to the Bell System.” The TV showed live video footage of cheerful catfolk standing around a large pile of burning bells.
Robusta stopped speaking while she watched the news report on the café’s TV. The waitress watched the unbelled, free Brown sisters, who were cheerfully drinking their overpriced coffee. Her hands instinctively trailed near her collar, as if she wanted to tear the damned thing away.
“In our studio is Minatsuki Jiu, self-made entrepreneur and licensed catgirl expert. Sorry for calling you on such short notice, Miss Minatsuki.”
The lady on the TV seemed to be a bit more distraught than usual. “No problem, I am proud to be of service in such times of crisis.”
“Well, Miss Minatsuki. You’ll have to excuse me for my rudeness; I have reported what I wanted to report for today.” The news reporter stood up as Miss Minatsuki watched in shock. “I have a Mayday to attend to. Your trite speeches can be given without me.” He left the room as several of the background crew could be heard shouting for him to stop. The cameras were still showing the abandoned studio, empty except for one lonely Minatsuki.
“Young lady, use these.” said Brown when he handed Robusta a pair of cheap scissors. Robusta hesitated for a second, the scissor shaking in her hands. She had a stable-ish job nor was she out in the streets like the strays. Yet, she couldn’t go anywhere without her “owners’” permission, she couldn’t drink something in a café like this, she wasn’t free!
Snip.
Her collar snapped in twain. Robusta stood up, holding her broken collar and bell in view of everyone in the café. One of her coworkers shouted at her when they noticed the triumphant Robusta “Ro-Robusta? What the hell are you doing?!”
“I have a Mayday to attend to!”
She left the café with the Brown family. Before long, her comrades in the café had joined Robusta, trailing her from behind as they carried their own broken collars.
Countless people had gathered in front of the National Diet Building, chanting for freedom and equality for the catfolk. The Riot Police Unit had also assembled in front of the building, standing with their shields up. Standing near the riot police were a small crowd of pro-government counter-protestors. The middle was reserved for the trucks of the fire department, who were the only neutral party, only doing their jobs of making sure that the city didn’t burn down by the end of the day.
A great fire raged, within the hearts of the people and also literally in front of the Diet building. Tens of thousands of bells were burning in a pile, flanked by even more people who refused to leave until there would be no more bells in Japan.
“It seems we’ve arrived at a good time.” muttered Brown as his group (without Maya and Misha, who had been sent back to the patisserie since protests weren’t exactly safe places for the young’uns) finally made it to the protest grounds. Like a snowball rolling down a hill, what had begun by Robusta cutting off one collar had grown into thousands following her example on her march.
Seeing Brown’s group arrive had only greatened the police’s anxiety. There weren’t many ways that they could suppress the situation without causing too much trouble for the government.
Yet, what’d be worse than bad PR for the ones in government would be the freeing of the catfolk. The bottom line of many companies depended on cheap, cat-sourced labor. Strikes would eventually die off; catgirl liberation would permanently eat into profits. Therefore, after emergency deliberation, the riot police received explicit permission to do ‘what they must’ to ‘quell the significant unrest threatening the capital’.
An announcement from the megaphone of an armored vehicle rang throughout the city. “This is your last warning! Leave the premises of the Diet building immediately, or else we’ll be forced to take special precautions to protect the wellbeing of the members of the Diet!”
Brown had equipped himself with a megaphone in preparation of this event. “Sir, we’re only taking precautions to protect the wellbeing of the members of the catfolk! We have you outnumbered by God-knows-how-much by one, accept the will of your people or prepare to be punished for your sins against your own people!”
The protestors weren’t budging, for now. It was time to do ‘what they must’. The riot police and the counter-protestors began marching forward, intending to clear the protestors from the driveway in front of the Diet. Tear gas was launched and water cannons began spraying at protestors to make their march easier.
Chaos now reigned in the crowd. Many were temporarily blinded by the gas; some were writhing on the ground in pain. The protestors became disoriented while the riot police marched mostly unimpeded thanks to having proper protective gear. Some protestors swung wildly in an attempt to spray-and-pray themselves to victory. This obviously didn’t work. The riot police swiftly gained ground, taking the area were the ashes of the bells lay.
The protestors hadn’t dissolved yet, though. Those who were able to get used to the effects of tear gas were slowly able to reorganize and attempt a push back. The riot police were highly outnumbered by the protestors who slowly made them retreat back from the pile of ashes. It would seem the riot police would lose this battle of attrition if the situation continued like so.
The situation wouldn’t continue ‘like so’. Gunshots rang out. Some of panicked members of riot police had fired their pistols. Some warning shots flew into the air, some shots flew directly into the crowd. Their comrades joined them in their panic as other shots followed.
The protestor crowd fled, fearing for their lives. Even the most fervent of men wavered in the face of certain death. Many of their escape paths were blocked by other members of police, further clashes happened as the panicked crowd fled for their lives.
It was a tactical victory packaged with strategic defeat for the government. The National Diet Building was secure; its driveway was now painted red with the blood of forty-two victims.
Maya and Misha were doing their best to read the front page of today’s newspaper. “Er… Tō. Kyō. neko. Horse-again-bug-movement?” Misha was occupied with the reading while Maya was skimming through a dictionary in an attempt to find the letters her sister couldn’t read.
“Lemme see… Those two letters together mean ‘riot’. Already knew that it was a riot, what else? There are some English numbers under the pictures, what’s next to the 7 and 35?”
“Seven, dead-ed. Thirty-five wound… uhm… ed.”
“Seven people died?” Maya paused as she realized what this implied “…That geezer was with them, wasn’t he?” It’s been an entire day; gramps should’ve come here by now. Miss Watanabe is gone too…
The patisserie was unoccupied, except for the Brown sisters. There was nobody to hear them as a rapid river of tears flowed for old John Brown.
In this chapter of the John Brown Isekai:
(Original post by u/Datuser14)
Some non-historical context: I don't really have anything in mind that I'd like to add for this section. I hope you are enjoying reading Total Nekonomic Collapse!
Great John Brown, may God bless you in heaven, you done a great work.
I am enjoying it 100%
Thank you for reading and enjoying it then!