One, two, three...
After two weeks, the amount I'd managed to scrape together was forty Silver Coins.
So this was what I'd finally accumulated — the little bit left after what I'd thrown at that shitty Hero.
Somehow, I was starting to feel empty inside.
Then again, with my attack power, there were only so many places I could go.
I hadn't taken any damage, but I'd gone into the forest once.
It was a Red Balloon, I think.
When I punched it bare-handed, I felt a shock like striking a tin can — a dull clang.
And even after nearly thirty minutes of punching, there was no sign of it breaking.
I'd had enough and left the forest.
In other words, I could only fight the kind of monsters found in this grassland.
Incidentally, in two weeks I'd only made it to Level 4.
I had no idea how high those shitty Heroes had gotten by now.
The Red Balloon was still latched onto my arm, gnawing away at it over and over.
Was it a week ago that I went to the forest?
I'll try one punch.
Clang!
"Hah..."
Not enough attack power.
Not enough, so I couldn't defeat monsters.
Couldn't defeat them, so I couldn't earn experience.
Couldn't earn experience, so I didn't have enough attack power.
A miserable loop.
I was walking through the back alley that led from the tavern to the grassland.
That day was about to be a little different from the ones before.
"You look like you're in a bit of a pickle."
"Hm?"
A strange fellow in a top hat and tailcoat called out to me in the back alley.
Somehow, this bizarre gentleman was morbidly obese and wearing sunglasses.
That kind of oddball.
He stuck out like a sore thumb, completely out of place in this medieval world.
Best to just ignore him.
"You're short on manpower."
Right on the mark.
He'd hit the nail right on the head.
"You can't beat monsters."
And he kept going with words that rubbed me the wrong way.
"For someone like you, I have a proposition."
"If it's about introducing companions, I've already got that covered."
I had absolutely no means — or desire — to support a bunch of bottom-feeders who only cared about money.
"Companions? Oh no, no — what I'm offering is nothing so inconvenient."
"Oh... then what is it?"
The man sidled up close and spoke in a low voice.
"Piqued your interest?"
"Get away from me, you're creeping me out."
"Hehehe, you've got the kind of eyes I like. Very well — I'll tell you!"
With a dramatic flourish, waving his cane about, the strange gentleman boomed:
"Slaves!"
"Slaves?"
"Yes, slaves."
A slave was defined as a person who, despite being human, was treated as an object of ownership — that is, property. They were denied the honor, rights, and freedom of being human and were handled as another person's possession. They were subject to their owner's absolute control, forced into labor, and could be transferred or sold.
I was pretty sure I'd read something like that on Wikipedia once.
So this world had slave trading too.
"What makes you think I want a slave?"
"Someone who won't betray you."
I flinched.
"You can place a severe Curse on a slave. If they defy their master, it costs them their very life — a truly powerful Curse."
"Oh..."
That was a rather interesting pitch.
Disobey and die. Someone who wouldn't foolishly try to exploit me — that was exactly what I needed.
I was lacking in attack power. That's why I wanted companions. But companions could betray you, so I couldn't afford to invest in them.
So I couldn't increase my party.
But a slave couldn't betray me. Betrayal meant death.
"So, what do you think?"
"I'm listening."
The slave merchant grinned and led the way.
We walked through back alleys for a while.
This country's underbelly ran pretty deep.
Even though it was daytime, we moved along roads that sunlight never touched, until a shack resembling a circus tent appeared at the corner of an alley.
"This way, Sir Hero."
"Yeah, yeah."
The slave merchant walked along with an eerie gait. How to describe it? It was like skipping, except each bound covered an unnervingly long distance.
And sure enough, the slave merchant led me inside the circus tent.
"Alright, let me ask just in case — but if you try to scam me..."
"You'd probably use that famous Balloon release of yours, wouldn't you? I imagine you're planning to slip away in the confusion."
Huh... so that's what they were calling it.
Well, it was a convenient tool for punishing fools, so I guessed it had gotten a reputation.
"I did have a customer who wanted to enslave a Hero, and I approached you as one possibility, but I've reconsidered. Yes."
"Hm?"
"You have the qualities of a good customer. In both the good and bad sense of the word."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Well now, what could it mean?"
What an enigma this slave merchant was. What did he expect from me?
Clank!
With that sound, a heavily fortified door inside the circus tent swung open.
"Oh..."
The interior was dimly lit, with a faint stench of decay hanging in the air.
A strong animal musk was also present, and it was immediately clear the conditions were less than ideal.
Row upon row of cages had been set up, and within them, humanoid shadows stirred.
"Now then, here are the slaves I'd recommend from our shop."
I moved a little closer to the cage the merchant indicated and peered inside.
"Grrrrrr... GAAAH!"
"That's not human."
Inside the cage was a creature that looked roughly human, with fur seemingly grafted onto its skin, sprouting sharp fangs and claws — to put it simply, a werewolf was snarling and thrashing about.
"It's a Beast-man. Technically, they fall under the classification of people."
"Beast-man, huh."
A race that showed up fairly often in fantasy.
Mainly as enemies, though.
"I'm a Hero, and I'm pretty unfamiliar with this world. Could you give me the details?"
Unlike those other shitty Heroes, I wasn't knowledgeable about this world. I didn't even know the basics.
Looking around town, I had occasionally spotted people with dog ears and others with cat ears.
Seeing them, I'd think, "Ah, fantasy," but they were few in number.
"The
"I see..."
In the
"So what exactly are these Demi-humans and Beast-men?"
"Demi-humans is the general term for races that resemble humans but possess distinctly non-human features. Beast-men is what you call Demi-humans whose animal traits are especially pronounced. Yes."
"So they're the same category, essentially."
"Yes. And because Demi-humans are perceived as being close to monsters, life is difficult for them in this country — hence, they're treated as Slaves."
Every world had its dark underbelly. And in places where the perception existed that someone wasn't fully human, there was no creature more conveniently exploitable.
"And furthermore, with Slaves..."
The slave merchant snapped his fingers with a sharp click. A Magic Circle materialized on his arm, and the Magic Circle etched into the werewolf's chest lit up.
"GAAAARGH! It hurts! It hurts!"
The werewolf clutched its chest, began writhing in agony, and then rolled around in torment.
When the slave merchant snapped his fingers once more, the glowing Magic Circle on the werewolf's chest dimmed and faded.
"Like so, I can deliver punishment with a single command."
"Quite the convenient magic."
I murmured, watching the werewolf collapse onto its back.
"Can I use it too?"
"Yes. You don't even need to snap your fingers — you can set various conditions. It's also possible to integrate it into your Status Magic."
"Hmm..."
That was a pretty handy system.
"Of course, there is a ritual required to imprint your biometric information onto the crest engraved on the Slave."
"So that commands from different owners don't get mixed up?"
"I couldn't ask for a more perceptive customer."
The slave merchant let out a sinister hee-hee smile.
What a weird guy.
"Well, fine. How much for this one?"
"Well, it is a combat-capable classification, after all..."
My reputation in matters of coin must have preceded me. He'd know better than to try and fleece me.
"Fifteen Gold Coins — how does that sound?"
"I'm not sure about market rates, but... you're already cutting me a pretty good deal, aren't you?"
One Gold Coin was worth a hundred Silver Coins.
There was a reason the king had given them out so freely. Gold Coins were inconvenient to use precisely because of their high denomination.
Equipment sold in the Castle Town was basically cheaper to buy with Silver Coins — it was easier for the shops that way.
"Of course."
...
Even under my unblinking stare, the slave merchant maintained his grin.
"You knew I couldn't afford it, so you showed me the most expensive one first, didn't you?"
"Yes. You're going to be a valued customer someday — if I don't help sharpen your eye, you might end up being swindled by some inferior slave merchant."
Suspicious no matter how you looked at it.
"For reference, this Slave's status is as follows."
The slave merchant showed me a small crystal. An icon lit up and text materialized.
Combat Slave Lv 75 — Race: Werewolf
Various acquired skills and abilities were listed as well.
75... nearly twenty times my Level.
I couldn't imagine how much easier fighting would be with someone like this under my command.
He was probably stronger than the other Heroes at this point.
Whether it was worth the price? That was a borderline call.
Besides, his health already looked poor, and even if he followed orders, he seemed like the type whose daily behavior would cause problems.
This price probably factored in a discount for the hassle.
"This Slave used to fight in the Colosseum, you see. He injured his legs and arms and was marked for disposal — I simply picked him up."
"Hmm..."
So that made him defective goods.
His Level didn't match what you'd expect.
"Now then, you've seen our finest piece. What kind of Slave are you looking for?"
"Something cheap that isn't broken yet."
"That would rule out combat types and manual laborers, then? The rumors say..."
"I haven't done any of that!"
"Hehehe, it's all the same to me. So, what kind of Slave do you prefer?"
"Something oddly domestic would be a hassle too. And a sex slave is completely out of the question."
"Hmm... You're not what the rumors suggested, Sir Hero."
"...I haven't done it."
Ah, I could say anything. But I really hadn't.
All I needed right now was someone who could fight in my place.
As long as they were useful, anything would do.
"Any preference on gender?"
"Male would be ideal, but I'm not picky."
"Hmm..."
The slave merchant scratched his cheek.
"They're a bit lacking even as a pet, but would that be acceptable?"
"Why would I care about appearance?"
"Their Level is low, too."
"If I want combat power, I'll raise them myself."
"...Interesting answer. For someone who doesn't trust people."
"Slaves aren't people, right? Raising one is no different from raising a shield. As long as they can't betray me, I'll raise them."
"Well, you've got me there."
The slave merchant chuckled, stifling a laugh.
"Right this way, then."
And so I was made to walk through the shack, past row after row of cages, for several minutes.
After passing through a noisy section full of shrieks and wails, it became even more clamorous — this time with crying.
When I glanced over, I saw dirty children and elderly Demi-humans in cages, their faces grim.
After walking a bit further, the slave merchant came to a stop.
"These are the lowest-tier Slaves we can offer you, Sir Hero."
He pointed at three cages.
The first held a man with rabbit-like ears and one arm bent at an unnatural angle. He looked to be around twenty.
The second held a girl of about ten — scrawny to the bone, shivering and coughing with terrified eyes, her ears rounded like a dog's but oddly thick, and with a peculiarly bushy tail.
The third held a Lizard-man who radiated an unsettling killing intent, his eyes wild. Though somehow, for a Lizard-man, he seemed closer to human.
"From the left: a Rabbit species with a hereditary illness, a Raccoon species suffering from panic episodes and disease, and a mixed-blood Lizard-man."
So the third one was a hybrid.
"They're all problematic, aren't they."
"Within the budget you've set, this is as low as it goes. Any cheaper than this, and honestly..."
The slave merchant glanced toward the back. I followed his gaze.
Even from a distance, the stench of death was unmistakable.
The smell you catch faintly at a funeral — except here, it was concentrated. Something lurked beyond.
A faint whiff of decay was drifting over too.
Looking at that place too long would probably make your mind sick.
"By the way, what are the prices?"
"From left to right: twenty-five Silver Coins, thirty Silver Coins, and forty Silver Coins."
"And their Levels?"
"5, 1, and 8, respectively."
For immediate combat value, the hybrid Lizard-man was the pick. For price, the one with the hereditary illness. They were all scrawny overall.
The man called Rabbit species couldn't use one arm, but his other limbs seemed fine.
His expression was gloomy, but... all the Slaves here looked the same.
"Come to think of it, all the Slaves here are pretty quiet."
"Because they're punished if they make noise."
"I see."
Were they well-trained? Or was he simply not showing me the ones that couldn't be?
The Lizard-man could probably be useful in a fight, but the others were no good.
"Why is the middle one so cheap?"
She was emaciated and frightened — a young girl, from the looks of it. Her face was... not exactly pretty.
Raccoon species — literally, like a raccoon or a tanuki.
Even so, a girl who looked close to human would probably appeal to a different set of buyers.
"Because the Raccoon species has somewhat unfortunate appearances. If this were a Fox species, they'd fetch a high price despite the problems."
"Is that so..."
So she was discounted because she was subpar even as a pet.
"Her face doesn't meet standards either, and she has panic episodes at night. So no one's willing to take her."
"This is the best of the clearance stock?"
"My, my — you really know where to poke."
Compared to the other Slaves, she wasn't suited for labor.
Her Level was the lowest, to boot.
Which one should I pick?
This was a tough decision.
My eyes met with those of the Raccoon species slave.
And then I noticed a feeling welling up from the depths of my heart.
That's right. This one was a girl — the same sex as that shitty woman.
Looking at those frightened eyes, something stirred in my desire to dominate.
Maybe it would feel good to imagine making that woman my slave...
If she died, at least that would ease some of my grudge.
"Then I'll take the one in the middle."
"That sinister grin — I must say, I'm quite satisfied."
The slave merchant produced a key, freed the Raccoon species girl from her cage, and fastened a collar around her neck.
"Hyii!?"
Watching the terrified girl, I felt a growing sense of satisfaction.
Imagining that woman making this kind of face gave me a twisted sort of pleasure.
Then, dragging the chained girl behind me, I retraced our steps. In a slightly more open area of the tent, the slave merchant called someone over and had them bring an ink pot.
He transferred the ink to a small dish and held it out to me.
"Now then, Sir Hero — a small amount of blood, if you please. That will complete the Slave registration, and this Slave will be yours."
"Right."
I pressed a utility knife lightly against my finger.
My Shield reacted when someone pointed a weapon at me, but apparently it did nothing against my own attacks.
And when it wasn't being used in combat, the Shield didn't react.
I waited for blood to well up, then let a few drops fall into the dish of ink.
The slave merchant absorbed the ink with a brush, had his subordinates strip the cloth from the girl, and smeared the ink over the Slave Crest carved into her chest.
"Kyaa— AAAAARGH...!"
The Slave Crest blazed with light, and an icon lit up in my Status Magic.
You have acquired a Slave.
Displaying conditions set for servitude.
All manner of conditions scrolled past.
I skimmed through them and set the conditions so that if she attacked me in my sleep or refused my orders, she would be wracked with intense pain.
While I was at it, I noticed a Companion Settings icon outside the Slave section and checked it.
Slave A — her name was unknown, so that's what it said.
Apparently I could change the conditions at will, so I'd set the details later.
"And now this Slave belongs to you, Sir Hero. Shall we settle the payment?"
"Right."
I handed the slave merchant thirty-one Silver Coins.
"That's one Silver Coin too many."
"Consider it a processing fee. You were planning to squeeze me for it, weren't you?"
"...You saw right through me."
By paying first, I made it hard for him to complain.
If he still tried to bleed me dry after that... well, we'd see.
"Well, fine. At least we were able to clear some defective stock."
"By the way, how much was that registration process?"
"Hehe, that was included in the price."
"We'll see about that."
The slave merchant laughed, so I laughed right back.
"You really are a tough one to read. This is getting exciting."
"Say what you want."
"Well then, I look forward to your next visit."
"Yeah."
I ordered the stumbling Slave to follow me and left the circus tent.
With a dark expression, the Slave trailed behind me.
"Now then, let me ask your name."
"...*cough*..."
She turned her face away, refusing to answer.
But that was a foolish move.
When a Slave refused their master's command, the Slave Crest's effect would activate.
"Guh... guu..."
The Slave clutched her chest and began to suffer.
"See? Now tell me your name."
"Ra...
"I see. Raphtalia, then. Let's go."
Having said her name, Raphtalia was relieved of the pain and steadied her breathing.
And so I took Raphtalia's hand and made my way through the back alleys.
"..."
Raphtalia walked along, gazing up at me from below as our hands were joined...