4—Slavery [2.0]

Over the next few days, I kept on doing subjugation missions, avoiding my father and brothers so they wouldn’t involve me in one of their petty schemes again, and keeping up my training. I could actually feel myself growing stronger at a noticeable pace, and I could now wield my sword just a slight bit more comfortably.

'My talent is seriously monstrous.'

I also reached D Rank the day after my permanent E Rank card was given to me, which forced the guild to give me a D Rank temporary card and start making the permanent one, again, again. I laughed in my mind at the poor chap who kept having to make new cards for me without a break.

When I got to said Rank, I already had around 6 golds saved up, meaning just under 6.000$. I decided to visit a slave dealer and see if any slaves were cheap enough to buy with my current funds, which I seriously doubted, or at least see how much money I was missing.

As I reached the slave shop I had scoped out beforehand—one which only sold females—I was met with a big, luxurious building standing tall at three stories of height. Inside, there were several incredibly fat women attending and guiding the guests. They all wore iron... neckcuffs? Chokers? It was like a single thick, iron handcuff that went around their necks. Then it clicked.

'A slave collar, huh...this time the tropes didn’t disappoint me, it seems. Through I hoped they had. It's disgusting, to treat human beings like this. Like animals… like property.'

I knew that there were more discreet slave seals, that worked in the same manner, but it seemed like these girls were forced to wear this more bulky version to advertise their status. Sure, they were much easier and less painful to make than slave seals, which were really just magical tattoos, despite the cost of the material, but any self-respecting slave owner would choose the more convenient tattoo form.

I also doubted such a big lug of iron wouldn't put pressure on the slave's shoulders, which would hinder both labor slaves and those for... other means, unless it had some ridiculous weight nullification enchantment or something equally bonkers.

I checked the prices of the slaves sold on the ground floor, and was aghast to see that they were all way out of my price range. I considered going upstairs, but that was where the 'higher-quality' ones were, according to the staff (basically, the even fatter ones) and they would be even more expensive. Instead, I went down, where I guessed the cheaper slaves would be, and found myself standing inside a dark, damp basement. As I went deeper into it, ignoring the stupid recommendations of the worker following me, the slaves started getting less obnoxiously fat, finally reaching the realm of simply overweight.

The female worker asked me if I saw anything I liked, but I once again walked past her and trudged on, too pissed off to worry about politeness, even if the poor girl herself had likely done nothing wrong.

I was also quite unhappy for a different reason, which was that there didn't seem to be a single slave with an acceptable BMI, nor a cheap enough price. Perhaps I had gone wrong when choosing a relatively high-end slave shop. Though I had done it to spare myself from seeing exactly this kind of sight.

I reached the end of the shop and, in a foul-smelling and dark place, there were several slightly chubby slaves behind bars. And at the very back, there was a thin and frail girl, barely wearing more than a cloth, the skin exposed underneath it full of wounds and bruises

Her face was a mess, cut and battered, and the same could be said for the rest of her body, but it seemed like she would have been very beautiful without her injuries. She also had long, slightly pointed ears.

'An elf? No...half-elf?'

That was actually coming from the earthling part of me, since when I searched through Raynold’s memories, there was no record of neither elves nor beastmen, so I had no clue what the words for those were in this world’s language.

I went to the dealer and asked her what the price was, and with a bit of surprise and disgust showing on her face, she told me that it would be three and a half golds. That was enough for me. She was the cheapest by far, but also clearly the most beautiful by Earth's standards. I was a selfish prick, so I immediately chose her.

I paid without hesitation and went to pick her up, ignoring the dealer’s attempts at telling me that he needed to get the key and instead just separating two of the iron bars with brute force and pulling her up through the gap.

I took the girl into my arms. Looking at her face more closely, behind the all-covering grime and multiple injuries, she was extremely beautiful, giving off an aura of purity and innocence, with big eyes and petite features.

She was quite clearly frightened of me, especially since I was scrutinizing her so closely, but I didn't mind it as I gently laid her down onto the floor outside of her cell and closed the bars back up. I was pissed off and acting like an asshole, but even I had my limits.

Plus, I didn't want to get sued for destruction of private property or something.

When I finished doing that, I spread my overcoat on top of the frightened girl to cover her and warm her up, then picked her up again.

When the dealer finally managed to suppress her dissatisfaction, she tried to explain to me how bind the slave, but I simply grabbed her collar and tore it apart. It came with the package, so they couldn't charge me extra for it anyways, even if I wrecked it. It was as tough as it looked, but not enough to stop me.

As it crumbled apart, I threw the broken, twisted piece of metal in front of the woman and left, ignoring her rapidly darkening expression. I was seriously mad after seeing so many innocent people reduced to such a state.

I had already paid the golds, so I just went out into the street and used the darkness of the night to hide us and not draw undue attention as I carried her back home in my arms.