Prologue: The Slave Trader's End
Thirty years had passed since I reincarnated into this fantasy world.
Wealth and renown. As a slave trader among humans I had carved out a name for myself that was far from shabby—and if that name was infamous, well, infamy was still renown, wasn’t it?
So long as my purse stayed fat, I couldn’t have cared less what anyone said about me.
So why was I, a man who had never known blood or tears, suddenly reciting the last thirty years of my life line by line?
Because only moments ago, my glorious existence as a man had been utterly destroyed.
“Ah, Lady Elves… your mastery of magic truly reaches the heavens.”
The voice that left my lips was honeyed and coquettish.
When I lowered my chin, a vast valley of cleavage filled my entire field of vision.
In place of the powerful, muscular frame I had once possessed, I now wore a slender waist and soft, yielding skin—the lush, voluptuous body of a woman.
The elf priestess who had reduced me to this state curved her eyes in a languid, seductive smile.
“The lives you sold and drove to their deaths. From this day forward, with that body, you will give birth to as many as you have killed, and repay them.”
“What? That’s absurd—ah, aah?!”
Damn it.
The moment the elf priestess seized my breasts, nothing but sweet, ticklish moans spilled from my mouth.
Then she let her skirt slip slowly down her hips.
Thud.
From beneath the fabric a monstrous, massive cock sprang free, veins standing out in thick ridges as it reared its head high.
Wait—Lady… why the hell is a weapon like that hidden under your skirt?!
“W-wait a moment, Lady! At least give me time to prepare myself mentally—nghiiit!!”
My glorious life as a slave trader had been thoroughly opened… in an entirely different sense.
