17. Necromancer Knock-Knock
A sharp knock echoed through the door—knock knock—and before any response could come from inside, it flew open with a bang.
"Kyaaak…!"
The count, Soboro Baekjak, had been deep in the throes of pleasure with his favorite sex slave. Startled by the sudden intrusion, the slave let out a shriek, shattering his mood. Irritated, he whipped around and bellowed,
"Damn it all! Who the hell dares…!"
"It's me, my lord count."
There stood Carol. She was a necromancer dispatched by the necromancer guild under contract to the count, currently disguised as a maid pretending to work in the household. She never set foot in the count's chambers unless summoned—what could possibly bring her here uninvited? Though his arousal had been ruined, curiosity flickered amid his annoyance.
"What brings you to seek me out first?"
"Why else? To check on that thing I asked for. That man. How'd you manage to separate him from Regina?"
"You burst in here for that? Tch… Out with you. I'm busy."
"Ha, that? This is huge, and you're still clueless? Annoying as fuck."
Carol's face twisted at the count's words. With a irritated snap of her fingers—crack—the sex slave sprawled before him clutched her throat, writhing in agony. She gagged, foam bubbling from her mouth as if suffocating.
Seeing his prized slave on the verge of death, the count yelled at Carol in panic.
"Guhk…!"
"Wh-what the hell! Eri…! Damn it…!"
"M-my lord… pl-please… save…"
"Carol! What the fuck are you doing?!"
But Carol didn't flinch at his outburst. She fixed him with cold, merciless eyes.
"What does it look like? Our dear count doesn't seem to grasp what's important right now."
"What…?"
"I call you 'my lord count' all nice and polite, and you think you can treat me like shit?"
Her icy voice sent a chill racing down his spine. In his rage, he'd momentarily forgotten: she was a necromancer. She could snap his worthless neck without breaking a sweat. Though his own talents were meager, the count's ambition and cunning were sharp. He scrambled off the bed, his pathetic cock flopping as he approached her with a fawning smile.
"N-no way! I've already done everything you asked. That prisoner bastard's locked up tight in the isolation cell in the tower! So…"
"Oh? Hmm… Isolation cell, eh? Not bad."
"R-right? So let Eri go now."
Satisfied with his groveling, Carol let out a smirk… then said,
"Nah."
Crunch.
"G-gurk…!"
With her refusal, the slave's neck snapped. She let out a final death rattle and went still. Her corpse exploded in a spray of flesh, guts, and blood, splattering across the bedroom.
The count, who moments ago had been entangled with her, bulged his eyes and screamed.
"Uwaaaagh…!"
"…Hmph."
Carol snorted dismissively at the gruesome scene she'd wrought. She brushed chunks of meat off the sofa casually and perched there, crossing her legs.
"Anyway, sit. We've got more to discuss. Oh, and put some clothes on. Why keep flashing that pathetic thing? It's pissing me off."
"R-right."
Fury boiled in the count at her audacity, but the slave's fresh fate flashed in his mind—that could be me. He nodded hastily, pulled on his pants, and sat on the sofa opposite her. Awkwardly gauging her mood as she propped her chin on her hand, bored, inspecting her nails…
"So… mind telling me why you've come?"
"What, in a rush?"
"…Not exactly urgent."
The count glanced around his room. Blood, flesh, and entrails everywhere. He desperately wanted it cleaned. Noticing, Carol pulled a nail file from her pocket and tended her nails as she spoke.
"Fine, straight to the point then."
"Much appreciated."
"Mm, okay… It's about that contract from before. Remember? Payment for the kidnapping assist."
"…The contract? Ah, right. What do you want?"
"The captain said to pass this on, so here goes."
"Captain, huh…"
The count pictured the man: leader of the necromancer guild, bloodless, ghostly pale.
"First off, we need test subjects worth experimenting on."
"Test subjects? Easy enough. Back alleys are full of trash."
"No, not that garbage. Carnivorous beastkin or other heterorace slaves from the market. A dwarf would be ideal."
"…Hah. You know how expensive those are?"
Durumil Kingdom nobles like Soboro Baekjak scorned non-humans as inferior vermin. Yet the heterorace slaves sold there fetched premium prices compared to plain humans—thanks to their unique abilities, superior physiques, and such. Dwarves, with their deft hands, were especially prized by luxury-loving nobles. Capturing them was hellishly difficult; they mostly lived in the Magic Kingdom, crafting magic stones for massive profits. The kingdom guarded them fiercely. So a dwarf on Durumil's black market? Astronomical prices.
As the count balked, Carol eyed the bed slyly before turning back to him with a smirk.
"Don't like it? Then it's a breach. You know that, right?"
Her sweet tone dripped with threat. He nodded reluctantly.
"…Damn it. Fine. I'll get you a dwarf slave somehow."
How the hell? If he had another powerhouse like Regina, it'd be simple—snatch one from a rival noble. A thought struck him amid his brooding.
That bastard who dared humiliate me.
Ian’s party women were Regina-level or stronger, he recalled.
"Hey, Carol. Mind if I ask why keep the man alive?"
"That guy? Oh, Ian or whatever?"
"Yeah. When we first nabbed him, I figured torture him lightly… too bad Regina fucked that up, but kill him anyway and raise him as an undead with your necromancy, right?"
That way, he could control Ian's women too. Recalling Bella and Cheong-ah's beauties from the negotiations, he couldn't fathom isolating the hassle of a live prisoner.
Carol stared at him like he was brain-dead.
"What bullshit is that? Does our genius count have lives to spare? Head chopped off and you just respawn? Are you a fucking retard?"
Stung by her venom, he gritted his teeth but pressed on.
"What're you getting at?"
"Think necromancy's magic? Regina fell for it 'cause she's a dumb beastkin. Normal strong folks spot undead instantly."
"Meaning…?"
"You think they'd let you live?"
"…Ahem."
The count coughed awkwardly, averting his eyes.
"For fuck's sake, use that scheming head for real shit, not pussy. Tch. Why the captain picked this idiot…"
"Ahem… Sorry."
"Whatever. Just get the test subjects. And this is my personal cut."
"Hm? What's this?"
After unloading insults, Carol stood, handing him a paper.
"Read it yourself. Need me to explain?"
"Got it."
Pure luxuries: high-end cosmetics, jewelry, the works.
"…Hah."
"I'm out. Good luck."
Carol sauntered off like nothing happened. Alone in the blood-soaked room, the count glared at the paper, hands trembling with rage.
"…So boring."
Up in the tower's isolation cell. Moonlight filtered through a window barely wide enough for a head, the sole illumination. I lay on the bed, shivering with boredom in the dim glow.
Days trapped here now. No one to talk to, just the errand boy bringing morning and evening meals. Deaf or ignoring me, he never acknowledged a word.
My one daily highlight: brief communications via the crystal orb with Bella, Cheong-ah, or Dina from their room. Even army life wasn't this dull… or maybe it was, like my last days as a private first class.
Exercise? Ha, a day or two's fine, but endless bodyweight reps left my muscles numb.
"Seriously so boring."
Muttering it again, I rolled around on the bed endlessly. How long till I get out? I miss my girls.
Eventually, my eyes drooped shut, and I drifted off.
……
……
……
Smack… slurp…
"…Nngh?"