Chapter 43: Non-mainstream Slaves
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 43: Non-mainstream Slaves
“What do you mean, there are no slaves?”
“Sorry, pal. The Church swept up almost every last one of them.”
I froze at the slave trader’s words.
“Sion! Hey, snap out of it!”
“Gah! O-oh no. This can’t be happening. No...”
This was already the third shop, and hearing the same story—that there were no slaves—made my head spin.
To think that the great Labyrinth City was out of slaves.
The reason, as expected, was the Cataclysm.
“How is this possible...?”
According to the slave trader, the number of slaves who perished in the Cataclysm was beyond imagination.
After all, the profession of 'porter' was almost entirely filled by slaves.
Porters who weren't slaves, like me, were so rare they were practically non-existent.
Those weak porter slaves had been caught up in the Cataclysm and died for various reasons.
Some might have been used as bait for an escape.
Others might have fallen into the depths and died of mana poisoning.
Regardless, the entire porter class had essentially evaporated.
Because of that, the slave market had been raided once right after the Cataclysm began.
I was a step too late.
Furthermore, it seemed a significant number of the slaves the Church managed internally had also been swept away.
To bolster their labor force, the Church had even sucked up the slaves that were usually released into the market.
The slave factory had effectively shut its doors.
What made it even worse was that body recovery below the Underground City wasn't going well, so the supply itself had plummeted.
It was a total mess.
“Even the body recovery teams were wiped out by the Cataclysm. It seems there’s no other way. You’ll either have to wait at least four more months or head to the specialist traders in the black market who deal in 'variants.' It’s one or the other.”
That was the slave trader’s advice.
It would take at least four months for the supply to even have a chance of recovering.
Demand had skyrocketed while supply was pathetically low.
In the midst of this, the Church had stopped releasing slaves and started using them for their own purposes, causing the few remaining slaves to be sold at triple the average price.
They said this situation would likely continue until the Labyrinth City stabilized.
“Was it yesterday? Apparently, there was even a slave hunt in the northern slums. They were all caught, of course.”
“A slave hunt?”
“Yeah. There was an attempt to supply slaves to the merchant groups through illegal routes—either by kidnapping people or resurrecting them.”
“What kind of crazy...”
Slave hunting had broken out just to fill the labor vacuum that had vanished in an instant.
Slave hunting.
It was the act of disguising vagrants or the homeless from the slums as people who died in the Labyrinth and then branding them as slaves.
Furthermore, it was a term that encompassed the heinous crime of killing adventurers encountered in the Labyrinth, resurrecting them through 'illegal means,' and then handing them over to slave traders.
It went without saying that if you were caught doing such a thing in the Labyrinth City, you wouldn't have a peaceful death.
The Goddess Church would step in, declare you a heretic, and put you to a miserable death after all sorts of torture.
In fact, there usually wasn't much profit in hunting and selling slaves this way.
As long as the Church held a tight grip on the slave trade, prices remained stable, so there was no need to take the risk of slave hunting.
Slave hunting was the definition of high risk, low reward.
One would normally stay far away from it to avoid being torn apart by an Inquisitor, but with slave prices surging, it seemed the practice—which had disappeared decades ago—had been resurrected.
“Even if the Church and the Guild are handling it...”
“It’ll definitely contribute to the city’s economic stagnation. The atmosphere in the streets is going to get restless.”
I saw a new possibility here.
Could this be a disturbance caused by outside forces?
Would the cowards of the underworld really pull something like this on their own?
There was no way the guys who usually just cleaned up corpses off the streets would recklessly join a slave hunt.
There was definitely something behind this.
Moreover, less than a month had passed since the Cataclysm, and the fact that these incidents were happening one after another made it feel like someone wanted to ruin the Labyrinth City.
I could feel the malice.
It felt like some foul-minded individuals were stretching out their reach.
“It’s unsettling, isn't it?”
“Yeah.”
I talked with Yuria as we walked through the shopping district.
Yuria also felt that there was some impure intent behind it all.
“Hmm. Sion, do you think maybe the Kingdom or the Empire is behind this?”
“Maybe. They’re always looking for a chance to take over the Labyrinth City.”
“Hmph. I don't know. Well, my mom will handle the difficult stuff.”
“True. The Guild Master will take care of it.”
“Let’s just hurry to the next shop.”
Yuria tugged at my hand.
It seemed she wanted to finish buying a slave quickly so she could hang out with me.
“But Yuria, do you even know where the black market slave trader we're going to is?”
“Uh. No. I don't! I've never been to the black market. You lead the way.”
Since Yuria had never been interested in slaves, there was no way she’d know the location of a shop that specialized in them.
If I hadn't suggested buying one, she probably would have gone her whole life without ever purchasing a slave.
Furthermore, she said she’d never even been to the black market.
Classic Yuria. She really had lived a wholesome life.
“Hey, Sion. This street looks a bit dangerous, doesn't it?”
“It’s probably because we’re near the black market.”
“Heh. You seem to know these streets pretty well. Did you hang out in the black market often?”
“Not often. Just once in a while. I’ve only been inside a few times myself.”
There is a black market in the western part of the Labyrinth City.
It’s a place that deals in things that are difficult to sell openly.
For example, tentacle dildos, or pet slimes for... personal use.
Or low-risk mimics for those with a pressure fetish.
They also deal in drugs, but from what I knew, the intensity was around the level of marijuana on Earth.
Drugs that rot the brain, like fentanyl, seemed to be non-mainstream even here.
“Look at you, wandering around dangerous places despite being so weak. Is it really okay for you to be roaming around red-light districts and black markets without a second thought?”
“Hey, Yuria. 'Weak' is a bit much. I’m still stronger than those vagrants over there.”
“Hey! You’d better be stronger than vagrants! You pathetic Easterner! Take this!”
“Agh! Hey! Yuria! That hurts! It hurts!!! Gack!!!”
Yuria squeezed my hand, interlacing her fingers with mine with crushing force.
“My fingers are gonna snap...!!!”
No, seriously, I thought my fingers were going to break.
Her physical strength was so absurdly high that it felt like my fingers were being folded in half.
“I yield! I yield!”
When I declared my surrender, Yuria grinned and let go.
My hand was throbbing.
“Hehe. Pathetic Sion. Don't get cocky. From now on, tell me before you go to dangerous places.”
“Ugh. Dammit.”
“What? Dammit? You want a taste of something spicy? Should we go a round of wrestling? It’s been a while since I gave you a windmill spin!”
Yuria immediately tried to lift me up.
I couldn't resist. If I stayed still, I was definitely going to get the windmill spin.
She’d done it to me a few times before.
I might actually throw up.
“Hey, hey! You’re getting way too bold!”
“Hehe. What can Sion do if I bully him? Just take it quietly.”
“Gah...!! You brat! Just you wait until we're in bed!”
“What? Bed?!”
Yuria flinched at the word 'bed.'
She gently set me back down on the ground and brushed off my shoulders.
“A-ahem... Bed... Yeah. Bed is good. Right, right.”
“What’s this? Why are you suddenly acting shy?”
“Well, I mean... it’s embarrassing. How can you talk about the bed out on the street like that! Hmph...! Come here! You’re the bad one!”
“Gack. Yu-Yuria...! I can’t breathe!”
Perhaps feeling bad for bullying me, Yuria hugged me tight.
Or maybe she was hugging me because she was embarrassed.
It certainly felt good to be in her arms, but this time, I was actually suffocating.
How should I put it?
Yuria was like a giant dog.
She was definitely cute and wonderful.
But she was stronger than me, so it was a bit overwhelming.
Above all, showing this much affection near the black market...
Normally, some lunatics might have tried to pick a fight, but.
“Eek...”
“Ahem...”
“Red hair... scary...”
Everyone avoided us.
In the Labyrinth City, it was best not to mess with anyone with red hair if you could help it.
The residents of the black market, in particular, tended to freak out when they saw red hair.
What on earth did the Guild Master do in her youth?
She must have killed an enormous number of people to maintain order in the city.
“This is the last proper slave trader.”
“The atmosphere is a bit different from the shops before.”
“It’s probably because they deal in non-mainstream slaves.”
Slaves had mainstream and non-mainstream categories.
While pretty female slaves sold well.
A male slave with no arms wouldn't sell well—that kind of vibe.
The fact that it was located right next to the black market meant they specialized in non-mainstream slaves.
I wondered what kind of slaves they handled.
Creeak.
“Cough... cough... Is that a customer...?”
As we entered the shop, a thick cloud of smoke greeted us.
Behind the counter, I saw a shopkeeper draped in a pitch-black blanket.
I couldn't see his face because of the blanket.
It seemed he had been smoking a water pipe all day through a small hole in the fabric.
“Ugh. You should really ventilate this place.”
Yuria grumbled as she followed me inside.
“My apologies. This shop rarely gets customers.”
At Yuria’s complaint, the shopkeeper opened a window with a stubby arm.
I’d noticed it while he was sitting, but he was very small.
'Is he a dwarf?'
The combination of the large blanket and his tiny frame made the slave trader look almost like a child.
Of course, his voice was incredibly gravelly, so there was no mistaking his age, but that was how he looked on the outside.
“So, what brings you all the way here? To buy a slave? A young couple like you must have quite peculiar tastes.”
It seemed he was under a major misunderstanding.
We hadn't come to satisfy some weird fetish; we were just here because the regular slaves were sold out.
“It’s not a peculiar taste; there just aren't any slaves left, so we ended up here.”
“Well, it’s true that stock has been low lately.”
The shopkeeper stood up from the counter and grabbed a ring of keys.
“Follow me. I’ll show you the ones I have left.”
Yuria and I followed the shopkeeper into the basement of the store.
We were heading down into a gloomy place, but I wasn't particularly worried.
Yuria was an adventurer on the verge of a Gold Badge, and I wasn't soft enough to be taken down by a slave trader.
“It’s dark.”
“Yeah. Do they keep slaves in a place like this? It feels so inhumane.”
Yuria threw the comment out, clearly intending for the slave trader to hear.
As she said, it definitely felt illegal.
Especially since it was a slave shop right next to the black market, it felt even more suspicious.
“Now, now, young lady. Most of the folks in our shop aren't exactly 'human' to begin with. They said they hated the sunlight, so I put them down here. I spent a lot of money preparing this basement based on the slaves' opinions, so don't go criticizing it for no reason. Do you have any idea how much it costs to expand a basement to this size? Just talking about it makes me angry.”
I could feel the genuine resentment in the trader’s voice.
He must have been offended that his heavily invested basement was being unfairly criticized.
What kind of slaves did he handle that hated the sunlight?
I didn't know much about this place either, as I’d only come here on a recommendation from the previous trader.
I’d seen the sign when visiting the black market, but I’d never thought about coming inside.
“Alright, here we are. Don't get too close to the bars. You might get body fluids on your clothes.”
“Whoa.”
The slave shop was a small one-story building.
But the basement was much larger than I expected.
A massive underground space.
It was filled with iron cages.
Furthermore, dwarves—also draped in black blankets like the shopkeeper—were managing the slaves.
Feeding them, washing them, cleaning the cages.
It was being managed much better than I had imagined.
“This is what’s left. Take a look around. Don't worry, they were all brought in through legal routes.”
People locked in cages...?
Some of them really weren't human.
It felt like being at a circus.
“They’re demi-human slaves.”
“Are those even sentient beings...?”
“They’ve been afflicted by the Labyrinth’s curse.”
“I see.”
A slime in the shape of a human waved its hand at us.
“Is it male or female?”
“Who knows? I suppose it depends on the owner’s preference.”
“...”
“Wow.”
The difference between the personal-use slimes sold in black market adult shops and that slime slave over there was that the latter was born human but became a slime due to a Labyrinth curse.
There are many types of Labyrinth curses, but the most common is the Curse of Transformation.
The Curse of Transformation was a type of penalty one might unfortunately receive while wandering the Deep Layers.
One could be cursed by stepping on a trap.
Or perhaps captured and modified by a monster in the Deep Layers.
“When someone is hit with the Curse of Transformation, they usually have two choices.”
Flee while carrying the curse.
Or assimilate into the Labyrinth and become a monster.
If you have money, a counter-curse is possible.
But if you don't, you have to live with the curse.
Living in a non-human form is a pretty terrible thing.
You never know when or where you might be mistaken for a monster and killed, and you're often ostracized.
“So, some people voluntarily become slaves. People don't usually mess with you if you're wearing a subjugation collar. It costs an astronomical amount of money to break the Curse of Transformation. It’s on a completely different level from resurrection spells.”
Since slaves were ultimately private property, people in the Labyrinth City generally didn't touch someone else's slave.
Mistreating a slave was an act of defiance against the slave's owner.
'Still, these people have such tragic fates.'
They became slaves to survive, but if they met the wrong master, they could be tortured to death.
In many ways, their destinies were pitiful.
To be afflicted by the Curse of Transformation meant they had seen the sights beyond the Underground City.
How sad must it be for them to fall to the status of a slave after such experiences?
“I don't know much about the Curse of Transformation... do they lose all their strength when they mutate?”
“It varies from person to person. Some actually get stronger because of the curse. Some lose their reason. There are all sorts of cases. The folks here are the ones whose luck was just 'moderately' bad. They made it back to the surface, but they don't have the strength to live on their own. And they didn't have the money to break the curse. Those are the kinds of people here.”
“I see.”
“But since they have experience in the Deep Layers, there’s definitely a demand for them.”
No matter how much their strength had waned, the experience of exploring the Deep Layers couldn't be ignored.
Knowledge of the Deep Layers wasn't something that could be bought with mere money.
“I imagine business is quite good then.”
“It is. Eccentric rich folks buy them to satisfy their urges, or adventurers at the Gold Badge rank or higher often seek them out as guides. Though the adventurer customers have dried up because of the Cataclysm. Well, there are a few slaves who haven't been cursed by the Labyrinth, so take a look.”
This place seemed to have its own share of complicated stories.
“Sion. Over there.”
“Hmm?”
While I was looking for a suitable slave for housework, Yuria discovered something.