Slave Merchant: Derick Walker — 8

My heart was pounding. As a former citizen of the Republic of Korea — a just nation governed by the rule of law — I had never legally purchased a human being. I had never committed murder. I had never been with a prostitute. And yet owning a slave set my chest hammering far harder than either of those ever could have.

Human trafficking might be illegal in the real world, but in this one it was an everyday fact of life. There was no reason to remain chained to the rules of Earth.

The Hillis Slave Market had packaged the woman I'd purchased with immaculate care. Packaged really was the word. They had bathed her in fragrant oils, patted her dry, and dusted her face with a fine white powder — not the blatant paint of a brothel whore, but a light touch of makeup that brought out a modest, appealing beauty.

Around her throat sat the leather collar I had chosen myself, a long leash trailing from it. Piercings had been available as an optional extra — handsome little accessories for her nipples and her pussy — but nothing had caught my fancy, so I put that off. They say that after all the tuning in the world, you come back to the original. For the time being, I intended to savor her exactly as she was.

I received a slave certificate and a virginity certificate, one of each. A virginity certificate. The Hillis Slave Market… they really knew their business.

The original game never went into this kind of granular detail. The setting book, though, hinted at it in passing: the Hillis Slave Market was a shadowy outfit that catered to the darker appetites of people with money and power.

"We've washed and packaged the merchandise for you."

He wasn't wrong. The slave, neatly wrapped, looked like a work of art. She had been beautiful to begin with, but the market had styled her so precisely that every last one of her charms was on full display.

"Buhihit! Good work."

The knowledge that this gorgeous woman's virginity — front and back — now belonged to me was a profound delight. I cheered inwardly and took my time looking her over, inch by inch.

Surprisingly, her face barely changed. She seemed to have already accepted her situation. In the original she had been a character with about as little expression as Jean himself, so it wasn't strange. If anything, this was the natural reaction.

"We also offer a tattoo service, if that would interest you? It's typically just the thing for virgins like this one. Excellent for thoroughly killing any rebellious streak — and it cuts off any risk of escape, should the thought ever cross her mind."

The merchant rubbed his palms together as he spoke. The idea of drawing obscene pictures across that pristine white skin, like pressing footprints into a field of fresh snow, was appealing. But leaving marks like that right now would be a waste. Better to have them done later, together with the piercings.

"Forget it. I'll be on my way."

"Understood. Thank you very much."

As a last touch, the man produced a thin robe. It was red, long enough to cover her from head to toe, and so soft it had to be silk — an outer garment for slaves. A slave was not permitted to wear anything finer than her master, but this felt less like clothing than like luxury wrapping paper. She could hardly walk outside naked, after all.

Not that it was impossible. Masters with that particular hobby were said to enjoy outdoor exhibitionism quite a lot. I was interested myself, but there was no need to rush; I could always indulge that later. For ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠now, building this slave's affection mattered more than slaking my own perverted appetites.

I draped the robe over her and led her out of the market. The leash at her throat sat in my hand, so anyone looking could tell at a glance that she was my slave.

Surprisingly, almost no one paid us any mind. Walking a female slave through the inner walls apparently wasn't unusual. I brought her back to the luxury lodgings where I was staying.

"What's your name?"

I asked the moment we entered the room, before I'd even sat down. Her name was written on both the slave certificate and the virginity certificate. I asked anyway. She answered without a flicker of hesitation.

"Kate."

A beautiful, sweet voice, identical to the game's voice actress. I let myself admire it for a brief moment, then shook my head and sat. She drifted to my side as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

She didn't take the chair in front of me — no order had been given. I didn't bother telling her to sit. I gave her a different command instead.

"Strip."

Kate shed the robe without a shred of hesitation. It was like watching a virgin's striptease. Her moderately full breasts and smooth nipples caught the warm sunlight spilling through the window and gleamed. There was no other word for it: she was the color of milk. I admired her body while I looked over the slave certificate and the virginity certificate once more.

The slave certificate recorded her name and photograph, along with her height, weight, bust size, the measurements of her sex, and her price. The virginity certificate was written in an exceedingly solemn hand.

I reached out and touched her nipple. The pebbled texture felt exquisite. She pressed her lips together at the feel of my fingers. Was she holding back a moan? Or swallowing her rage? Without mind-reading, I had no way to know.

"Kate… Kate, huh."

Kate, by our world's standards, was about as common a name as Jane Smith. Wait. Was Jane Smith even that common? I'd never actually met anyone with that name…

Regardless, I couldn't help but laugh at how sloppy her choice of alias was. If she was going to disguise herself, she might as well have picked a name with a little more presence.

"Not a particularly good name, Kate. Mind if I call you something else?"

"I am Master's property. As Master wishes."

She had been well trained; the polite register came out smoothly. As a virgin she wouldn't have received a complete education in the bedroom, but she would have been drilled relentlessly in how to please her master. The Hillis Slave Market was a high-end establishment. They would have been thorough about that sort of thing.

"Good. Then I'll call you Luna."

Her eyes went as wide as saucers. They had been large to begin with; like this, she looked as if she had stepped out of a romance comic. Luna's pupils locked onto me, and the killing intent in them was unmistakable. Having this attractive naked woman glare at me was, against all expectation, not a bad feeling at all. A deliciously illicit thrill ran through me.

"You're wearing your feelings a little too plainly, Luna. Doesn't that rather waste all the effort you put into changing your name and laundering your identity?"

"Who… are you?"

Shock and rage were mixed in roughly equal measure in her voice. I didn't have mind-reading, but reading her was not difficult. The shock was because her identity had been exposed. The rage was because she was certain my identity had something ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to do with the people who had put her in this position.

I tossed something to Luna in that tangled state. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Jean's memento, which I had been keeping carefully in my inventory.

"This is… the Solar Medal…?"

She recognized it at once. Of course she did. If anyone in this world ought to know that medal, it was her.

Luna Bluemoon — a member of the Moon Clan, and the hidden piece essential for clearing the Demon King in the second playthrough. I looked her in the eye and boldly impersonated the Hero.

Luna Bluemoon.

She was a member of the Moon Clan. More than that, her father was the current Demon King, Halo Bluemoon. In other words, Luna was the daughter of the game's final boss.

The power of the Moon Clan ran stronger the closer one stood to the direct bloodline. The current Demon King was a monster ranked among the strongest in history, and Luna, who had inherited that blood, possessed tremendous talent of her own.

The misfortune was that her mother had been an ordinary continental. The island where the Moon Clan lived kept continental slaves. Periodically, the clan crossed to the mainland on slave hunts; they needed hands for the menial work.

Luna had been a byproduct of lust, born while Halo Bluemoon amused himself with a slave of continental origin. The Moon Clan despised mixed blood. Dregs born that way were typically disposed of.

Luna's mother had loved her. Even carrying the blood of the Demon King who had used her, Luna was still her daughter. She fought desperately to keep the girl alive. The Demon King tore her own body to pieces — but she succeeded in getting Luna off the island. And so Luna washed up on the continent alone.

She put herself into a slave merchant's hands of her own will. Slave status was the most convenient way to evade the Moon Clan's pursuit. Slaves circulated like merchandise, which made borders easy to cross and names easy to hide. In practice, she abandoned the name Luna and used Kate.

Halo Bluemoon, the current Moon Demon King, was called the strongest in history. In the first playthrough, the protagonist Jean and his companions gave everything they had to kill him, and failed. Jean returned for a second playthrough carrying the memories of the first, by the power of the Solar Medal, and challenged the Demon King again with that experience behind him.

What that second playthrough required was Luna. As the Demon King's daughter, she wielded a powerful lunar force. That power was essential to face the strongest Demon King in history.

"You, a Hero…? I find that hard to believe."

Luna made no effort to hide her astonishment. The address "Master" had become a mere "you." It wasn't so much a matter of principle — that as a member of the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Moon Clan she could not use honorifics toward the Solar Hero — as it was that she now considered currying my favor with "Master" a waste of effort.

Did she think I meant to harm her? Well, the Solar Hero and the Moon Clan had been at odds for centuries. It wasn't a strange conclusion to reach.

"The very fact that I knew of you and found you is proof that I am the Hero. I found you when even the Moon Demon King could not. That would be impossible without the power of the Solar Medal. As a member of the Moon Clan, you know well what the Solar Medal can do, don't you?"

"The Solar Medal… I have heard it holds the power to see the past, the present, and the future."

"The power to see the important past, the necessary present, and the correct future."

That was right. One of the Solar Medal's key abilities was precisely this: it could show the past, the present, or the future. In the game, it was the hint system. When the second playthrough began, the elements required to reach the true ending could be learned through the Solar Medal.

The setting book called it the power to see the correct future. It was a prophecy system in all but name, and an extremely convenient one for me. All I had to do was claim I had learned through the Solar Medal what I actually knew from the strategy guide.

"I have seen your past, Luna Bluemoon. A woman of the Moon Clan who hates the Demon King more than anyone alive. To bring down the strongest Demon King in history, I need your power — a power filled with rage and hatred. That is why I purchased you."

Confusion flickered in her eyes. Of course it did. The Solar Hero suddenly reaching out a hand to her? It was almost unimaginable. And at the same time, an enormous opportunity had just fallen into her lap.

She could never have expected a chance like this to arrive. In the original, Luna followed the protagonist for a single reason: to kill Halo Bluemoon, her father and her nemesis. To annihilate the man who had murdered her beloved mother and destroyed her peaceful life, Luna joined the protagonist's party.

"……What does the Demon King's future look like?"

"The Medal hasn't shown me that far yet."

"Is that… so?"

In truth, she was already my slave, so commanding her was no problem. But killing the Demon King would require more than superficial obedience. It would require complete submission. If she only pretended to obey on the surface, she would not contribute enough power to the subjugation. I was talking her through this in order to conquer her heart.

Luna's deliberation was not long. It hadn't been in the original, and it wasn't now. She lifted her head and looked into my eyes.

"I will follow you. Master."

The form of address had returned to Master.