Her Rather Pitiful Life
"...Lord Line."
Gulp. Franche swallowed so heavily that the sound echoed clearly to where I stood. But who on earth was Line? I'm sure I've heard that name somewhere. Before my untimely death, I had recorded countless walkthrough videos in my quest to unlock every single ending of this game, meaning I knew almost every character of note. If I couldn't recall him, he had to be a complete extra.
The man called Line strode toward us with long, confident steps. Stopping directly in front of Franche, he narrowed his eyes and glared down at her. Franche subtly averted her gaze, turning her head away.
"The mansion is in quite an uproar. Explain yourself."
"...The matter has already been discussed and settled."
"Ha! Just because you spoke with Brother and Father doesn't mean my anger is appeased." Line turned his head slightly, casting a sidelong glance at me. He scanned me from head to toe, his lip curling in disgust. "Looking at your state, you must be a filthy slave. You even reek of a monster's stench. Did you seriously buy this thing?"
Well, now that he mentioned it, I hadn't bathed yet. No wonder I felt so disgustingly sticky. Franche broke out in a cold sweat, her lips trembling as she struggled to find her words. Why did she act so helpless in front of her own family? What was the reason? Why did the members of this household look at her with such utter contempt? My mind swirled with questions.
"So, why is that slave here?"
"I brought him because... I wanted someone who would listen to me."
"Listen to you? Ha! Don't make me laugh." Line turned his head to glance at me again. "Fine, let's hear it. How did you acquire him?"
"...I purchased him for a fortune."
"What...? No matter how freely you're allowed to squander money, you threw it away on a bastard like this? On a slave who is no better than trash?"
Hey, calling me trash is a bit much. I am still a human being, thank you very much. Until just recently, this body belonged to the prince of a nation... Of course, the soul inside is just a shut-in million-subscriber YouTuber who did nothing but play games in his room all day, but still.
"This slave is no ordinary slave. He is the prince of a fallen kingdom."
"A prince of a fallen kingdom? That monster of Barenberg?"
"Yes. I heard he was put up for sale at the auction house, so I bought him immediately."
"And where did you get that information? There's no way a shut-in like you would have any way of knowing."
"...From an information broker." Franche, who had been holding Line's gaze, looked away. I noticed her hands trembling. Should I just stand by and watch this? Hmm. I'm just a slave, so let's keep quiet for now.
"An information broker? Don't talk nonsense! How would someone like you, who does nothing but flit between salons and banquets, even know how to find one?"
Franche pleaded. "It's the truth! If you don't believe me, I can introduce you to the broker myself!"
"Do you honestly think I'd believe that? Foolish girl."
"Please! Why do you find me so utterly untrustworthy?!"
"Look at how you usually behave! Would anyone in their right mind trust you?!"
"It's not fair!"
"How dare this wench raise her voice at me!" Line's hand flew up. Was he actually going to strike his own sister? Should I stop this? But I was a mere slave. Was I allowed to interfere in the internal affairs of a ducal family? In that split second, a flurry of thoughts raced through my mind. I weighed my options. And the decision I made was...
Slap! To take the blow in her stead.
Line's face twisted in sheer disbelief. His brow furrowed deeply, and his mouth hung open in an ugly, lopsided gape. "What do you think you're doing, you mere slave?"
"My master commanded me to stand by her side, no matter what. I am merely executing her orders." I glared at him, my eyes wide and unblinking. Perhaps it was the raw killing intent laced in my gaze, but Line flinched and took a hesitant step back.
"Do you still think you're royalty? You don't even know your place, do you?" I met his words with silence. I wanted nothing more than to smash my fist into his skull, but I forced myself to endure it.
"You slave bastard!" Slap! Line's hand whipped across my cheek. In the end, it had to come to this. I had lost count of how many times I'd been slapped since arriving in this world.
"You still dare to glare at me?!" Thud! This time, his boot slammed into my abdomen. I lost my balance and tumbled backward onto the floor. Honestly, it didn't hurt at all. Jin's body was ridiculously sturdy.
"My Lord, please...!"
"You're the problem here, you damn wench!" Line's hand rose once more. I scrambled to my feet and threw myself in front of her. Slap! Another blow landed squarely on my face.
"You crazy bastard...!" Franche tugged at my arm, her voice trembling. "Stop it...!" What is she even saying? You were the one who begged me to be on your side, no matter what. I'm doing exactly what you asked, and you're still complaining. Well, to be fair, my main goal is to raise her affection points, but still. This is so frustrating...
Just then, Franche fell to her knees, groveling on the floor once more. "I'm sorry. I'll make sure nothing like this ever happens again."
Unable to bear the sight any longer, Line clicked his tongue in disgust. The look he cast at Franche was the kind of gaze reserved for a pile of rotting garbage. "..." This was getting painful to watch. Had she really spent her entire life being abused and neglected by her own family? Was that why she desperately begged me to be on her side? So Franche had a pitiful past of her own. I didn't know the full story, but she was truly a tragic soul.
"Tsk. If any unsavory rumors start spreading about you and that male slave, know that you are finished." Slam! Line slammed the door shut behind him as he stormed out. What a lunatic. He was finally gone. I helped Franche to her feet. "Are you alright, My Lady?"
"...I'm fine." Franche slumped weakly into a nearby chair. "Haaah..." My own mind grew heavy with complicated thoughts. "You had to witness something so pathetic. Well, I suppose it was to be expected." A deep, hollow sorrow bled through her voice. It made me feel a strange pang of melancholy.
"But what on earth were you thinking? It could have been resolved with a single slap to my face, but you dragged it out."
"Did you not command me to be your sole ally, My Lady? I was merely executing that order." Franche let out a soft sigh. Though she looked utterly defeated, a faint, fleeting smile played at the corners of her lips, as if my words had brought her some small comfort.
"Anyway... I'm sorry for leaving you in that state. I will speak to the Head Butler, so go wash up first. You really do smell quite terrible."
"Understood."
"And you will be assigned a room. From now on, you will likely be living alongside the Duke's knights..." Franche's expression was beyond complicated; she looked deeply troubled. She was probably worried that the knights would torment me. To think she's worrying about me when her own situation is this dire. Was her true nature actually good? Perhaps she was only twisted into a villainess by this abusive household and the rise of the ever-successful Somire. It was a truly tragic tale.
"That will not be an issue. You are worried the knights might try to torment me, correct?"
"...Yes. The knights of the Decartes family are incredibly prideful."
A pointless worry. A knight's worth is proven through martial might. With the player system and Jin Barenberg's monstrous strength, dealing with a few ducal knights would be a walk in the park. I wasn't just some ordinary knight—I was a legendary Sword Master.
"You do not need to worry, My Lady. I am far stronger than you think." Though, to be honest, I don't actually know how to fight. If I just swing my fists, they'll probably all go down anyway.
"...If trouble arises, I won't be in a position to shield you. As you saw, I am..."
"You do not need to speak of such things, My Lady. Any trouble I cause, I will resolve myself."
Franche pressed a hand to her forehead. "I think you are forgetting that your status is that of a slave. A prisoner of war. The knights serving this house are all nobles. If anything happens, you could be executed...!"
"It will not be a problem." I cut her off firmly. It was a rather insolent attitude for a slave to display toward his master, but she could never afford to abandon me. She would tolerate this much. "You do not need to worry needlessly."
"You've been saying nothing but that since earlier...!" The reason I spoke with such absolute confidence was simple: Duke Decartes was a strict meritocrat. Even if I was a mere slave, if I beat down all of his knights, the Duke would blame the knights for their weakness rather than punishing me. That was simply the kind of man he was. So, there would be no problem. Probably.
"Anyway... It is late, so you should head out. I will speak to the Head Butler about your quarters."
"Understood. I wish you a good night."
I stepped out of the room and waited for a moment before encountering the Head Butler. One look at his cold eyes told me exactly what was running through his mind.
"...The training grounds are that way. Most of the facilities you will need are located inside the dormitory, so keep that in mind."
"Understood."
"I shall have a uniform and casual wear prepared for you."
"Thank you."
With those parting words, the Head Butler turned and walked away. I made my way toward the training grounds. Perhaps because of the late hour, there wasn't a single knight in sight. They had been summoned earlier, so they were likely resting by now. I took a look around the dormitory. True to the Head Butler's words, it was fully equipped with almost every amenity imaginable—a bathroom with piped running water, a lounge, bedrooms, and more. As expected of a ducal household. Even the knights live in luxury.
I headed straight for the bathroom to wash up. Fortunately, soap existed in this world. If I'd had to wash with nothing but cold water, I probably would have died of discomfort. I scrubbed every inch of my body, using the soap to wash away the lingering stench of sweat and monster blood. A wave of pure, unadulterated refreshment washed over me.
When I stepped out of the bath, a crisp uniform and a set of casual clothes were hanging neatly on a rack. I changed into the casual wear, slung the uniform over my arm, and walked out. "Phew." Now I finally feel human again.
"Your quarters are elsewhere. Follow me." I quietly followed behind the Head Butler, taking in my surroundings. Is it really okay for a knights' dormitory to be this luxurious? Well, I suppose you need this kind of absurd wealth to casually blow fifty thousand gold on a single slave. But the place we finally arrived at... was a dusty, neglected warehouse, completely contrary to my expectations.
"This should be more than sufficient for a slave. If you find it uncomfortable, clean it yourself and make do." I gave a silent nod. The Head Butler narrowed his eyes, staring at me for a long moment before stepping out and shutting the door behind him. Thud. "That old bastard." Talk about terrible treatment.
I swept a patch of the floor as best as I could and laid out my bedding. The dust was so thick it made me cough and stung my eyes. I threw open the window and vigorously beat the dust out of the blanket and pillow. Whack! Whack!Well, I still need to sleep. I finally lay down. Resting my head on the pillow, I gazed out the window at the night sky. Utterly indifferent to my miserable plight, a shooting star streaked across the heavens, leaving a brilliant trail that merged into the constellations. It was a breathtakingly beautiful sight.
"Haaah." I want to go home. I want fried chicken. I want spicy chicken feet. I want chicken gizzards. I want a hot bowl of blood sausage soup...Growl. "Come to think of it, I haven't eaten a single thing today." Those absolute bastards. The least they could do is feed me... Well, to be fair, it was the middle of the night, so it wasn't exactly dinner time.
Hmm, but where exactly are we on the timeline? It feels like the main story hasn't even officially kicked off yet. If my memory served me right, a grand banquet marking the true beginning of the main plot would be held soon. The incident that would unfold there would set off a chain reaction, dragging everyone down to their ultimate ruin... Wait, but the one who actually causes that ruin is supposed to be me. ...I'd better watch my step. Since I had never played from the villainess's perspective, this was all mere speculation, but the curtain was clearly about to rise. Still, even if the story was about to begin, I wasn't particularly worried. As long as I was here, the future would change. I would escape this slave status. And I would survive—no matter what it took—in this brutally unforgiving world.