Chapter 10
Chapter 10
A shabby kitchen bathed in the morning sunlight.
Once again, I was the one standing in front of the pot.
“Hmm~!”
I was stirring the stew with a wooden spatula when a rustling sound came from behind me.
Glancing toward the bed, I saw Camellia rubbing her eyes with a messy face, the old blanket pulled up to her chin.
“You’re up. Go wash your face and eat.”
“Ah… yes, Nasus. Good morning!”
Underneath her platinum hair that shimmered in the sunlight, Camellia gave a faint smile.
Seeing that innocent, fresh smile, I let out a quiet sigh of relief inside.
‘Phew, thankfully after everything that happened yesterday, she seems to have regained her composure.’
In fact, after crying her heart out in the slum alley yesterday, her expression seemed even brighter.
‘She’s overcome the fear of the downturn, and now the rebound signal is clear—only upward from here!’
Suddenly, I remembered when I first picked her up for a single silver coin.
Back then, Camellia, barely knowing me yet, was so broken that calling her a "person" felt like a stretch.
“Here, eat up and get your energy back.”
I placed a dish of duck meat I had bought with every coin from my wallet in front of her.
She trembled violently, had a seizure, and finally began shedding tears while muttering strange words.
“Eek! Goose! Sob… please… I don’t want to become… a goose beast….”
‘…A goose beast?
What the hell is a goose beast?
And why on earth would I want to turn you into one?’
…
Apparently, she was a scared little thing with deep scars, likely from some past abuse involving geese.
Now she could smile brightly and respond to my greetings. The sweet fruit of patient endurance was slowly ripening.
“Hmm~ Nasus, the stew smells amazing today.”
“Of course. It has my special secret sauce in it.”
As Camellia took a careful spoonful, her expression melted in delight.
“Wow, it’s really delicious!”
While she chewed, she noticed me staring and tilted her head.
“Nasus? Did you want to say something?”
“Uh, that… it’s nothing.”
I struggled to swallow the question lodged in my throat.
‘You… can really use magic, right? I saw you use mana yesterday! And that time you healed my wound—it wasn’t a dream!’
I wanted to ask her the truth with all my excitement.
But… I had to hold back.
If I pushed too hard with someone who had only just opened her heart and smiled innocently, she might slam it shut again.
‘Right. Rash impatience is the fastest way to ruin an investment.’
I took a short breath and organized my thoughts.
Then I turned to the practical matters at hand.
That Drake bastard had run off in panic thanks to my perfect sick-patient act yesterday, so he wouldn’t be setting foot in this slum for a while.
But he wasn’t the only problem.
This harsh slum was full of hyena-like troublemakers ready to prey on my “premium stock.”
If someone approached the lone Camellia while I was doing backbreaking labor outside…
What use would it be to have uncovered a skyrocketing stock only to have it stolen or ruined?
Just thinking about it made my blood boil.
In this brutal otherworld, protecting my precious asset meant I needed a secure medium—a bodyguard of sorts—to stay close.
But hiring a mercenary to guard a long-term investment?
That would be more costly than the investment itself.
The management fees alone would melt my wallet and bankrupt me.
My hand stirring the stew slowed.
‘So… what should I do? Should I buy a cheap guard-slave to protect her?’
At first, it was just a ridiculous thought.
But then, like a lightning strike in my mind, one phrase flashed.
[Don’t put all your eggs in one basket.]
“Ah…!”
I blurted it out without thinking.
Right.
Diversification!
Portfolio diversification!
The more I thought about it, the more dangerous my current investment strategy seemed.
I had poured 100% of my assets, time, and even health into a single, high-potential but extremely volatile “long-term investment”—Camellia.
If the basket dropped, all the eggs could break at once.
It was an investment strategy with zero risk management—the kind only a beginner would make.
‘Right… I don’t need to be so fixated on Camellia alone.’
Of course, I firmly believed she would awaken as a great archmage someday.
But until then, if I wanted to avoid dying from overwork, I needed another pipeline to generate cash quickly.
‘This time, not a blind long-term hold… but a slave I can put to work immediately and pull steady profits from!’
Someone who could act as Camellia’s bodyguard in my absence, and also earn money outside—a solid, cost-effective slave!
Though it meant an extra mouth to feed, I still had the substantial “investment funds” I had successfully secured from my rich friend Myrtle.
With this seed money and my [Divine Insight], the plan seemed entirely feasible.
I marveled at my own foresight and calmed my swelling excitement.
‘Alright, decision made. Execution is best when swift!’
Camellia sat at the old table, blowing on the stew I had made, eating it carefully as if it were precious.
Her plump cheeks looked peaceful and cute, like a squirrel hiding a stash of acorns.
Breaking the warm silence, I declared my investment plan’s conclusion plainly and clearly.
“Camellia. Shall we get another slave?”
The wooden spoon in her hand clattered loudly onto the table.
“…Cough!! Ugh, heh!!”
Choked, her face turning bright red, she pounded her chest as she coughed violently.
“Hey! Slow down, what’s wrong?”
I stepped forward to pat her back, but she flinched and scooted her chair backward.
“A-another… slave… you mean…?”
A massive earthquake seemed to strike her clear eyes again.
“Am I not enough… am I useless now…?”
“Hey, that’s not it. Stop with the self-deprecation.”
“Uh…? Th-then why are you getting a new slave…?”
“Well, obviously to make some quick profits and flip them efficiently,” I said with total openness.
At my utterly capitalist reply, Camellia’s trembling lips parted in shock.
“Y-you mean… from a slave… you… squeeze profits… and sell…?!”
“Uh, yeah… I know that’s how it sounds. Saying it aloud makes me sound like a total weirdo.”
“Eh? Ah, sorry… then what does it mean?”
Camellia asked with wide eyes. I scratched the back of my head, trying to pick the right words.
“Well, it’s like… getting a worker or helper who can assist with household chores for a short time, maybe also earn some money outside… more like an employee? Not a rigid employment, though…”
I paused, then tried to soften it with a warm nuance to ease her.
“Yeah. Your friend. I want to get you a ‘friend.’”
“My… friend?”
Camellia echoed in a daze.
Hmm. Saying “buy a friend with money” sounded weird.
How should I put it?
A mutually beneficial partner?
Or just a roommate?
…
While I struggled to find the right term, Camellia’s previously trembling expression became calm.
As if she had made a big decision, her fists whitened.
“Nasus.”
A quiet but firm call.
I looked up, and her eyes were clear, unwavering, staring directly at me.
“If you’re going to spend money recklessly because of me… to worry about my safety… please…”
“……”
“Please don’t do that.”
She begged earnestly.
“I’m already receiving more than I deserve. Every time you cook me delicious stew with money you’ve earned through sweat and toil… I’m grateful, but part of me aches.”
Her voice trembled, as if recalling everything that had happened.
“You don’t need to invest more in a slave like me. Please, don’t push yourself for my sake. A helper or a friend is fine. Just staying healthy by my side is enough.”
‘…Ah.’
In that moment, all the cold investment formulas in my mind stopped.
In the stock market, yes, assets should be diversified.
But a slave
was not a number on a chart.
Someone like Camellia—
with blood, with worries, someone who could cry or laugh—
was a living person.
Bringing in someone new would divide not only my capital but my limited stamina and time.
Much more troublesome than buying stocks.
If mismanaged, both could fail disastrously.
‘Right, trying to catch two rabbits might make me lose both.’
“Hmm… got it.”
I exhaled long and smiled wryly.
“But you need to lock the doors, always be careful when going out… don’t follow strangers… and also…”
“Yes! I’ll remember, Nasus!”
Camellia’s face finally relaxed into a smile.
Seeing that radiant smile, I hastily shoveled the now-cooling stew into my mouth.
After the morning scuffle, I was going to be late for work. I wiped my mouth and hurried out.
“See you later!”
A narrow alley in the slum on my way to work.
People were unusually crowded, murmuring among themselves.
Through the crowd came the sharp crack of a whip and fierce curses.
“Who does this slave girl think she is?! Can’t you kneel at once?!”
I inadvertently turned my gaze and paused.
A burly man, apparently the owner, was mercilessly whipping a small, collapsed slave on the ground.
The muddy street reeked of filth.
The cowering slave looked pitiful, barely able to stand.
The body was covered with whip marks, flesh torn and crushed before it had healed.
‘Clearly an abused slave.’
A common, everyday tragedy in this world.
Yet strangely…
The slave, beaten so brutally, did not cry out even once.
Instead, with a bloodied head held high, the slave glared at the whip-wielding man with murderous intent.
‘Those eyes… that’s not ordinary.’
Not a regular slave, clearly.
But that was as far as it went.
‘Pity, but… I’m not in a position to intervene.’
Keeping one premium stock alive was already a bloody task, let alone taking on someone else’s misfortune.
From the perspective of a 21st-century human, it was disgusting and cruel.
But in this cursed world, slaves were treated worse than street animals; that was the natural “norm.”
Resisting the urge to gag, I turned back toward my work.
Then, as my eyes met those of the fallen slave,
the surrounding scene shimmered.
A new landscape began to unfold before me.
[Divine Insight].
But that… what on earth…?