Just Live Like This
Arin's eyes wavered for a moment. "Th-then... is it okay if I just do nothing and stay like this?"
"Of course." I nodded. That was the only thing I expected from her, after all.
"Wh-what shouldn't I do?"
"Just keep doing what you're doing now. If I had to nitpick..." I recalled the slave-related accidents I'd seen in the 'Incidents and Accidents' section of online forums. "Crime is a no-go. Fighting in person is bad enough, but getting hit with something like defamation from online arguments would just be a hassle."
"W-will I get thrown away?"
"Finding a new slave would be a pain, so I won't ditch you unless it's extreme. But if you become more trouble than you're worth... well, no choice."
I hadn't lived a life worth bragging about, but at least I could say I'd never done anything truly bad. Aside from reissuing a lost driver's license, I'd never set foot in a police station, and excluding school volunteer trips, I'd never ridden in a cop car. I didn't want to have to cover for her crimes and end up haunting those places.
"And... extravagance."
"Ex-extravagance?"
It was vague, but I was sure her idea of "extravagance" differed from mine—the level I was worried about.
"Designer clothes, bags, or cars in the tens of millions of won range. Or eating at fine dining every day, buying up companies."
"Eh?"
"If you're worried, I'll just give you an allowance. Buy whatever you want within that."
It might seem like pointless spending, but I could handle this much. Feelings of inferiority or deprivation could warp anyone's mind. Even a normal person could change if it became their daily life. As long as she spent at a level similar to mine—no more, no less—I wouldn't interfere.
"200,000 won a month. Tell me if you need anything extra. That should be plenty, right?"
"Plenty? That's... ugh."
It was average office worker salary, but she wasn't paying rent or utilities.
"Plus, I'll set up a separate account for shared household stuff, so use that."
"Y-you... these are insane conditions. This isn't a slave, it's..."
"Just don't cause trouble. Don't steal my stuff or threaten me directly. That's it. Easy, right?"
"But still..."
"Want more?"
"Eek!" Arin shook her head furiously. "No, no! No! But..."
"Just take it. And keep living like you are now."
"But if you're going that far... there must be some other reason—w-wait, do you have a girlfriend?"
"Nah, none."
We had to live together face-to-face. No need for her to live looking like death warmed over in poverty.
"Just don't say weird stuff if the slave management center people come by. No crimes. No accidents. Use money only within what I allow."
That was all I wanted.
"Ah..."
It wasn't incomprehensible. People react like that when sudden luck hits beyond their station. She was different in degree, but I'd probably worn the same face in the mirror not long ago.
"Not bad conditions. Nothing weird. So... you can do it, right?"
"Y-yes! I can!"
"Good."
Our talk was over. I took a sip of booze. Arin glanced at me, then followed suit with a small gulp. Tears welled in her eyes—she clearly wasn't much of a drinker.
"Thank you..."
If she saw this as gratitude, it was fine by me. If she took it for granted and demanded more, that'd be different, but I could easily support a normal person or two.
"Wasn't it your family's debt that dragged you here? No need to force it."
"Th-that's fine! Actually, it wasn't exactly..."
"A lie?"
Some embellishment to sell better was possible, but habitual liars weren't trustworthy.
"No. It's not a lie, but... honestly..." Her eyes shook again. "If I'd just been a little more decent... maybe I could've paid it off somehow."
"A fresh grad doesn't make that much."
It was pointless talk. We both knew it. Without the debt, maybe, but repaying billions with interest wasn't easy. Even working nonstop for a decade without spending might not cut it. If the family pitched in, maybe, but still.
"Things were okay before... but I didn't work, just stayed home... maybe I thought I could keep living like that forever..."
"...Yeah."
She didn't seem like the overly responsible type or someone who'd quit a job to become a slave. I'd figured her parents' business tanked suddenly, they needed cash fast, and she sold herself.
"I'm not much different."
"Huh? But... you have tons of money?"
"Made it recently. Got lucky."
"But..."
"I had a job, but quit for no good reason."
I'd been irresponsible too, tried to run. Judging her now that I had money would be shameless.
"How the hell..."
"Clear Battle Coin. Kinda stumbled into it."
Her face twisted in shock.
"Y-y-y-you bought that?"
"Yeah. Wasn't planning to invest, though—"
"No! Quick! Come here! No time! Hurry!"
"...Why?"
Drunk and panicked, she rushed me and yanked my arm hard.
"Calm down. What's the big deal?"
"No time! Check the coin site now!"
"Why..."
Figuring there must be a reason, I let her drag me to the computer and opened the site.
"...Huh? You have zero?"
"Sold 'em all, that's why I have cash. But what's with the sudden—"
Looking closer, Clear Battle Coin's value had cratered beyond words. If I'd sold now, I wondered if it'd even buy a chicken.
"S-sorry! I thought you might still hold some—"
"How'd you know?"
"Morning news..."
Not super helpful, but the intent was sweet. Her money didn't grow with mine. Sure, if I went broke, her support might shrink, but it wasn't panic-worthy enough to drag me to the PC like this.
I could trust her on that.
"S-sor—"
"Thanks."
She bowed her head, trembling. I wanted to calm her, but didn't know how. She'd tried to help me, result meaningful or not. It built trust.
15 years. If no issues, we'd live together that long. I could abandon her anytime since I paid, but still. Realizing she took my assets seriously was progress.
"Hic."
"Hm?"
She collapsed. I barely caught her.
"Hnnnngh..."
Exhaustion or tension—she'd passed out.
"What the..."
She wasn't heavy. I awkwardly scooped her up. No experience carrying unconscious people, so my hold was clumsy. No bra? Softness pressed through her clothes. Her breasts squished with every movement. Her ass felt firm under my hand.
Wasn't planning to grope.
No dirty intentions, but any slip and she'd fall. Finally adjusting, I carefully carried her to her bed and laid her down.
"Nngh..."
"D-don't move!"
Instinctively, she nuzzled into my chest. Hot breath on my skin. Somehow I dumped her on the bed, threw on the blanket, and stared at her sleeping face.
Pretty. Even at the slave market, no one knocked her looks.
Defenseless. Our sex was institutionally guaranteed. Worst case, I could reclaim the money and return her, or if she refused clearly, make her a criminal. Light sentence maybe, but some slaves got real jail for gaslighting owners and refusing sex.
She probably wouldn't resist if I touched her now. The type burdened by what she received. Giving her one more reason to stay wouldn't earn glares of resentment.
"..."
I closed the door.
Sat back at the monitor.
Started the game.
Like yesterday, the day before. Same as years ago.
It felt pretty damn comfortable.