Branding - 1
"I'm home, Master?"
From the moment I pressed the doorbell, I could hear footsteps excitedly rushing toward the door. Arin came running with the face of a puppy guarding the house. She threw herself straight into my arms.
"I missed you..."
"Me too."
My mouth tasted bitter. My worries deepened.
"What's up all of a sudden? Something happen?"
"Ah, I just had a talk with the tax accountant."
"What'd he say?"
At a loss for words, I hesitated for a moment before taking off my shoes and stepping inside.
"I'll explain slowly. Just wait a sec."
It wasn't something I could easily bring up in front of her. After changing clothes, I calmly pulled out some coffee and sat at the dining table.
"What's going on? D-Did we go bankrupt? Are we ruined?"
"It's not like that!"
"Even if something like that happened, it'd be okay! I-I'd somehow make money, so if you just wait calmly—"
"Stop with the nonsense. Slaves can't earn money in the first place, remember?"
I lightly grabbed her cheek and gave it a little shake, then let out a deep sigh.
"He said I need to get more slaves."
"Why? Don't I count? Doesn't that mean no singleton tax?"
"I thought so too."
"...Really?"
"Turns out, once your assets hit a certain level, there are additional taxes on top."
I hadn't known that until the accountant told me.
Basically, ordinary people don't really know what taxes the wealthy pay. Sure, they might hear about it, but only when the rich complain about it in the media. Otherwise, there's no way to know.
"There were all these weird conditions tacked on."
It wasn't some ancient tax, but it felt custom-made to target me.
"It's called the singleton tax, but there are a bunch of exemptions. Like job creation or setting up a charitable foundation..."
But I hadn't done any of that. A foundation might not be a bad idea even now, but it would still take time.
"If you can't do any of that, the only option is to just buy more slaves like an idiot. Or... he said it goes down a lot once you start having kids..."
"Ehh..."
Arin clicked her tongue. I slowly explained everything the tax accountant had told me.
"That's too much."
"Yeah, kinda... but what can you do? Everyone else is paying it without issue."
More accurately, they're taking all sorts of measures to avoid it.
"So... honestly, I was thinking of just paying the tax. No big deal for me."
"What? That doesn't make sense! Even if buying slaves costs money, he's telling you this because it's a net loss otherwise, right?"
"We've got plenty of cash anyway."
I needed to start thinking more precisely about the value of my money.
"Money's just a means to happiness in the end."
I had no intention of letting it control me.
"One slave? Fine, unavoidable. You didn't seem risky, and the taxes I paid as a true singleton were insane anyway."
"Ah..."
For someone as rich as me, the singleton tax as a bachelor was astronomical. One wrong business move, and bankruptcy from taxes alone wouldn't be surprising.
"Still, the extra tax I have to pay now isn't that brutal."
Of course, the sheer amount didn't change. But compared to my economic scale, what I spent was negligible. Even paying this tax for a century would barely dent the numbers in my account—nothing meaningful.
"Anyway, if we keep going and have kids, it'll drop. Or I could start a foundation or company now."
It'd be a pain in the ass, but better than making Arin unhappy.
"Th-That's... fine! You don't need to do that because of me!"
But Arin shook her head frantically, hands trembling as she stopped me.
"You haven't told me exactly how much you have, but it's not a small amount, right? The money you're spending just because you didn't buy more slaves."
"Definitely not small."
"Then just do it. Spending that much because of me... it's, um, a huge burden."
"You don't need to think that way."
"It's lonely too. Since I'm your slave anyway, wouldn't it be okay to have a few more in the same boat?"
I'd expected strong resistance. But surprisingly, Arin didn't seem negative about a "new slave."
"No possessiveness or... anything?"
"Of course I do. But... you're too good for me to have you all to myself."
"That much?"
"You're handsome, kind, sometimes idiotically sweet, and rich."
Arin gripped my hand tightly, as if she truly loved me.
"Even if you gave me a 'free boyfriend pass' and told me to pick anyone, I'd choose you. Subjectively and objectively."
"...Thanks."
"Thanks are thanks, but yeah. I'm really happy I met you. Happy now, and probably tomorrow too."
I felt unworthy. I wasn't that great.
"So, hogging you all to myself feels too greedy. Anyone who meets you would be happy, so I want more people to have that happiness."
"...Okay."
Her feelings were clear. The decision was back in my hands.
If Arin had said no, it might've been easier to refuse...
Bringing in more slaves was the smart choice. But the anxiety lingered.
Separate from whether I was a good master to Arin, she was the perfect slave. Stunning looks, responsive, no troublemaking—and above all, she loved me.
Think how hard it is to find an employee who truly loves their company or a soldier who truly loves their country. Arin was one in a lifetime—even if I scoured slave markets forever, I'd never find another like her. Not even with hundreds more slaves.
"Alright. Got it."
"So I'm getting a junior... Hmm, gotta treat her well, right?"
No jealousy, no suspicion. Arin just smiled purely.
"Even if I bring her in, no plans to touch her for a while. Just like with you."
"Really?"
"Unless she asks first... You've got me anyway."
I reached out and lightly poked her breast with a finger.
"Eek!"
Arin glanced at me slyly and flashed a cute smile.
"That's... kinda wasteful."
"Huh?"
"With a new slave coming, I wanted to cling to you super tight tonight under the excuse that we won't be able to have sex for a bit..."
"Oh, yeah?"
I stood up. Casually took her hand and led her slowly to my room.
"Then what was last night?"
"Uh..."
Arin scratched her head lightly.
"We don't need a reason anyway."
She was enjoying it. I was enjoying it. When Arin and I mixed bodies, no other reason was needed.
Soon, I embraced her.
/////
I took a taxi to the slave market right after waking up. The sun was already setting.
...How long were we at it?
Even knowing Arin's feelings hadn't made my lifestyle any healthier. My schedule was still erratic—falling asleep after sunrise or waking up late evening was common.
I'd just started sharing those "sleep and wake" times with Arin. And that was enough.
I might be late. She wouldn't nag, but keeping promises mattered.
Rushing over, I twisted away just as a woman collapsed in front of me.
"Huh?"
A little later, and we'd have fallen together.
Next to the woman, a fat man glared at her.
"What the hell? Huh? You're sold already. You think you can dawdle like that, you slave?"
"S-Sorry..."
Sick bastard. He was probably getting off on "buying a woman straight from the slave market," even if it strained him.
If bought normally like me, the woman wouldn't leave half-naked from the market—she'd visit the "Master's" home on her own after purchase.
...
It was consensual. None of my business.
Walking to the slave market entrance, I spotted a middle-aged man staring at me anxiously.
"Y-Young man!"
"...Me?"
"Y-Your wallet fell out back there! Wallet!"
"What?"
Startled, I whipped around. From the minor incident earlier, my wallet—sticking out of my pocket—lay on the ground.
That was close...
In my old life, losing a wallet wasn't a big deal. Just the cash inside and the wallet itself were a shame. Reissue cards, ID, license—annoying, but a mere hiccup.
But now? I knew how horrific someone impersonating me could be, even slightly.
I picked up the wallet and bowed gratefully to the man.
"Thank you."
"..."
His face darkened.
"Y-You're going in to buy a slave... right?"
"Yes."
"Then... could I ask a favor? Just one?"
The man's eyes trembled.