The Identical Ideal Slaves
A few more people came in. But my impression hadn't changed. I could guess what each one was emphasizing as their strong point. The woman with the cold impression, the cute puppy-faced one, the relatively plain-looking one but with big breasts. Surprisingly, their personalities were all pretty similar. I never imagined there were so many families in Korea with such strict Confucian upbringings. Of course, since they'd all been filtered once for being virgins, the odds of deep Confucian family backgrounds went up, but even so, I hadn't expected it to this degree.
Obedient to their master, docile and submissive personalities. They never refused what their owner wanted and diligently performed any household task. Their hobbies weren't much different either. Girly pastimes that wouldn't attract guys. Taking photos, hitting up restaurants, traveling, and so on. And even among those, when asked, "Have you ever been on a trip?" they all denied it. Not a single one had pets, but countless said they liked animals. Even I, as dense as I am, could sense something was off with all this.
"Come in."
Maybe it was just because I'd met too few people. I irritably slurped the iced coffee that was now just ice, then prepared to greet the next one.
"Sorry, it's me this time!"
The staff member came in with an awkward smile.
"What's this? You too, surely... aspiring slave?"
"No! Well, if you promised to take me, I'd happily become your slave, but there's a bunch of procedures to becoming one."
She casually gauged my reaction. Pondering what that look meant, I called out just in case.
"Have a seat."
"Yep!"
The moment she sat, the staff opened her tablet.
"I thought these were some of our shop's best picks, but they keep failing."
"Hmm..."
"There are aspiring slaves chatting with other customers or not in today, but getting rejected this consistently... makes me wonder if I'm messing up somewhere."
"No, that's not it. They all seem like good people. But still..."
In truth, picking any of them probably wouldn't cause any major issues. It was just that, from my position, there was one ridiculously trivial problem.
"Honestly, I half-expected it. People who set loose conditions tend to pass on a lot."
"Ah."
Come to think of it, all the time she spent with me was work for her too. She'd want me to buy a good slave quick and get out.
"Sorry."
"No need to apologize at all! People often don't even know what they really want."
"What they really want..."
"Someone who doesn't want breasts smaller than a C-cup only realizes their taste when an A-cup girl and a D-cup girl alternate in front of them. It's not weird, so don't beat yourself up."
I didn't know how much sincerity was in her words, but they sounded pretty reasonable.
"Still, we need to match faster to make it easier for both you and the aspiring slaves, right? So, what do you think was the biggest issue with the ones we rejected?"
"Well, I couldn't really find any problems..."
"Then, why did you hesitate to buy?"
I'd met quite a few women, and they were all perfect. With visuals that good, they should've been idols, actresses, or models instead of doing slave work. Finding flaws in them was hard, but figuring out why I hadn't bought any was easy.
"They're expensive."
"Aha..."
"No matter how pretty, dropping 2 billion on someone I just met today... feels off."
She shook her head leisurely.
"Actually, they're not that expensive. Sure, not cheap, but supply follows demand."
"Buy this?"
"Well, it was similar even before the law. Lots of talk about sponsors and such."
The staff chuckled.
"Women at this level are a step above that. They're virgins, untouched by other hands."
"Hmm..."
"Old standards, but women who'd been with lots of guys could get a few hundred million just on looks, plus demand insane living expenses."
The staff smiled.
"Those types get bought by guys who can drop that kind of cash on women."
But no matter how I tried to rationalize it, that price tag was hard to swallow.
"Honestly, with looks and age like that, you could enjoy them for quite a while. Might be iffy if you get bored easy or go for quantity..."
She tapped her tablet, seriously pondering my tastes.
"With assets like yours, I figured we'd need top-tier premium stock with a markup."
"No, even so... is that price right?"
"Yes. Looks like that, virgin, great mindset. Probably raised from young thinking, 'I'm gonna be a sex slave.'"
I hadn't known that. My face twisted in dismay.
"That's possible?"
"Of course, can't sell minors or give excessive sex ed. That gets crammed in the 1-4 years after turning adult. But mindset? That you can instill."
"..."
I'd thought their personalities were cookie-cutter, but I hadn't realized it was literal.
"They all went to the same academies, and those girls have killer mindsets. Haven't heard of any in that price range causing trouble. Owners rate them highly."
"That price... what's the benefit for them?"
"Ah, retirement payout. Sex slaves retire past 40, right?"
Fragmented knowledge started piecing together with her words. I'd known bits, but never connected them. No reason to.
"Young or prime-age women decide early, 'I'm doing sex slave,' and prep for it."
"Hmm..."
"Rich guy treats 'em like girlfriends, they get gifts, and 40 isn't that old."
Sex slaves gain freedom at 40. No one's will can interfere. No matter what, they revert to full humans then. Makes sense. The system's for birthrates. At 40, feminine appeal and birthing stability drop. Nation wants them back in the workforce, spending big on their own.
"Plus, with mutual agreement, they can leave 5 years after becoming slaves, age irrelevant."
"So... it's like a job?"
"Not mostly. Some from illegal prostitution, crimes, dead ends, family cash needs... or just to sell their bodies."
The staff rattled off stories casually. Routine for her.
"Sounds heavy, huh. Anyway, need to nail down what you want. Surveys don't capture everything."
"Hmm..."
"Onahole, girlfriend, pseudo-wife. Which?"
I got it. Onahole means using a slave purely as a sex toy. Girlfriend means some emotional exchange.
"Pseudo-wife?"
"Some use it that way. Like a marriage agency."
"Ah..."
"Think of it as couple's assets, not yours alone. Billions or tens of billions? Just money circulating between you two."
Made a bit of sense.
"Full control in the relationship. Sex slaves get heavy legal penalties for anyone but owner, fights end with owner winning."
I had to sort my dizzy head in this unknown world.
"Usually, you figure it naturally, or pick from the ones I sent—won't fail either way."
"Hmm..."
"For onahole, she'll offer holes casually. Girlfriend or pseudo-wife? Wholehearted love for master."
"Really?"
"Whether real feelings? Who knows. But fake or not, owner won't notice. No betrayal... so real or fake, what's the diff?"
She shrugged.
I pondered carefully.
"Average market price?"
"They name their price. Drop eyes a notch or loosen a condition or two? Price plummets."
"Hmm..."
"So, aspiring master? What's your goal buying a slave? Even if lewd, vulgar, materialistic—tell me. Easier for both."
That I could answer. No need to agonize.
"To avoid the singleton tax."
"Pardon?"
The staff's face filled with shock.