Mandatory Cohabitation
"Hold on. You're saying the regulations require this?"
"Yes. I'm sorry... It's stipulated by law."
The staff member didn't seem like she had anything to apologize for, but she kept bowing her head repeatedly.
"Married couples are fine, but sex slaves only qualify for the singleton tax exemption if they're 'cohabiting with the opposite sex.'"
"Hmm..."
It wasn't a welcome policy, but considering this law was created to boost birthrates, it wasn't all that strange.
"Isn't there any way around it?"
"To be honest, even if you secretly put her up somewhere else, it's unlikely you'd get caught unless you're really unlucky. As long as you list her as residing with you on paper, no investigation will come knocking."
"Hm..."
"That's usually how it goes, but... your assets are quite substantial, sir. The National Tax Service might be keeping a closer eye on you."
"Ha..."
The stakes were different. For someone with just a few hundred million won in assets, dodging the singleton tax might only save them a few hundred thousand or a couple million. But I was on another level. If the NTS could successfully enforce singleton tax payment on me, it'd pour a massive sum into the national treasury.
Of course, my wealth isn't comparable to the national budget... Still, it was enough to fund a business or two without breaking a sweat. It wouldn't be surprising if they scrutinized my finances more rigorously out of greed.
"Guess I'll have to deal with it. Whatever."
I hated the inconvenience. Even if I bought a slave, I'd planned to get her a separate place and let her live independently. But it seemed like in this one area, I had no choice.
"When does the slave move in?"
"Just wait three days. She needs time for final goodbyes with close friends and family."
"Hmm..."
I might need to tidy up the house.
"Ugh..."
I didn't want to think about it. I just wanted to head home, play some games. Still, there was plenty to buy. Another human was coming to live in my place.
The house wasn't small. It had a master bedroom plus three more rooms—way too big for just me.
Bed, blankets, toothbrush... Listing it all out was a hassle. Maybe spend a bit more and find a 'new slave survival kit' seller. Or just hand her a card and tell her to buy what she needs.
"By the way... do you have different tastes? We have options in that category too—"
"What kind?"
"Like this!"
He showed photos of buff, muscular guys posing to show off their builds.
"No thanks."
I was impressed, but not interested.
"Too bad. If you buy more slaves, please call us again next time!"
"Sure."
Doubtful that'd happen.
One task down. Now I could finally rest. I let out a deep sigh and called a taxi. Time to go home.
"...You got sold?"
"Yeah, Mom. I did."
Arin forced a happy smile as she said her final goodbye to her mother.
Three days... That's too long.
For someone like Arin, who only had her parents and no friends, it felt eternal.
"Okay. You look fine? Healthy?"
"Dunno. Seemed around my age... Supposedly loaded."
"Really? Going to a rich family?"
"Not sure. I looked up the address—ordinary apartment."
Her mother sighed in relief.
"Still... better than some creepy old man. That was my worry."
"Eh, we'll see. Young guys can be weirder..."
"Don't skip meals. Even slaves can report abuse if you starve, you know?"
"I know, I know."
Most slaves were young, men or women. Society pulled from the already scarce 'productive population.' Abuse and humiliation were common, but killing was off-limits.
"If he lets you keep your phone, message regularly. Even if I can't see you, never forget Mom and Dad love you."
"...Got it."
They'd supported her for years without a job, without effort on her part.
They'd scared her with 'Keep slacking and you'll end up a sex slave!' but fiercely opposed when she actually chose to sell herself.
Even now. If not for the massive debts from their failed business, they'd never have let her go.
"I love you."
Hugging her mother, Arin suppressed her trembling emotions and closed her eyes.
She couldn't predict her new life. Some slaves said it was 'surprisingly okay,' but news was full of suicides, murders, starvations. Slaves who could post online had some freedoms—their stories were inevitably biased.
Who knew? He seemed decent, but 'goodness' thrives under constraints. People don't assault strangers on the street because of retaliation or arrest risks. Honest shoppers outnumber thieves because of punishment fears.
Her owner? For Arin, those constraints vanished. As long as he didn't kill her, anything went. Insults, irrational rules, beatings, rape. Like in brutal comics, he could impose anything.
"..."
But it was her choice. No refusing. No blaming him, no matter what. He'd paid the price.
Her laziness caused the money troubles. Having a pretty face to sell at a high price? That was luck.
"Don't worry. I'll be fine."
15 years. Not short. Even after, happiness seemed unlikely.
Still, she hoped her family could smile. If she remained a 'worry' to them till the end, tearing their hearts just by being remembered.
"Really, I'll be okay."
Till the last moment, Arin would be a burden to her family.
Mail arrived. Kim Arin's personal details, slave certificate, payment obligations to her, and her duties to me.
Prohibitions: No assigning labor outside permitted activities.
Slaves have no human rights. Owners hold absolute command authority. Contrary to government intent for procreation, some buy cheap slaves for manual labor like loading/unloading.
Legally barred. Slaves may perform light tasks in owner's business—interpreted as extensions of sex or housework. Or collaborative art/hobby products, mainly lewd videos for sale.
Strict permits required; impractical for most unless hyper-focused on economics.
Opposite-Sex Contact: Strictly forbidden without owner permission. Owner may demand immediate refund. Agency reclaims and exploits the slave for profit.
This binding force defines owner-slave relations. Unlike marriage (no criminal adultery penalties, minimal divorce losses), slave infidelity equals death.
If possible... it'd be horrific. Imagining hundreds of male slaves toiling endlessly in a logistics center under a female boss, no unions or resistance, I shook my head.
Her ID came too. Useless now. Just a symbol. Most sovereign rights as a human transferred to me. 'Kim Arin' could no longer use her resident registration card.
I stared at the plastic card that proved personhood days ago, now meaningless.
"..."
Even that gaze was pointless.