Chapter 90
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 90
Chapter Title: Espionage
-----------------------------------------------------------------
A criminal slave who was once the second-in-command of the Dragon Bandit Gang, and a goblin with the class of a [Petty Thief].
Kag thought back blankly.
How did things end up like this?
“Let me introduce you formally. This is Hunt of the Wild Bandit Gang.”
“I am Reiker, leader of the Dragon Bandit Gang.”
“I am Kag, former second-in-command of the Dragon Bandit Gang.”
“How could I not know the names of my two seniors?”
Yes.
The Wild Kobold who bought them.
Until he exchanged greetings with Hunt, the situation hadn't been bad. In fact, it was rather good.
“I have no intention of treating seniors in the industry like actual slaves, but…”
“Don’t worry. I’m not shameless enough to aim for the leader’s seat as a newcomer.”
“Besides, the ‘one above’ wouldn’t allow that, would he?”
“Kukuku, it’s great that you seniors are so easy to talk to.”
There was no way a fledgling bandit gang could afford to buy two high-class slaves.
The one who provided the funds, the patron noble, was the true master of the Wild Bandit Gang.
Hunt smirked as he watched the two state this so matter-of-factly.
The reason he treated them as seniors wasn't just because they were stronger Awakened Ones than him, but also because he expected them to be this reasonable.
Of course, the biggest reason was something else entirely.
“Then, as a show of faith, I’ll just remove the slave imprints.”
“No need. It’s not a proper imprint anyway.”
“No, you should still have the procedure done. It’s better to be sure about these things.”
Not just the cool-headed Reiker.
Even the timid and cautious Kag.
They weren't the least bit worried about the slave imprints.
A slave imprint was, after all, a passive curse that inflicted pain or death upon a slave through a designated medium.
It was a terrible curse, but that was only in the general sense; there were plenty of ways to remove or weaken a slave imprint.
The reason slave contracts had to be followed in meticulous detail was to ensure the imprint would function properly.
This was especially true for Awakened Ones, on whom the imprint’s effect was halved.
There was a good reason why high-class slaves were so expensive.
In that sense.
It was only natural that Reiker and Kag paid no mind to the slave imprints.
Removing one was no different from undoing a slightly complicated shackle.
“There’s no slave imprint?”
“It’s right here.”
“What kind of bullshit is this, calling some weird tattoo an imprint? Get the hell out of here!”
“No, this isn’t a tattoo…”
“Hmph, that’s why I said it wasn’t a proper imprint.”
How could a slave imprint freshly applied by that purple-twin-tailed girl, who looked like a slave herself, be the real deal?
When Reiker scoffed coolly, Kag readily agreed.
He thought everything would be fine up to that point.
…Yes.
It was from then on.
That was when Kag started to feel a sense of unease.
“Hey, junior. No, boss. I have something to tell you.”
“What is it?”
“Well… ghk, gack.”
“Gack?”
“…Keuk, cough! Cough, cough! I’ll… tell you later.”
“Hmm, let’s do that.”
Where had all his bravado gone, his declaration to defect and spill everything about the White-Masked Young Master as soon as the slave imprint was dealt with?
Kag was dumbfounded watching Reiker act as if he were feigning illness.
But Kag didn’t step in.
True to his life’s motto of living a long, if humble, life, he just assumed the boss had a plan and let it slide.
But that was only for the first day.
He could only let it slide for so long.
“Boss? We should probably tell them soon.”
“Ah, right. We should.”
After being introduced to the Wild Bandit Gang.
And there, meeting members from the Dragon Bandit Gang.
That is, his former subordinates, with whom he shared a hearty drink.
Even when the time was right.
Reiker didn’t move.
Kag still let it go.
He told himself it was just his imagination.
He knew better than anyone how cold-blooded Reiker was, as befitting a lizardman.
That was why he had been content to serve as his second-in-command.
But with each passing day.
Reiker grew stranger.
“So we, keuk.”
“The truth is, cough.”
“The White-Masked, kyach.”
“…Did you catch a lung disease from your time as a slave?”
When Hunt began to look at them with suspicion, as if he might have bought defective goods.
Kag, unable to bear it any longer, quietly spoke up.
“Boss? Tell the higher-ups, quickly. You know we’re in big trouble if someone else talks first, right?”
“Dammit! If I could talk, I would have done it already!”
“…What do you mean by that?”
“You’ll know when you try it yourself!”
Though puzzled by Reiker’s unusually sharp response, Kag decided to try it.
He would reveal the White-Masked Young Master’s scheme himself.
And…
“The White-Masked, keuk!”
Suddenly, the tattoo grew hot.
His throat constricted tightly.
His lungs felt blocked.
In agony, as if he were about to suffocate at any moment, Kag finally understood.
‘An automatic slave imprint, not a manual one? This is insane…!’
Why Reiker had been acting like an idiot, unable to string a few words together.
Only then did Kag realize, his eyes trembling.
He’d heard rumors that some families passed down special slave imprints, but that was for high nobles, the likes of the Baekdaesega.
He never imagined he would experience that dreadful rumor firsthand.
Even more so since the practitioner who could have removed the brand didn't even recognize it as one.
‘This makes betrayal impossible!’
Why had the White-Masked Young Master trusted them so easily and sent them as spies?
Realizing the truth too late, Kag was at a loss.
Meanwhile, Reiker, who had realized it earlier, had been struggling to find a way to circumvent the brand.
Having failed to find a suitable method, he finally resorted to a last-ditch effort.
“I can’t take this anymore!”
“Boss? What are you trying to do!?”
“What do you think? I’m going to cut off this damn brand!”
He would get rid of this brand, even if it meant cutting off his own tail.
Gritting his teeth, Reiker placed his tail on the table and raised a knife.
It was possible only because he was a lizardman; the brand was on his tail, and a tail, while it would take time, could regenerate.
However…
“Gyaaaarghhhkkk!!!”
The moment he forcefully brought the knife down on his tail, or more precisely, on the brand, it glowed with a murky light, and Reiker collapsed.
As if struck by lightning.
Or roasted by fire.
The lizardman convulsed, foaming at the mouth with a horrific scream.
The sight alone was so gruesome that Kag could only freeze in place.
Fortunately.
Or perhaps, unfortunately.
Reiker didn’t die.
He just passed out for nearly half a day before waking up.
But after that, Kag didn’t dare to even think of betrayal.
It wasn't just because he was afraid of suffering the same pain as Reiker.
It was because of the change that came after.
“The… Dogwi-ryeon. I have to find information on the Dogwi-ryeon and report it…”
“As per the contract with my master…”
“—I must prove my loyalty.”
A vacant expression.
Unfocused eyes.
A muttering voice.
Watching Reiker, who looked as if his soul had been drained or he had been broken somewhere deep inside, Kag trembled.
The fact that he could have ended up like that was utterly chilling.
Moreover…
‘…Did the boss end up like that because he tried to violate the contract? Or because he tried to tamper with the brand?’
If it was the former, what would happen if he failed to gather and report information on the Dogwi-ryeon?
The mere thought was terrifying.
And if it was the latter?
For a moment, he shivered, unable to even touch the brand on his forehead.
In the end, from that day on, Kag began to sneak around, desperately gathering information connected to the Dogwi-ryeon.
…while wearing the thickest helmet he could find.
***
“Hmm, everyone’s doing well.”
The Wild Bandit Gang.
The One-Horned Mounted Bandits.
The Black Dagger Gang.
The Black Market Watch, and so on.
As Dion looked over the data secretly sent in various ways by the high-class slaves sold off to different places, he smiled with satisfaction.
The cat-folk boy with bangs covering his eyes muttered with a dubious tone.
“…It’s actually working.”
“I told you it would.”
“That’s what’s so strange. What kind of magic did you use?”
“What magic? As you know, it’s all thanks to Shuttle.”
Dion chuckled at Naru, who couldn’t hide his curiosity.
“Do you know how the slave imprint came to be?”
“To manage slaves, of course?”
“That’s a common misconception. The slave imprint was originally a byproduct of a certain research project.”
“What kind of research?”
“Research to prevent the end of the world.”
“…???”
What kind of nonsense was this?
Dion kindly explained to the bewildered Naru.
“A long time ago, there was someone who tried to destroy the world with his power.”
“To nearly destroy the world alone, even with a special power… He must have been one hell of a madman.”
“But he was just as capable. In fact, during the era of the old kingdoms, dozens of nations were destroyed by that power.”
In the distant era of the old kingdoms.
Faced with the fear that the world might truly end, the various nations and races joined forces.
They formed an elite force of their strongest heroes and finally succeeded in defeating the king.
But they were afraid.
Afraid that the king might be resurrected, or that someone might inherit his power.
So they invested immense time and effort into researching a way to block that power, and in the end, they created an unexpected result.
That was the slave imprint.
A secret art that faintly mimicked the king’s power.
“And that king, who nearly destroyed the world, was called this by the people of that time.”
Even though the world was destroyed by the Labyrinth's overflow, the slave imprint was passed down due to its usefulness.
But its origin and the king himself were forgotten.
It was the result of everyone deliberately burying the legends of the king out of great fear and worry.
Of course, there were no rules without exceptions.
For example…
“—The King of the Dark Grotto.”
“Yes… Huh?”
…The king’s successor, who finally appeared after a long age, knew that name clearly.
After blinking at the sudden revelation for a moment.
Naru, belatedly grasping its meaning, spoke with a stunned voice.
“Wait a minute. Then are you saying that Shuttle’s… the Vault Keeper’s crest is the origin of the slave imprint?”
“Hmph, calling it an origin in comparison to such a crude scribble is a waste of words.”
The purple-twin-tailed girl kneeling at Dion’s feet, a chain with a lock around her neck.
Naru looked at the Vault Keeper with a skeptical expression.
No matter its flaws, the slave imprint was an outstanding secret art that had been passed down for over a thousand years.
It was hard to believe that the original was held by a girl like this.
“…So you’re saying those bandits are obediently following your orders because of that?”
“Yep. The power of the King of the Dark Grotto is on a completely different level from a mere slave imprint.”
“…”
“For example… Parsha.”
Slowly.
Dion turned his head.
He looked at the dark elf maid standing guard beside him.
Specifically, at the wolf crest engraved on her right arm, and smiled faintly.
“Bark.”
“…?!”
While Naru stood with a dumbfounded expression at the sudden command.
Parsha stared at Dion with a blank face.
But only for a moment.
As the wolf tattoo on her arm began to squirm, she finally opened her mouth.
“…Woof.”
“Yes, good girl.”
“…!!!”
Knowing full well Parsha’s personality, how she would mercilessly spew insults even at Dion.
Seeing the utterly obedient bark that came out, Naru froze.
Dion grinned.
“See, the power of the King of the Dark Grotto allows for absolute control over anyone branded with the mark.”
“…!”
“To be precise, it allows one to enforce a contract, but if you make a slave contract, it’s basically the same thing.”
A brand that inflicted pain worse than death if the contract was violated, and if one resisted to the very end, they would either die or become a mindless puppet.
This was the power of the King of the Dark Grotto.
To his kin, to his vassals, to his people.
The King of the Dark Grotto, betrayed his entire life, had channeled his resentment to create a power ensuring he would never be betrayed again.
Dion stated this calmly and shrugged.
“Well, I did use up most of the power Shuttle had charged up, though.”
“That’s why I told you to hurry up and get loyalty oaths from the fief’s residents to speed up the charging process!”
“Hey, still, branding kids who aren't even slaves is a bit too much, don’t you think?”
With a faint smile.
An innocent smile graced Dion’s lips as he added one more thing.
“The sin of betraying me lies with Parsha, not with her clan.”
“To brand your personal maid with such a mark and even threaten her with her clan as leverage, you’ve become a truly fine piece of trash… a noble even a scumbag would admire.”
“Hey, you flatter me. This is all thanks to you raising me so well, Parsha.”
“…”
“Most importantly, I couldn’t possibly torment Arsha’s clan.”
“…”
Perhaps unable to hold it in any longer.
After her one blunt remark, Parsha fell silent again.
Dion chuckled.
If The Voice were here, it would have nagged him not to provoke someone who had already sworn loyalty and waste his power.
But Dion would have teased Parsha anyway.
Out of resentment for her betrayal?
Of course not.
Even though he was sold into slavery and suffered all sorts of hardships because of Parsha’s betrayal in the first timeline.
Dion didn’t resent her for something like that, then or now.
It was just that he couldn’t resist teasing her; seeing Parsha, clearly uncomfortable yet unable to even insult him freely, just twitching her eyebrows, was too adorable.
It was a sight that became rare after her clan was annihilated, not just in the first timeline but in the second as well.
That’s why.
Dion spoke up playfully.
“On that note, Bluffer. Don’t you want to make a contract with me too?”
“Huh? Me?! Why?!?!”
“The Guild is in a cooperative relationship with me anyway, right? It would be more convenient if we could trust each other more.”
“Uh, um, well…”
He said trust.
But his intention to enslave her was transparent. After a moment of trembling before Dion's smiling face.
Naru suddenly seemed to remember something, grabbing his papers and jumping to his feet.
“…I-I’ll be going now to compile the information!!!”
As if he were fleeing…
No, as he literally scrambled out the door, Dion chuckled at his retreating back.
The Vault Keeper spoke up bluntly.
“Master, I’m saying this just in case.”
“I know it wouldn’t have worked on Bluffer anyway. Your charge is almost empty, Shuttle.”
“…Then why did you do it?”
The Vault Keeper blinked.
Her stored power had already been nearly depleted from testing Dion.
What little she had recharged was almost gone from branding the slave soldiers and then the criminal slaves.
She didn't have the capacity to brand a new vassal, especially an Awakened One like Naru.
So why did he make such an offer?
The boy’s answer to the girl’s question was simple.
“Well, if I had to say… because it’s fun?”
“…”
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“It’s nothing.”
“Hmm, Shuttle?”
Lamenting her own fate for having to serve such a boy as her master.
Seeing the Vault Keeper, whose inner thoughts were blatantly displayed in her eyes, Dion grinned.
“Obedience pose, execute.”
“…?!”
The moment the lock-shaped brand on her neck faintly glowed.
*Flop.*
She fell flat on her back.
Raising her lightly clenched fists.
The girl exposed her abdomen wide open, like a puppy showing affection to its master.
“Wh-what is this…”
On the smooth belly of the Vault Keeper, whose face turned bright red at the pose she herself had taken.
*Thud.* Dion placed his foot and nodded in satisfaction.
“As a footrest, you have the best texture, Shuttle.”
“Are you saying that as a compliment right now?!”
Perhaps there was still some resentment left from failing to steal his body and having to serve a new master.
After lightly disciplining his first disobedient vassal by pressing his foot into her abdomen.
And receiving a cold glare, as if looking at an insect, from his second vassal.
Dion grinned.
He was glad to have such entertaining vassals to torment.