Chapter 10
Chapter 10
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 10
Chapter Title: Fake Slaves
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The tofu business was literally absorbing gold from nobles and priests,
but no matter how successfully one venture was running, it was impossible to neglect the others.
The second business, started based on knowledge from before his possession—
the slave dispatch service—had finally begun its pilot operation.
"There are a total of six applicants hoping to rent."
"Six? That's more than I expected. I thought two would be lucky."
"It seems since it's a business being pushed directly by the head of House Riddle, they want to get their name in early."
"Ah, I see."
It was still just the pilot stage, so there weren't many applicants.
They had only informed a few nobles known for not treating slaves harshly,
and in the first place, not many people were eager to apply for such a novel service.
That was just how new businesses worked.
The instant sell-out of tofu upon launch was the exception.
"One special note: Count Chase has requested ten slaves. It appears he's short on manpower for hay harvesting."
"Do we have enough slaves to send?"
"Yes. Based on the overseers' training logs, we've selected a list of suitable slaves for dispatch. Since it's Your Excellency's idea, I figured you'd want to review it personally, so I brought it along."
"Oh, good work. As expected from my yellow ox."
"What's a yellow ox?"
"Your hair is yellow."
"......"
"Let me take a look."
Torsso spread out the documents he had brought.
The papers listed the number of slaves each noble had requested for rental,
along with the purpose of the rental,
and the names of suitable slaves.
It was a bit rough, but legible enough.
After a quick scan, Karl crossed out one name with his fountain pen and wrote in a new one.
"Send Lemon along too."
"Lemon... You mean that female slave learning swordsmanship?"
"That's right."
Lemon.
The slave who would later become a companion to the original protagonist.
He planned to send her out as a dispatch slave.
There wasn't any particular reason.
Just to let her get some fresh air.
"Be careful not to damage the goods."
"......Yes."
Lemon was loaded onto the cart like baggage.
No.
She was loaded right alongside the actual baggage.
Because she was being transported via House Riddle's goods distribution network.
Why arrange a separate cart just for slave transport,
when they could save costs by squeezing her into a nearby delivery cart?
It was only natural,
but in that naturalness, Lemon suddenly felt the reality of being a slave.
'At least I'm inside... lucky me.'
On other carts, due to lack of space, one slave was tied to the roof, trembling and clutching it desperately.
In that regard, Lemon was fortunate.
Even if she felt like she might suffocate under piles of goods,
at least she wouldn't fall off the cart.
'Hay harvesting, right?'
Hay harvesting.
A simple task.
Winter wheat for hay was harvested before it grew too tall, so being small like Lemon was actually an advantage.
Female slaves like her had the drawback of lacking strength and stamina,
but thanks to consistent proper nutrition and training in the training grounds, Lemon was stronger than most male slaves.
That must be why she had been selected for dispatch.
'Hurry up and finish, get my talants, and rest......'
"You slaves from House Riddle will harvest this section. Gather the harvested hay in one place first, then bundle it for immediate transport."
"Understood."
"Let's see how much better the slaves from a great merchant house are."
"......"
'Slaves are slaves— what's the difference?'
Lemon felt a twinge of absurdity.
But she wasn't so naive as to let it show on her face.
She simply prepared to start work right away.
The faster she finished, the more talants she could earn.
"Oh! They start working immediately upon arrival without even a whip crack?! As expected of a great merchant house's slaves!"
"......?"
The reactions from the watching noble and overseer caught her attention a bit,
but she ignored them.
"They're dividing the section and moving systematically?! Is this possible with a slave's intelligence?!"
"Heavens! Dividing roles between slaves bundling and transporting hay and those harvesting it. Aren't slaves beasts incapable of cooperation?!"
"What? They're recording the number of bundled hay on the ground...? Slaves... can write...?"
'What the hell are these guys?'
Did they mistake slaves for scarecrows or some kind of animal?
"Those slaves— just ten of them— accomplished as much as twenty slaves from House Chase!"
"Ahh... This is the power of a great merchant house......"
And so, the nobles' and overseers' exclamations continued until the end of the day's work.
After the workday ended, in the slave dormitory of Count Chase's estate.
As she dissolved the overseer-issued black bread in water and ate it,
Lemon could guess why that noble had been so amazed.
'......They're like corpses.'
The slaves of Count Chase's house looked like corpses.
Their bodies were emaciated,
their skin covered in whip marks,
and above all, their eyes lacked any spark of life.
One might expect curiosity toward slaves from another house sharing a meal,
but they didn't even open their mouths—
no, they seemed like they didn't know how to speak at all,
just blankly staring into space while chewing the hard black bread.
Eerie.
They were clearly the same kind of people,
yet they didn't seem human at all.
Lemon suddenly recalled her earlier thought.
[Did they mistake slaves for scarecrows or some kind of animal?]
Exactly.
They were scarecrows who couldn't even wash bird droppings off their faces.
Beasts incapable of thought.
Not born that way,
but molded into it as slaves.
She had momentarily forgotten amid recent comforts.
Yes.
Slaves were such beings.
"......"
Perhaps slaves from wealthy houses could enjoy more than free folk born into poverty.
Poor free people starved as a matter of course,
but slaves were valuable property,
and anyone who understood the cost wouldn't let such assets starve to death.
Someone on the verge of dying from hunger
might willingly collar themselves
and sell the leash's handle to another just to fill their belly.
Yet slaves were still wretched.
A life where sleeping, breathing, even opening one's mouth required permission
might be more miserable than starving to death.
"......"
Some might call such "dignity" the delusion of the well-fed.
They might say surviving on slave feed was better than starving.
She wasn't sure.
Suddenly, Lemon felt her own status as a slave strangely distant and foreign.
Was she... really a slave?
"......Would you like some of this?"
"......"
Lemon offered some of her allotted bread
to a slave who had been shoving it into his mouth most frantically.
The hard black bread dissolved quickly in the slave's sticky, dry saliva.
Amazing.
It felt like all her common sense was crumbling.
"......"
Blankly,
she pulled out and ate some pre-purchased tofu chips from before arriving,
and thought.
Maybe she wasn't a slave after all.
"......"
What her master had granted with "talants" wasn't just tasty bread or meat stew.
It was freedom.
The freedom to reclaim her leash, even if just for a moment.
The freedom to choose what to eat, what not to eat,
when to eat, when not to.
Slaves couldn't even choose to starve.
Slaves were their master's property,
and a slave starving to death was the master's loss.
But Karl's slaves were different.
'We... were really lucky.'
We.
Lemon flinched at the word that suddenly came to mind.
She looked at the other slaves who had come with her.
The other slaves seemed to feel the same,
as her eyes met those of slaves eating tofu chips at other spots.
It wasn't mere coincidence.
'......'
It was the moment a strange bond formed among Karl's dispatched slaves.
After the dispatch ended,
seeing the dispatched slaves return with sharpened discipline,
Torsso shuddered at his master's ingenuity.
'I see. That was the goal.'
Karl had shown them.
This was the treatment you deserved all along.
Sleeping on cold floors,
chewing black bread,
living like beasts—eating, shitting, sleeping—
that was your fate as slaves.
The abundance you enjoy now
isn't because you worked hard,
but solely due to the mercy of your master, me.
He had made them realize that.
'They'll feel pride and relief in being his slaves rather than others', and that pride will turn into blind loyalty.'
Loyalty.
An emotion too noble and honorable for mere slaves.
Karl intended to make his slaves loyal.
'Without a comparison, they can only judge their situation against itself. Earning talants for tasty bread will gradually become a "natural right" in their minds. But with this dispatch business, Your Excellency shattered that illusion.'
It wasn't loyalty from mere kindness.
With a clear comparison,
they realize their position is maintained only by their master's mercy and generosity,
and come to expect that "merciful master" to rule them forever.
This was an exceedingly refined form of exploitation.
Beyond crushing souls into tools,
it subjugated souls while keeping them alive.
'If he can subjugate slaves' souls like that... the costs of slave management will plummet dramatically.'
Slaves will work more diligently to repay their master's grace,
grateful for his generosity and mercy,
and react hostilely toward any threat to their master or privileges.
'Long-term, it could go beyond reducing overseers—slaves could even monitor each other.'
Diabolical.
Truly a devilish plan.
Torsso felt horrific dread
and peak exhilaration.
'This... will definitely make money.'
Torsso was also a man of House Riddle, loyal to gold.
Suddenly, once more,
Torsso pledged his loyalty to Karl.