Chapter 47
Chapter 47
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 47
Chapter Title: There Is No War for Slaves
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"A document has arrived from the Empire."
"From the Empire?"
The Empire, at a time like this.
Lately, I'd been poking at their sides quite a bit.
So for a moment, my body flinched,
but the document from the Empire was surprisingly very mild... no, it even seemed like something that could benefit us.
"They want to sell war prisoners."
"War prisoners?"
"Yes."
War prisoner sales.
In other words, slave trading.
Since we're running a slave dispatch business across the entire Empire, they're asking us to buy some slaves from them.
From our perspective, there was nothing bad about it.
Due to the school operations, the number of slaves we could dispatch immediately had decreased, so we needed more slaves anyway.
So it was a proposal with no downsides, but...
It felt a bit sudden.
"...To begin with, wasn't that contract already monopolized by the Parkinson House?"
Parkinson House.
The 'merchant house' that supplies slaves to House Riddle.
A sort of slave wholesaler.
If we wanted to buy war prisoners as slaves,
we had to go through the Parkinson House as intermediaries first.
But now,
they were saying they'd eliminate that intermediate distribution step and go straight to a direct contract.
"The Parkinson House is essentially close to a royal patronage merchant guild if you look at its history. If the royals decide it, they won't object."
"Hmm."
"As a house dependent on national projects, their position is very different from ours. They value not losing royal favor more than the business itself."
"Is that so?"
Well, they're the ones who make money from auction fees and currency exchange fees by monopolizing the official auction house called the comprehensive exchange.
There's no reason for them to cling to the slave business, which isn't even that profitable.
"We also have the pretext that we reported traitors. It's like handing over the business as a reward, so the Parkinson House's reputation won't suffer."
"So, what does the Empire gain from this?"
"The military can sell slaves at high prices. Even if they raise the price higher than what they gave to the Parkinson House before, from our side, with no middleman, there's no reason to refuse."
"......"
For a means to secure war funds,
it's too sudden and crude.
In other words, it means the Empire's war deficits are that severe.
And.
I knew the reason.
"With the Demon King's revival drawing near, it seems the Empire is feeling the pinch too."
"That must be it."
The Empire currently has no leeway.
This was pretty good news for me.
"Not bad......"
When you're desperate, your vision narrows.
There's no easier mark to fleece than a gambler who borrows to pay back.
While the Empire thrashes about to maintain its hegemony,
I keep shoving the powder keg of 'the contradictions of slavery' into every corner of the Empire.
So that one day, when the Empire comes to its senses,
it has no choice but to choose the extreme medicine of abolishing slavery.
"Torsso."
"Yes."
"Don't haggle over the price. Tell them we'll buy everything at the price set by the royals. They won't demand something outrageous anyway."
"Understood."
.
.
.
There are various ways slaves are 'produced'.
The most common is when children are born to slave parents, but since it's not creating something from nothing, it's not that efficient in terms of 'production'.
To begin with, in an era like this, if a slave gives birth, there's a high chance either the mother or the child dies.
Raising and caring for young slaves is quite costly too,
so from the owner's perspective, it's problematic in many ways.
That's why there are plenty of owners who completely prevent slaves from getting pregnant.
Slaves aren't like Joseon's nobi, who were somewhat included in 'Confucian respect for human rights' and lived by farming under contracts. Nor are they like the serfs of Western Europe who simply farmed.
They are literally goods that are endlessly produced and supplied to the market.
It's much cheaper to just buy a few more cheap slaves than to nurture them for years or even close to a decade hoping for asset growth.
And.
One of the most representative ways the Empire 'supplies slaves to the market' was
war prisoners.
Since the Empire was a nation that maintained its hegemony through war.
"This is the warehouse where the Empire is storing war prisoners."
"Oh."
"There are more than I expected. The Empire has decided to delegate the management of this entire warehouse to us, so until we build additional slave quarters, we can just use this place as is."
Capturing and maintaining prisoners long-term incurs massive costs,
but selling them to merchant houses actually makes money.
Of course, most war prisoners had many 'defects' because they'd rolled around on battlefields. They were fierce and rebellious, or disabled, or not in their right minds due to war trauma. The Empire wasn't the type to teach war ethics either.
The only advantage of war slaves is that you can buy them cheap in bulk.
Naturally, the warehouses storing those 'cheap slaves' weren't in good condition either.
Even before opening the door,
a horrific stench pierced my nose.
Corpse smell. Blood smell. The smell of rotten eggs.
The moment the door opened,
I couldn't withstand the heat of that smell and staggered back.
I learned for the first time then
that smells could burn you.
"......Torsso."
"Yes."
"Wait a bit... I need to catch my breath."
"Mm. The stench is severe. Understood."
I thought I'd grown accustomed to how slaves were treated.
So, I was mistaken.
I forgot that the slaves I'd bought were 'merchandise prepared for sale'.
"......"
These aren't even 'merchandise' yet.
If anything, they're 'raw materials'.
Some are rotten, some diseased, some broken, some just too ugly to have market value.
No quality control at all.
To begin with, there were many slaves already close to corpses.
It was brutal.
The scene in that warehouse was more brutal than any hell I'd imagined.
Even expressing it in words,
even recalling it again, my brain refused.
My brain went blank white, and I couldn't even remember what I'd seen.
I just felt my insides twist.
"......Torsso."
"......"
"I... I hate this world so much......"
At that moment, I recalled the war prisoner slaves I'd 'owned'.
'Ivan, Hans, James, Gordon, Derek......'
The ones whose names I recalled were all slaves listed in the 'loss ledger'.
Right. They're dead.
As I looked at the living, what came to mind were the slaves already dead.
'......Fuck.'
Some slaves died because they couldn't survive the winter.
Or maybe because they couldn't bear the longing for the battlefield.
The Talant they should have used to survive the winter,
they spent on erecting tombstones for comrades who met eternal winter on the cold battlefield, and that's how he died.
Instead of fighting the winter,
he spent Talant to console those who died in winter.
He was closer to a restless spirit than a vengeful ghost.
'What a shitty world.'
And it wasn't just that slave.
War prisoner slaves fundamentally died more easily than other slaves.
Some slaves spent all their Talant helping other dying slaves.
Some went to the library every week to read war poems.
Some...... on that day fighting the vault keeper thugs, stepped forward first and took fatal wounds, dying.
They were souls that were broken.
If their owner had been someone other than me,
and thus hadn't granted them freedom of consumption,
just rationed fixed meals enough to keep them from dying,
and whipped their souls thoroughly to prevent any other thoughts.
They wouldn't have died.
They would have obeyed orders like proper 'soldiers', killed their own souls, and worked as tools.
Their souls would die, but their bodies would survive.
No matter how harsh slave life is, it's not harsher than a soldier captured and sold as a prisoner in this era.
On the contrary, they might have adapted to and endured a new life more easily than other slaves.
But.
I granted them minimal freedom.
That was poison.
For most slaves, it was medicine to revive their souls, but for already broken souls, the moment they gained freedom, they rampaged and killed their own bodies too.
'Damn slavery......'
Sacrificing one's life for something is called martyrdom.
Sacrificing for religion is martyrdom, for country is patriotic death, for duty is death in the line of duty,
and the survivors respect and praise their devotion.
But slave deaths don't get such noble words.
It's merely an act infringing on the owner's property rights.
It's all crime.
It's blasphemy.
No.
Even these words are too human.
It is,
simply property loss.
'Why did I get isekai'd into this shitty world and have to go through all this......'
That's why I'm a sinner to them.
That their deaths aren't respected is entirely my responsibility as their owner.
Since all their rights are mine,
no matter how much I try to prove I'm different from 'Karl Riddle',
the sins I bear just pile up bit by bit.
This is the original sin of slavery.
The reason a system where people own people is fundamentally 'evil'.
'I wish this damn world would just perish......'
I want to die. I feel like dying.
I'm disillusioned with life.
But, even so, since I'm someone who prioritizes survival above all,
even feeling this miserable, I still had that pathetic will to somehow survive.
I stuck my fingers down my throat.
I vomited.
Once I spewed out everything in my hands,
I felt a bit better.
"Your Excellency."
"......It's fine."
"......Yes."
"Let's go in. Torsso."
I took off my vomit-stained gloves.