Chapter 15: Teacher Go’s Pro Tips
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 15: Teacher Go’s Pro Tips
“Where did you hide the item? And where did the little one go?”
In the dungeons of Delphine.
Myra, self-appointed as interrogator, was questioning Karami.
A priestess of the Church held a social standing comparable to, if not greater than, most nobles.
The Knight Order, not wanting to raise their voices against someone like her and ignorant of the full situation, had comfortably delegated all authority to her.
“Well, I think I dropped it on the way here. You were chasing me so fiercely, I couldn't think straight.”
“And you expect me to believe that?”
“If you'd hit me, my limbs would have been torn apart. How could I not be scared?”
“Stop exaggerating.”
Exaggerating, my ass. The woman brought a storm with her!
Anyway, you shouldn't try to understand the minds of monsters. It'll only give you a headache.
With that thought, Karami slumped bonelessly in his chair. He sighed, lamenting his life.
“Haaah, and that was something incredibly important to me, too.”
Karami put on the performance of a lifetime. The look on his face was as bitter as an emperor who had lost his world, so much so that even Myra was almost fooled.
“What in the world was it?”
“A book. The Goblin Shaman was carrying it.”
“A Goblin Shaman's Grimoire, then. Some of them carry things like that.”
It was the kind of item that was both rare and common, in its own way.
“But it's not valuable enough to risk your life for, is it?”
A lich, maybe, but a goblin? At best, it's just a goblin. How good could anything a goblin owned possibly be?
They're written in a language that's hard to decipher, and even if you go through the trouble of translating one, the contents are usually useless. You'd be lucky to get a single silver for it.
To Myra, Karami seemed like someone who strictly calculated profit and loss. She couldn't understand why he would antagonize the Church over a piece of junk.
“You'll have to take that up with the one who made it.”
“The one who made it? The Goblin King? That's not a person.”
“Close enough.”
Whether it's a game developer or a Goblin King. Same difference.
Myra couldn't help but let out a hollow laugh at Karami's shameless attitude.
“Anyway, you're awfully calm. Usually, when people end up in here, they all beg for forgiveness.”
“People with something to hide tend to do that.”
“You're saying that with your own mouth? The Slave Reaper, Karami.”
“And how did you find that out?”
No matter how notorious he was, not everyone in the world would know a mere slave trader. He might be recognized in places where the slave trade was active, but in a rural town like this, even if he introduced himself as the Slave Reaper, the only response he'd get would be, "The what now, you freak?"
Myra shrugged as if it were no big deal.
“I did a little digging. I heard you did something quite spectacular back in Riveria. Got into a fight with the head of the Mage's Association, did you?”
“The Association Head there was a person just like you. Someone who judges complete strangers through their own narrow worldview and acts without considering the consequences.”
“I already said I was sorry, didn't I? That's why I'm talking to you now. And why I'm letting it slide even though you're playing dumb. If it were anyone else, they'd have a few broken fingers by now.”
“How gracious of you.”
Oh, so gracious. Broken fingers, my foot. Seeing that monstrous strength from earlier, a single flick to the forehead would make my head explode like a watermelon.
As this tensionless interrogation continued, Myra, as if losing her energy, slumped over the table.
“So, are you really not going to tell me what you're plotting?”
“Actually, I gave the grimoire to my slave.”
“I knew it. But is it really that special? Special enough to entrust to a slave and get caught in her place?”
“It's nothing much. Just a grimoire related to souls.”
How does he know that? Is this the information network of a slave trader? Talking with Karami just gives birth to one question after another.
“You're being more cooperative than I expected.”
“My role is to buy time until the child learns the magic in the book. Once she's done, I'll return the grimoire to you.”
“And when is that supposed to be?”
“She's a talented child. A few days should be enough.”
Karami's words were woven with solid trust. He sounded less like he was talking about a slave and more like a doting father talking about a cherished daughter.
“It seems you treat her quite preciously. So why do you kill slaves? Is that some kind of fetish?”
“I don't kill them. I set them free. It's more of a hobby than a fetish, to be precise.”
“You garbage pervert.”
“...”
Tired of even trying to explain himself, Karami stopped responding. He had realized long ago that they wouldn't believe him no matter what he said.
He turned his head and stared blankly out through the iron bars.
He worried about the girl, who was all alone now.
'She's doing well, right?'
He had no choice but to believe she was.
*
A world where even the moonlight was hidden by clouds.
The room, devoid of a single speck of light, was pitch-black.
Just like someone's innermost heart.
Mirabelle could use magic, let alone light a candle, but the thought of creating light never crossed her mind. She simply sat there, her face buried in her knees.
How much time had passed since she entered this room?
She couldn't tell.
Solitude has a way of blurring the passage of time.
Mirabelle was used to solitude.
She had been alone in the cart that took her to be sold as a slave. She had been alone in the iron cage where she was kept before the auction.
From the moment she was abandoned, she had always been alone.
In that cage, in a stretch of time that felt like an eternity, Mirabelle had vowed to never trust anyone again. After all, she had been betrayed not by a stranger, but by her own flesh and blood.
And yet, she could never get accustomed to the solitude. Being used to something and adapting to it were two different things.
Even if the one she longed for was a slave trader.
A slave trader.
The Slave Reaper, Karami.
Karami was a peculiar person.
From their very first meeting, he had called her by the name she had declared she would abandon, burrowing into her heart in an instant. His eccentricity had won her over before she even knew what was happening.
As if that weren't enough, a master getting thrown in prison for his slave. The very thought made her want to laugh.
But the biggest reason Mirabelle felt such goodwill toward Karami was the soul shackles. As long as they were bound by them, she wasn't alone.
He had said he wouldn't abandon her if she proved her worth. That meant if she just did well, she could be with him forever. She wouldn't have to be abandoned again.
Even if it meant death. Colton had said as much.
What was her master doing right now?
He must have been captured by that evil priestess and be undergoing horrible torture.
Unable to eat properly.
Unable to sleep properly.
She had to save him as soon as possible.
Only then would her own liberation come.
Mirabelle opened the grimoire. It was filled with unrecognizable words. But for some reason, she could understand its contents just by looking at it.
It was as if knowledge were flowing directly into her mind.
Within those fragments of knowledge, Mirabelle could grasp Karami's intentions. He had surely told her to learn the magic written here and then come find him.
Divine Punishment.
That was Karami's will.
It was a command to bring down divine punishment on all who interfered with his noble plan of liberation.
Karami was what you would call a hardcore veteran.
So much so that he would unconsciously confuse reality and the game. He'd even occasionally have thoughts like, 'If I raise a dog and take it for walks, isn't that kind of like leading a slave around?'
Thanks to playing the game, he knew a lot of information.
And because he had played the game, he missed a lot of information.
Even though he was aware that many things had changed now that the game had become reality, it was impossible for him to know everything.
The same was true for items dropped by monsters.
For example, while the grimoire dropped by a Goblin Shaman had a 100% chance of being a `[Soul Grimoire]` in the game, now it could just as well be `[☆ 57 Pro Tips for Invoking Teacher Go’s Soul: Divine Punishment Edition]`.
Sometimes, things you take for granted turn out not to be so certain.
Mirabelle, unaware of the full situation, simply began to learn the magic at a transcendent speed in order to faithfully carry out Karami's command.
*
How many days had it been since I came to this prison?
Not that long.
The sun had risen twice and set three times, and I'd been served eight meals, so three days had passed.
The treatment in prison was better than I expected.
When I was first transmigrated and worked at the inn, I slept on a pile of straw in the stables. Here, even if it was cheap, I was sleeping in a bed.
Where in the world could you find a prisoner this comfortable?
It was all thanks to Myra looking out for me. She was still bothered by what happened at the tavern. Like the faithful believer she was, she was determined to repay her debt in full.
It wasn't a bad deal for me, so I didn't refuse. I'm a man who doesn't know the meaning of the word 'no'.
She even said she'd let me out soon, thanks to my special way with words.
Of course, she said she'd have to check the grimoire, but at this point, I didn't care if she took it. I'd bought enough time. Mirabelle must have at least learned how to communicate with souls by now.
She's such a brilliant kid, after all.
Who knows?
'Maybe she's mastered the entire grimoire.'
The journey with Mirabelle is slowly coming to an end. Parting is a shame, but I still have a long way to go. I don't have the luxury of hesitating.
'Wasn't the next main story slave an elf?'
I won't have to hear people asking, "You bought an elf slave? Are you out of your mind?"
Because she's a bottom-tier character, even for an elf.
I should start planning in advance. That way, things will go as smoothly as they did this time.
That's what I thought, once upon a time.
The trouble began after an earthquake of unknown origin struck.
At first, I thought it was just Myra making a racket as she came down to the dungeon again.
And Myra did come down. But even with her standing right in front of me, the shaking didn't stop.
Then what is this? A real earthquake?
Just as I was thinking that, Myra, her face pale, spoke in a flurry.
“That little one... she wasn't just an ordinary mage, was she?”
“She is. Why do you ask?”
“She's causing all hell to break loose outside!”
Did Mirabelle's cuteness overflow and finally explode?
I wish that had been the case.
When I went outside with Myra, I saw thunder and lightning striking from a clear blue sky, and at the center of it all was Mirabelle.
Mirabelle, who bloomed into a wide smile upon seeing me.
“I've come to save you, Master.”
As she spoke, I saw that Mirabelle's status had changed.
["Mirabelle, the Abandoned Witch"]
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["Hand of the Death God: Mirabelle, the Witch of Judgment"]