Chapter 316: Slave Experience (9)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 316: Slave Experience (9)
“You. Go to Evan’s mansion.”
For the first time in a while, Alberic gave Rami an order.
“Are you referring to the youngest young master? What for?”
“Mother requested it. I heard that kid Evan is wailing his head off, saying it has to be you.”
Alberic, Claude, Violetta, and now Evan. He was practically making the rounds with all the Laurentius siblings.
As Rami was getting ready to leave, Alberic offered some puzzling advice.
“If that kid tries any funny business, don't worry about anything else and just get out. He’s got a particularly strange side to him.”
You’re one to talk, the thought crossed his mind, but he didn’t say it out loud.
Rami headed for Evan’s mansion.
Evan, who was famous for never budging from his room, came out to greet Rami with a huge, gummy smile.
“Welcome! I’ve been waiting for you!”
“My name is Rami, Youngest Young Master. I will be in your care today.”
“I’m counting on you, too! Hurry, come in! Let’s play!”
Evan grabbed Rami’s hand and ran toward the mansion.
Rami’s role for the day was to be Evan’s nanny. All he had to do was play with him and take care of him.
But contrary to the simple description, taking care of a child is always the hardest job.
Especially the beloved youngest child of the family.
If he made a mistake, the Duchess would chew him out.
He had to be more meticulous and pay special attention.
Was that why? The servants in Evan’s mansion looked gloomier than those in the other mansions.
No, it wasn’t just that they looked gloomy; it was as if they were drained of life. As if their minds were elsewhere.
Their eyes were all glazed over. At least, that’s how it looked to Rami.
The place Evan led Rami to was a room that looked like an occult club’s headquarters.
It was a dark room without a single ray of light, with only a few candles flickering in place of sunlight.
There was junk with no discernible purpose, thick tomes reminiscent of law books, a skull hanging on the wall, and even a giant scythe.
It was overflowing with occult objects, a perfect reflection of its owner.
“Sit wherever you’re comfortable!”
He said to sit, but the room was so cluttered with things there was barely any space to set foot.
Not wanting to touch anything, he roughly pushed some things aside with his foot and awkwardly sat on the floor.
“Huh?”
“What is it?”
“Kikik, why are you sitting like a man when you’re a woman?”
“Ah.”
He’d sat cross-legged without thinking. He was trying to be mindful, but ingrained habits were a scary thing.
He corrected his posture, kneeling demurely.
“What is this room for? There are a lot of very unfamiliar objects here.”
“This is my magic laboratory.”
“Magic?”
“The House of Duke Laurentius is the greatest family of mages on the continent. Didn’t you know? We even had an ancestor who was an elder of the Magic Tower.”
Some time had passed since he started living in the duchy, but Rami hadn’t noticed at all.
He’d occasionally seen them training with magic, but he’d never seen them use it in their daily lives. He just thought it was a family that happened to have some mages.
The reason Rami thought this way was a difference in perception.
Generally, mages were considered crucial combat personnel in the modern era.
It takes time and money for people to learn anything. They learn magic for combat, not practical life magic, aside from the very basics.
Because it’s a waste of time. For a mage to achieve maximum efficiency with limited resources, they must learn combat-related magic.
But in the Merchants of Death, magic was utilized for all sorts of things.
Because the merchant group had Mirabelle. Having mastered all magic with her transcendent learning speed, she could modify and apply magic to fit any situation.
She was on a completely different level from ordinary mages.
Having such a witch by his side, his perception was bound to get skewed.
Anyway, now that Evan said he was a mage, this messy room made sense.
Mages or witches, those who walk the path of magic are always lacking some important human element.
“Why did you invite me to your laboratory, Young Master?”
“Because there’s a spell I really want to show you.”
“A spell?”
“Do you know of the Slave Reaper?”
“The Slave Reaper…?”
Why is that name coming up here?
More importantly, what’s with the honorific?
“I know of him. But why do you ask?”
“I… I admire the Slave Reaper. The one who brings liberation to this meaningless, dry, and worthless world! He is a being truly worthy of being praised as a god.”
“Um…”
“I’m honing my magic because I want to be like him.”
“Honing it for what?”
“You’re dumber than I thought. What else would it be? It’s magic to peacefully liberate slaves.”
Evan grabbed a staff that was lying carelessly on the desk. As he cast a spell, chains shot out from thin air and bound Rami’s limbs.
“To give a slave rest, the first thing you must do is free their soul. In other words, separate it from the flesh.”
A child’s values can change drastically depending on what they’re exposed to at a young age.
In Evan’s case, it was the Slave Reaper. Ever since learning about him, Evan had been researching “how to liberate slaves.”
“But if you just recklessly end a life, it can damage the soul. You can’t give them a peaceful rest. So the method I came up with is to drain their life force. Very slowly. So slowly that even the soul doesn’t notice.”
Something clicked for Rami.
So that’s why the servants’ complexions were like that.
He’d thought something was off about their condition. They were all having their life force slowly siphoned off by Evan.
They were slowly dying without even realizing it.
“How is that any different from dying?”
Rami’s direct question made Evan’s expression turn cold.
“Comparing liberation to the biology of a lowly creature. You still don’t seem to understand what liberation is. Liberation is a dimension above death.”
“Is that so?”
“You don’t seem to get it, but don’t worry. I’ll give you the special gift of liberation’s joy.”
“If it’s so great, you should try it on yourself first…”
“If I were liberated, I couldn’t do it for the other slaves. You really are slow. It’s fine, you’ll be liberated from that foolish intellect of yours, too.”
Evan began to swiftly draw a magic circle around Rami.
Rami sighed.
This gloomy little brat. I knew it the moment I saw him.
Physiognomy for the win, once again.
A kid who would’ve been playing with ouija boards if he were born on Earth becomes a black mage when he’s born in a world like this.
But I’m the cause of this?
This is so fucking unfair.
It wasn’t enough that they painted me, someone who cares for slaves more than anyone, as a serial killer, but now they’re admiring and imitating me on their own damn terms.
It’s not even imitation. I’ve never killed a slave.
Evan was the one misinterpreting things, not Rami.
What are his parents even doing?
No, there was a high chance his parents knew what their son was doing and were just letting it happen.
Given how they treat slaves like toys to be handed to their children, they probably think killing a servant is just another game.
What a wonderfully functional family.
“Phew, all done.”
In that time, Evan had completed the magic circle. He gripped his staff again and prepared to cast the spell.
“You’ll just feel a little drained, it won’t hurt. Just close your eyes for a moment and it’ll be over, so don’t worry. Everything that happens here will be hazy, like a dream.”
I’m not reassured at all.
But as if he couldn’t care less about Rami’s feelings, Evan cast the spell. An ominous violet light rose from the magic circle and enveloped Rami.
“Um, Youngest Young Master? I don’t know how you’ll take this, but perhaps you should stop the spell now? I’m concerned for your well-being.”
“Shut up. I need to concentrate. If I make a mistake, your life will be in danger.”
You’re the one threatening my life.
Well, Rami had done all he could.
The ill-mannered brat.
If you’re going to blame someone, blame your parents for not raising you right.
The violet light erupting from the magic circle illuminated the dark room, and just as the spell was about to be cast—
FWOOM!
“Aargh!”
An explosion erupted with Rami at its center.
Evan and the junk were sent flying in all directions. The shackles binding Rami shattered helplessly.
Dust scattered like fine powder, a testament to how long it had been since the room was cleaned. Rami closed his eyes, coughing and fanning the air with his hand.
“I told you, didn’t I? That you should stop while you could.”
He may have been sold as a slave and become a maid, but Rami was well aware that his experience lacked a certain reality.
In a world where a healthy man could be killed in the blink of an eye just for walking around in broad daylight, there was no way a beautiful, female slave could live safely.
Mirabelle, who would never tolerate her master getting hurt, had to be watching from somewhere with her magic.
She would stick to the role of an observer as much as possible, but if Rami’s life was in danger, she would intervene without hesitation.
It was obvious just from how the subjugation magic had bounced off him at the slave market.
She wanted her master to have the slave experience, but she didn’t want him to actually become someone’s slave.
She’s so cute, honestly.
Still, thanks to her, he’d overcome the danger. The only thing left was figuring out how to handle the aftermath.
“What was that explosion! Young Master! Are you all right?”
Servants and soldiers burst in.
A room with only two people.
The collapsed Evan and the perfectly fine Rami.
So much for getting through this quietly.