Olivia's Problem
“Master. Would it be all right if I educated those two slaves?”
Olivia had volunteered for the very task I’d been about to assign her. I nodded.
“I was going to ask you anyway. They’re still inexperienced and clumsy. Teach them properly.”
Olivia bowed at the waist.
“Thank you, Master. Then I shall begin their education at once.”
Selena and Hana, catching exactly what kind of “clumsiness” I meant, reacted at once.
“I-I’ll study hard, Master…”
“Y-you need to learn first! No, more importantly—”
Selena’s voice, head bowed in determination, was cut off by Olivia, who had already turned to face the two of them.
“Silence. From this moment, we begin instruction on the proper mindset of a slave.”
Huh? Mindset?
I’d been looking forward to watching Olivia teach Selena and Hana sexual techniques so I could pick up a few tips myself. Her abrupt declaration left me tilting my head in confusion.
Selena and Hana looked just as baffled, staring at Olivia with identical expressions of disbelief.
Olivia paid our reactions no mind and continued.
“First, both of you must awaken to the fact that you are Master’s property—nothing more than tools whose value is assigned according to Master’s needs.”
Uh… well, slaves are technically that, but I don’t really see them that way…
I was dreaming of a slave harem, sure, but I’d never planned on treating them that extremely. Faced with Olivia’s textbook slave doctrine, I spoke up.
“No, I don’t go that far—”
Olivia turned those empty, emotionless eyes on me.
“Master. It is a blessing that a merciful Master such as yourself considers the feelings of his slaves. That, however, is a separate matter. Slaves must remain conscious of what they are.
“Furthermore, Master, you must deliver fitting punishment to insolent slaves who, like these two, ride the coattails of your boundless mercy, forget their station, and display not a shred of respect no matter how hard one looks.
“Only then can harm to Master’s dignity—and the collapse of order among the slaves—be prevented.”
Her voice carried no pitch, yet the firmness in it made me shrink a little. I muttered,
“P-punishment… well, I do torment them at night…”
Selena and Hana, who had been gaping at Olivia’s long speech, finally realized what kind of “punishment” I meant and flushed scarlet.
“Heavens… Ah. Forgive me. I was so startled I spoke out of turn. I will gladly accept any penalty for the slip.”
Olivia apologized for being startled in a tone that suggested she had not been startled in the slightest, then pressed on.
“But Master. That is not punishment—it is a reward, is it not?”
Selena, ears burning as memories of nights spent with me clearly surfaced, lowered her head. Hana, who had writhed in pain the night she lost her virginity, glared as if to say what the hell are you talking about.
I hadn’t exactly thought of overwhelming them all night with my ridiculous stamina as a “reward” either, so I laughed awkwardly.
“Th-that’s a reward?”
Olivia tilted her head once.
“Of course. To receive Master’s lust and give him pleasure—there is no greater reward for a slave.”
I kept probing.
“What if I’m too rough…?”
“It means Master felt desire so intense he could not restrain himself at the sight of a lowly slave. That is immense happiness for the slave.”
“What if I go on so long it exhausts them…?”
“It means Master found a lowly slave’s body pleasing enough to enjoy for an extended time. There is no greater praise.”
“Wh-what if I keep going until they pass out…?”
“Then the slave must give thanks that Master deigned to use such an inadequate vessel who could not even properly receive his lust, reflect on her failure to endure until Master was satisfied, and beg forgiveness.”
Olivia delivered every answer with Master at the absolute center, her expression never changing.
Behind her, Hana—who had been listening to the entire exchange—scribbled something across a memo pad on the table and held it up for me to see.
What the—? Hangul?
This one looks like a mental collapse. It’s the product of self-brainwashing—something the mind does to keep from shattering when pushed past its limit.
You see it in people who’ve suffered extreme abuse, unbearable pain, or horrors they refuse to accept. Factor in the faint demonic aura I can sense and her claim of two hundred years as a slave, and the picture is clear: she was captured by a demon, enslaved, and after enduring the abuse, broke this way.
She probably drilled it into herself that a slave is a being who finds joy and happiness in everything her master does to her—that every slave is like that, and that she herself is exactly such a slave.
Ah!
Only after reading the multi-page scrawl did I finally understand why Olivia’s large, beautiful eyes were so hollow and empty, why her full, pretty lips looked so dry and cracked.
I pictured her screaming and weeping as she lost the eternal virginity she had purchased with her lifespan over and over again… thrashing every time the chains yanked at the sensitive piercings… howling as parts of her body were mutilated and severed. Looking at her with pity, I asked,
“Can she recover?”
Not easily. If the condition were recent it would be better, but a brainwashing that’s lasted a good hundred years is basically a whole new personality by now.
“Any methods?”
They say you keep gently prodding the gap between reality and the brainwashing until she accepts reality on her own—but with old conditioning, that kind of stimulus often makes things worse. Layering a new brainwashing on top is another option, but that’s still brainwashing in the end.
No surefire method, huh… This is tough. I want to restore her to normal if I can… I know nothing about the mind, though… Maybe I should visit the temple…
After mulling over Hana’s suggested solutions, I decided—earlier than planned—to meet Kylie again.
“Got it. Stick with me for a while, then. I’m stepping out.”
Yeah. That elf’s a victim too, in the end.
Having traded words and written notes with Hana, I turned to Olivia, who was watching me with puzzled eyes after my string of context-free questions.
“Your points make sense. Work hard for a while. Just remember that at night you’ll still have to teach them something else in front of me.”
“Understood, Master. I will do my utmost to forge these two into proper slaves as swiftly as possible.”
Leaving Olivia’s reply behind, I stepped out of the room and spoke to the maid who, as always, stood guard beside the door.
“I’d like to visit the temple.”
“I shall prepare a carriage and coachman. This way, please.”
Following the maid’s lead, I found the same coachman who had ferried us home after our massive shopping spree waiting in the driver’s seat. He greeted me with a smile.
“Traveling alone today, sir?”
“Yeah. The girls have some things to take care of.”
I offered a vague excuse, climbed into the carriage, and once I was settled the coachman set us rolling.
The well-maintained roads carried us to the temple in no time.
“I’ll be right back.”
“Haha. Take all the time you need. In fact, the slower the better for me.”
Leaving the freeloading coachman behind, I entered the temple. The same priest who had greeted me on my previous visit—and who clearly had some connection to Aiden—came forward with a bow.
“Welcome, Brother. Have you come once more to pay your respects to the Goddess?”
Not respects so much as a few pointed questions…
“Haha… well, something like that.”
I hid my true thoughts behind an awkward smile. The priest’s face lit up.
“As expected of one who receives the Goddess’s favor. Truly devout.”
Receiving praise that suited me not at all, I walked on until I stood before Kylie’s statue.
“Then I pray your conversation with the Goddess yields a satisfying result once again.”
Under the priest’s blessing I approached the statue. The serene, benevolent smile carved into the divine image instantly clouded over with pure annoyance.
“Why are you here again? I specifically asked you not to seek me out if you could help it.”
I addressed the already snippy Kylie.
“I’ve got a few questions. They’re important.”
“Haa… One. The third slave Mir summoned—I cannot restore her. Untangling that knotted psyche would require me to apply my power directly, but she has already assimilated demonic energy. If any divine power—mine or another god’s—acts on her, she will simply vanish on the spot.”
Uh…
I stared blankly at Kylie, who had answered as if she already knew exactly what I wanted to ask.
“What? I told you that while it’s a nuisance, reincarnators like you are priority management targets, so I have no choice but to keep an eye on you, didn’t I?”
You never said that…
“Well, I only check in occasionally. Today the timing just happened to line up.”
Isn’t that dereliction of duty?
“Anyway. Two. There are methods of healing. They don’t differ much from what Hana told you. First: slowly, carefully make her aware of the gap between reality and the brainwashing so she wakes on her own. Second: overwrite the brainwashing. Third: kill only the brainwashed persona and awaken the one that still sleeps beneath.
“The fastest is the third, but one mistake and she sleeps forever alongside the buried self. The safest and most complete is the first, though the longer the brainwashing has lasted, the longer it will take. Overwriting depends on the skill of the one doing it, but in the end it’s still brainwashing—so the result may not match the full recovery Mir desires.”
So in the end, the only real option is long, careful work… Haa…
I sighed inwardly at an answer that fell short of what I’d hoped for. Kylie clenched a fist and continued.
“And finally, three. What on earth possessed you to offer a check as a sacrifice? Are you in your right mind? Do you even know what a check is? You take a check to a bank and they hand you the amount written on it. Were we supposed to manifest, stroll into a bank, and cash the thing? Have you lost your mind?”
Kylie snapped, then flung the check I had used as an offering straight at me.