Compromise - 3
"Before this visit, I took some preemptive measures."
Not long ago, whenever he went out somewhere by car, he'd always been with the civil servant, but now it had become natural to go out with Yukiko instead.
"Back then, it was really... Yukiko had so many copycats..."
"I was a bit surprised myself. There were even people imitating my makeup techniques and shampoo."
On the day he'd brought Mikoto home from the slave market, he'd encountered nearly twenty women who looked eerily similar to Yukiko. They were all beautiful, sure, but it had been a little creepy. They couldn't quite capture her genuine aura, but if you saw them in a low-res photo, even he might mistake them for Yukiko.
"This time, I handled the filtering of applicants on my end."
"You could do that?"
"I just subtly let them know things like, 'Your chances of being chosen by the master are low,' or 'We're looking for slaves skilled in bodyguard duties.' That's all."
"And people actually gave up over that?"
"A man's time is precious, and the right to meet is limited. If they're not going to be selected, it's better to save that opportunity for another master."
So sellers and buyers exchanged prior info to cut down on pointless time-wasters.
"You've been heading out a lot lately... But do you really need a bodyguard?"
"If it were up to my greed, I'd want to formally contract with a relevant agency to handle your protection."
"That feels a bit like being under surveillance, so nah."
"I figured you'd say that. Even so, it doesn't make sense for you to fight directly in sudden incidents like the Mikoto situation."
"But I'm the strongest, aren't I?"
"Yet you're far more important than we are. Your life is worth more than ten Mikotos, or ten Yukikos."
He wanted to say that wasn't true, but Yukiko's expression was so earnest he couldn't bring himself to argue. What if, just hypothetically, he suddenly dropped dead from some illness? Mikoto and Yukiko would undoubtedly suffer.
"Guess I should write a will..."
They were both capable people, and having become slaves once, they'd have gained residency rights, so they wouldn't end up destitute. But none of his assets would go to them—they'd all be returned to society. That didn't sit right with him. Not being legal family came with all sorts of inconveniences, even if it didn't seem like it at first.
"M-Master...?"
Yukiko stared at him with hollow eyes. Anxiety and fear radiated from her entire body.
"No, safe driving, safe driving! Eyes on the road! It was just about assets. Not like I'm dying right now..."
It felt like they'd been stopped for a while, but maybe because of the intimidating presence of the big black car, no horns blared from behind. The traffic light had already turned green.
Yukiko stepped on the accelerator again.
"There's no need to worry about what happens after you're gone. I'll die with you."
"Don't say such grim things... The living have to keep living."
"My life had no joy or meaning from the start."
Continuing this topic would just make Yukiko more uneasy, so he simply reclined in his seat and stayed silent until they arrived at the slave market.
The third one felt familiar. He entered the decadent red room, where premium liquor was poured into a transparent crystal glass, and settled into the plush, soft sofa to wait for the women.
"This is good stuff."
"It's not particularly rare. I'll stock some at home next time."
"How much?"
After hearing the price of the clear liquor from Yukiko, he waved her off.
"Nah, no need. Not worth that much."
"But you enjoyed it, didn't you? You're too stingy with your own pleasures, Master."
"Anything from the mart is fine. I can't even tell the difference anyway."
As they chatted idly, the door opened and the women entered. As Yukiko had said after pre-screening, none overlapped too heavily with her image. If there was any common thread, it was that many had a healthy, athletic vibe.
But when he saw the last one, all his nerves stood on end.
Tight jeans hugged legs that seemed to push against the fabric, revealing toned, slender beauty. Under a white crop top, living abs rippled. Her hair was tied back in a casual ponytail. Her relaxed, approachable posture and confident face made her pretty in a striking way. He'd definitely never met her before.
But the feeling was too familiar.
"Nice to meet you! I heard you're looking for a bodyguard, so here I am! No experience with night work, but I'll do my best!"
It wasn't seductive—more like a booming, bold voice at a corporate interview. Hearing it amplified his suspicions. It was definitely a voice he'd heard before.
"No bodyguard experience, but I'm confident in my swordsmanship! Back home, I was an instructor. Name's Kageyama Karin. Looking forward to working with you!"
It was that swordswoman from the war. He'd never faced her up close, and her voice had only been shouts heard a few times. But he'd learned her name another way and remembered it clearly.
The reason Karin was here seeking him out was obvious. Not every village that hid resistance fighters had been punished, so he'd hoped hers had "luckily" survived. But seeing her here now, that hope was dashed.
Thinking back, after losing that precious man in the war's later stages, there was no way they wouldn't respond.
"Yukiko, take the others out except for Karin. Please."
Without a sword, even if she grabbed someone nearby as a hostage, he could intervene faster. He focused all his attention on Karin.
"...Understood."
Yukiko looked deeply uneasy but honored his request. The others, clueless, were ushered out right after entering.
"Uh, d-did I get picked? Already? I mean, slave or whatever, but...?"
He'd considered that families or friends of those killed because of him might resent him. There were plenty of hate crimes—Japanese or Chinese women coming to Korea to target men for revenge. Most got brutally killed by enraged men in turn, but some shifted targets, murdering innocent women nearby instead.
"Sit down. I'll speak plainly, so you do too. We're not the type for formal talk, right?"
If he didn't deliberately come off rude and rough, he might end up pitying her.
"It's normal to be polite to an employer, but... sure. We look about the same age, so let's be friends!"
With a bright face, as if oblivious to everything, Karin extended her hand. It was as straightforward and open as her long legs.
If someone had killed Yukiko and he had to exact revenge, could he control himself that well? Even in that fight back then, he'd felt a respect for her as a human.
But he had no intention of letting her quietly pay for her crimes and die. He had things to protect too. He glared at her, eyes wide.
"Huh? Did I mess up?"
"No need to hide it. Karin. You knew it was me."
"I just heard that pretty sister who left earlier was paying big bucks... Said they'd use me as a bodyguard since I can fight, so I applied..."
She glanced at the liquor bottle. Probably scouting for weapons, but a flimsy glass like that wouldn't even scratch.
"The one who wiped out my squad with a single sword. That was you."
While he'd played cat-and-mouse with the mysterious swordswoman, other soldiers had searched the village. The villagers hadn't confessed right away, but that sergeant was competent. He'd quickly surveyed the population, identified someone who 'existed but wasn't visible in the village,' dug up her photo, and confirmed with survivors. Impressive work for such a small village.
"H-How did you...?"
"You thought I wouldn't know about you? Becoming a slave to catch me off guard...?"
But her reaction far exceeded his expectations. He'd braced for flight, a hidden dagger attack, or flat denial—none of that.
"I-I'm sorry! Can't you look the other way just once? Please, I beg you!"
Hastily prostrating and begging for her life was the last thing he'd imagined. He had no clue how to handle it, so he just stared blankly at her bowed form. Her firm lower body, wrapped in jeans, was absurdly on display.
"There were circumstances, real ones! Those guys were total scum. Just overlook it once. If I'm caught, it's the death penalty, right? Death?"
"Uh..."
"Y-Yeah! You've got my weakness now, so I'll have to do whatever you say, right? Becoming a slave and faithfully obeying... that'd settle it, yeah?"
He tried wordlessly piecing it together, but it made no sense. Half in escape, half dazed, she stayed prostrated. Her back muscles were impressively toned.