The Greedy Toad's Demand

As I opened my eyes, an unfamiliar ceiling filled my vision. Cold sweat soaked my back. It was a nightmare—the lingering dregs of Victor, the original owner of this body. The moment I realized the golden contract I thought I’d secured was nothing more than a meat shield, only to be discarded. The horrific despair of being eaten alive inside a colossal scheme.

‘Even dreaming of another man’s past as a nightmare.’

I sat up in bed and let out a hollow laugh. The sticky pressure tightening around my lungs from every direction. Yet it was a sensation far too familiar to me. Hostile takeover battles where capital worth trillions collided. Once the board was set, the ones who had smiled so kindly were the first to transform into starving mad dogs.

Embezzlement of core assets worth hundreds of billions through paper companies. Dirty media wars fabricating scandals out of thin air. Mud-slinging lawsuits that dropped astronomical damage claims to bleed the acquirer dry. A business that strangled the breath and devoured the guts with mere scraps of paper. The corporate raider who had reigned supreme, tearing at others’ weaknesses and severing necks amid that massive tidal wave of capital.

That had been my life. Only the packaging was different. Whether it was a noble at risk of losing his territory or a chaebol on the edge of having his entire group stolen, the essence of the malice they spewed the instant their astronomical money line was about to be cut remained the same.

‘In the end, it’s simply the difference between being trampled or trampling first.’

Knock, knock.

The sound of a door being rapped at the perfect, almost expectant timing.

“Come in.”

Silvia entered through the opened door. With practiced, precise movements she filled the glass on the table with cool water and offered it to me.

“Master. You have a visitor.”

Morning sunlight slipping through the window frame shattered across her pale, gleaming silver hair. Her figure, with skin so clear it seemed translucent, radiated an almost unreal luster. The top-grade slave Victor had purchased four years ago by paying a colossal sum of gold coins.

The young Silvia who had once stared vacantly into space from behind the iron bars of the slave market, her eyes empty and unfocused. He had felt an unusually strong sense of ownership simply because he had paid a high price; the emotion had not run particularly deep. According to the original story my sister had told me, she was not even a character of significant weight in the plot.

Yet when I looked at her through Victor’s memories, she had been a source of small and large comforts—a sliver of hope for the man.

“Who?” I asked curtly, accepting the glass.

“Gomez, sir.”

“Reason?”

“The due date for the interest on the five thousand gold coins you borrowed under the pretext of expanding the trading house has arrived…” Silvia continued her report in a perfectly upright posture. “He stated he wished to personally confirm the client’s personal condition and current asset status.”

I drained the water in one gulp and set the glass down on the table.

“We’re going down.”

The first-floor reception room.

When I descended the stairs with Silvia in tow, the massive man lounging arrogantly on the sofa with his legs crossed turned his head. Gomez. His snake-like gaze clung persistently to Silvia’s gait and the neat fit of her uniform as she came down the stairs. The wrinkles in her skirt hem, the slight disarray of her blouse collar. A blatant inspection to determine whether she had been touched by her master during ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the brief time she had left him alone in the reception room to wake me.

Rumors abounded that Victor, who loathed any flaw appearing on his merchandise to the point that even his sexual desires had been castrated, would never allow such a thing. Therefore Gomez’s obsession was meaningless, yet the man’s gaze only grew darker and more viscous.

“Aww~ Our dear customer Victor. You haven’t been exerting yourself since morning, have you~?”

Rustle. Chomp, chomp. The man devoured the refreshments laid out on the table like a beast. Crumbs scattered messily across the carpet.

“I can never hold myself back whenever I come here. The refreshments, the slaves—everything looks so delicious. Hehe.”

A tongue stretched out like a snake. The disgusting, wet sound of him licking up the crumbs stuck to the corner of his mouth.

Creak. Through the open reception room door, a maid and Elina appeared. It seemed Elina ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had been following the maid since early morning to learn the mansion’s chores.

“……G-greetings, Master.”

Following the maid who bowed first, Elina awkwardly grasped the hem of her skirt and lowered her head. The strict slave etiquette she had only just learned from Silvia. The suppressed movements and the white ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠fingertips trembling with tension revealed her origins as an imperial princess. The way she shrank in on herself, trying to hide her flushed nape.

Gomez’s glistening eyes snapped toward her.

“Oho. So this is the child I’ve only heard about in rumors? Hmm… She doesn’t lose out even when compared to our Silvia.”

The man greedily scanned Elina’s beauty, then winked slyly at Silvia.

“But my heart is always full of our Silvia~.”

Elina’s brow furrowed slightly. A guest acting as if he owned the place and openly harassing the slaves. I sat down on the sofa opposite Gomez. I leisurely accepted the teacup Silvia offered.

“Customer. The interest payment date is approaching. If you happen to be unprepared for this month’s six hundred gold coins…”

He bared his yellow teeth.

“I heard your funds have completely dried up lately~? Instead of this month’s interest, why don’t you hand over our Silvia here? I’ll forgive two months of interest and generously deduct one thousand gold coins from the principal~.”

It seemed the news that I had scraped together every last gold coin last night to purchase Elina had already reached his ears. Once liquid assets ran dry, even the smallest variable could clog the cash flow and trigger multiple crises. A money-crazed beast like Gomez would never miss that rotten smell.

He had come to personally gauge how badly my finances had collapsed.

I set down the fragrant teacup.

“Know your place, Gomez.”

“……Pardon~?”

“If the payment date still remains, wait quietly like a dead mouse. Do not arbitrarily appraise the value of what is mine without my permission.”

The wet smacking sounds Gomez had been making while chewing the refreshments gradually died. Yet he soon forced a sly smile back onto his face.

“Hehe. You’re still full of spirit. See you tomorrow~ I hope you remain just as spirited then~.”

Gomez rose from his seat and headed for the door. Then he stopped abruptly right in front of Silvia, who stood waiting there.

Sluuurp— Haa. The man thrust his snout close to Silvia’s nape and took an obvious, noisy sniff of her scent.

“Aww, what a lovely fragrance. I’ll go recharge myself fully with your body scent~.”

A laugh mixed with disgusting mucus. Silvia’s expression remained fixed like a mannequin’s. Yet despite that, the fine hairs on her forearms stood rigidly on end.

Shaaaaa—

I faced the mirror while being pelted by the pouring hot water. A thick scar ran across my face, yet the features beneath it were bold and handsome. The cleanly divided muscles and broad shoulder frame could easily devour an average mercenary. A violently attractive physique that would steal gazes from men and women alike.

I had trained in practical combat for a long time to build stamina and self-defense. Yet the bitter memory of my previous life—collapsing helplessly from a single unexpected stab amid accumulated fatigue—still lingered. Victor was a living weapon who had mastered bottom-tier combat techniques after experiencing every hardship imaginable.

If I wanted to avoid the same dog’s death in this life, I would need harsh training to perfectly synchronize Victor’s hardware, his combat skills, and the knowledge from my previous existence.

A trivial conversation I had shared with my sister. But the girl had been right. The real reason Victor had fallen. Severe cash shortages caused by octopus-like business expansion for some unknown reason. The murderous interest payments that had to be poured into Gomez’s maw every month. The worst blunder of being unable to endure the pressure of the trading house’s completely shattered liquidity and continuously selling off the key slaves essential to its profits.

In the end, the pathetic death of pouring that horrific stress sadistically onto Elina only to be hacked into pieces by her hand.

The first condition for my comfortable survival: forcibly sever the current chain of deficits and rapidly normalize the collapsed financial state.

After finishing my shower, I entered the office wearing a light shirt and a well-fitted vest. I gave a short order to Silvia, who was organizing documents.

“I’ll be going out. Prepare two combat slaves.”

My gaze turned toward the training grounds outside the window.

“Open the armory for Elina and provide her with equipment suited to her physique.”

Silvia bowed her head.

Not long after leaving the mansion, we reached the capital’s back alleys after darkness had fallen. Massive combat slaves carrying greatswords flanked me on both sides. Elina, armed with a light breastplate and iron sword, stuck close behind me.

Though the gear was low-grade mass-produced, the former reaper of battlefields was sharply reading the surrounding air. The dim light of cheap magic lamps, the sour stench of ale and vomit that stung the nose. The sticky solicitation of prostitutes who deliberately exposed their cleavage while clinging to men’s sleeves. On the opposite side, the murky voices of black-market merchants haggling over bloodstained stolen goods. The hungry gazes of pickpockets glinting in the dark and the groans of vagrants rolling in the mud.

We emerged from the nauseating narrow alleys of the slums.

Flash—!

A massive flood of light exploded across my vision as if by magic. A colossal street of pleasure where neon magic lamps embroidered the night sky. The true heart of the underworld where the empire’s vast black money gathered like blood and circulated.

We crossed that dazzling landscape where blind capital danced and stopped before the most arrogantly brilliant building in the entire pleasure district—the newly risen gambling den, the Golden Toad.

“Uh… Aren’t you Lord Victor?”

The two burly guards at the entrance blocked my path without lowering their crossed spears. They must have heard the rumor that my funds had dried up and I had become a toothless tiger; they forced their heads high in a show of defiance. Yet their thick knuckles gripping the spear shafts were trembling faintly.

“By regulation… those without proof of funds or armed slaves are not permitted entry.”

With my hands still in my pockets, I slowly scanned the guards’ faces.

“No matter how close I am to going bankrupt the day after tomorrow.”

The guards’ eyes wavered.

“I still have more than enough to cut off two doormen’s heads and pay the penalty fee.”

Killing intent that suggested the combat slaves’ greatswords might fly at any moment. The guards broke into cold sweats, exchanged glances, and hastily withdrew their spears.

Creaaaak—!

The moment the heavy iron door opened, a foul mix of cigarette smoke and perfume assaulted us. Clink—!

“Aaaargh! Why did you stop there!!”

“It exploded! Jackpot!”

Within the acrid air, the clashing of gold coins, the gamblers’ screams, and sighs of ecstasy tangled together grotesquely. As if to drown out the noise, an indoor string quartet in one corner of the hall poured out fast, decadent music without pause. Scantily clad maids carried strong liquor. Along the edges of the hall, guests wrapped their arms around half-naked women and hurried upstairs to private rooms for secret pleasures. A typical beastly cesspool where gambling and prostitution merged.

“My, my, who do we have here?”

In the center of the hall, the Golden Toad’s head manager, arms arrogantly folded, approached with a greasy smile. He really did look like a toad.

“Is this the slave you bought with your entire fortune? That famous one from the Valois family, Elin—”

The manager’s gaze locked onto Elina behind me. Viscous lust flashed in his eyes, and his thick hand suddenly reached toward her backside.

“Let’s see what a princess’s ass tas—”

Elina’s hand instinctively moved toward her sword hilt.

“Instead of this noisy pigsty,” my low voice pinned the man’s hand in midair, “guide us to a place where we can speak privately.”

The manager withdrew his hand with an awkward click of his tongue.

“Tsk. As you wish. Escort them respectfully.”

A space behind a heavy closed door. A dozen guards stood at intervals, and the manager entered last. Everyone remained silent, yet from beyond the thin walls, irregular and sticky female moans leaked in shamelessly.

“The rooms were full. Just ignore it.”

The manager sat on the sofa, forcibly crossing his plump legs, and shrugged. “Ah, does that princess make such vulgar noises in bed too?”

“Do you know why I came here?”

“Isn’t it obvious? You don’t have the money for interest, so you’re trying one last gamble in my establishment to hit it big.”

I stared at the man’s arrogant face and recited quietly.

“Even in a back-alley cesspool like this, there are ‘unwritten rules.’ Break even one, and you either leave this world or pay for your sins with your life.”

The sneer on the manager’s lips faded slightly.

“First. Feeding hallucinogens to a noble’s son to inflate his debt.”

“T-that was because the bastard started making a scene first—”

“Second. Illegally taking another person’s branded slave as collateral.”

“I only held her until the debt was repaid!”

Impatience began mixing into the man’s voice.

“Third. Killing a rival organization’s financier inside a neutral zone where blades are forbidden by agreement.”

“D-do you have proof?!”

Cold sweat beaded on the manager’s forehead. I leaned forward and drove in the final nail right in front of his face.

“And fourth. Creating ‘double books’ by falsifying the monthly tribute amount and lining your own pockets.”

The manager’s pupils shook wildly and his mouth fell open as if his breath had been cut off.

“You know how that strict boss of yours, Gomez, deals with bastards who play with his money. Every single one who tried it before was sliced up and fed to livestock.”

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“Y-you crazy bastard! How dare you slander me with such a scheme? Hey, tear this son of a bitch apart! He’s a corpse sitting on a mountain of debt by tomorrow anyway!”

The guards drew their weapons. I pulled an old file from my coat and waved it in the air.

“Will you be the one sliced first, or will Gomez see this ledger and twist your neck faster?”

A perfect provocation. The manager, having lost his reason, roared.

“Take that ledger first!!”

All-out war erupted. With a short hand signal, the combat slaves and Elina behind me shot forward. Clang—! Stab!

The secret room instantly turned into a blood-soaked slaughterhouse. Elina, who had no mana but pierced enemy vitals with pure beast-like reflexes. Yet her steps—her body only temporarily recovered—twisted for a split second.

Swish— One thug who had clearly eaten plenty of blades seized the tiny opening and slithered into Elina’s blind spot like a viper.

The leather breastplate heaving with her ragged breaths. Black hair plastered to her forehead with sweat, flushed cheeks. The decadent allure of a fallen princess blooming in the middle of a small battlefield drew the eye.

A blue-edged dagger hurtled toward Elina’s nape.

Bang—!

My body, having kicked off the table and leaped, drew a beast-like trajectory. The edge of my hand closed the distance in an instant and twisted the dagger-wielding wrist into a grotesque angle.

“Kraaa…”

Before the scream could fully escape, my heavy fist smashed into the man’s jaw. Crack!

The thug spewed a mist of blood and slammed into the marble floor like a lump of meat.

‘…Light.’

Even after the reckless leap and strike, there was no scream from my muscles—only explosive vitality enveloping my entire body. The overwhelming hardware of Victor’s body, forged at the very bottom.

I lowered my gaze. Elina sat on the marble floor, gasping for breath. The instant I saw her white nape that had nearly been pierced by the dagger moments ago, the cursed ending from the original story my sister had told me—where Victor’s limbs were severed—scraped across my mind.

But I would not let it become my future.

I shook the blood off my fist and spat coldly at her.

“Is having a hole drilled in your neck a hobby of yours?”

“……?”

The bizarre question coming from the man who had just saved her life. “The only place you’ll ever be pierced is in a goblin breeding pen.”

“W-what…!”

Elina’s pupils as she looked up at me were filled with the clear expression that she had endured all sorts of outrageous insults before, but never anything this absurd.

“How you will be used is for me to decide.”

“……!”

The man who had saved her from the most lethal crisis, and the master who now spoke the merciless language of control and breeding that froze one to the bone. She could not avoid my gaze even as complex emotions crossed her face.

Only the manager still trembled in the corner, breathing.

“S-spare me, spare me please… I’ll give you as much money as you want…!”

Every means he had to protect himself now lay as lumps of meat across the floor. Realizing he was the one being hunted, he scrambled desperately toward me.

“Lord Victor. I’ll give you every share I’ve saved. No, I’ll offer everything from now on.”

The manager, covered in blood, crawled pathetically and tried to lick the tip of my shoe. I lifted my foot slightly away from his tongue. His head, pinned beneath my sole, remained firmly pressed to the floor.

“If you break the rules of this cesspool, you must take responsibility. Everything belonging to a bug that broke the rules is monopolized by the judge. That is the law of this place.”

Crack.

The weight I placed onto my shoe. The horrifying sound of a skull being crushed and bones snapping filled the rather spacious room.

“Uwaaaaaaaa!!! Lord Victor, I’m sorry! I truly committed a mortal sin. Please, if you just give me a chance, I will become your loyal dog, Lord Victor. Please!!!”

The manager crawled across the floor, tears, snot, and blood smeared across his face. Even his desperate struggle to grab my shoe in an attempt to survive did not stir much emotion in me.

Perhaps because some part of my emotions had been missing ever since merging with Victor, or perhaps the situation simply could not be understood otherwise. I looked down at him with coldly sunken eyes.

“I received requests from the family of the boy you fed drugs to, and from the place whose slave you illegally held as collateral.”

“Ugh… What are you…”

The man’s wriggling movements beneath my foot suddenly froze solid. His cloudy pupils, as if sensing the shadow of death, stared into empty space. I thrust the bill right in front of his face.

“They said one gold coin per hundred for your head, and that I could take any slave I wanted from their stock. Forming friendly relations and the crumbs that will fall in the future are worth more than keeping a bug like you alive, wouldn’t you say?”

“If you spare me, I will show you even greater value! Please believe me!”

Even his desperate plea—nails breaking as they scraped the marble floor—evoked no pity. My calculations and decision had been made long ago. I had no hobby of investing in bad assets whose credit had already collapsed.

“Weren’t you Gomez’s third?”

In truth, there had been no assassination request on this man. When I searched Victor’s memories, I saw he had used this method of fabricating words effectively, so I copied it. The lines stuck naturally, just as they always had.

I mercilessly placed my full weight onto the man’s head. Crack—!

With the sound of his skull shattering, the manager’s breath was cut off. This was already my second murder. I felt no great guilt about killing a person. Whether it was the power of memory synchronization or me desperately denying the other party’s death in this unreal situation, I wasn’t sure—but the man who was meant to die had died.

I pulled a heavy bundle of keys from inside his coat. I opened the door and stepped into the corridor. Everyone—me, the combat slaves, and Elina—was drenched in thick blood. Yet no one in the hall paid any attention to our horrific procession.

The gambling den’s slaves flinched but mechanically continued their tasks. The guests, mad with the chips before them, did not even notice the smell of blood.

A den steeped in pleasure. The counting room secretly hidden in the deepest part of the gambling den. After trying several keys from the manager’s bundle and opening the iron door, a massive steel safe greeted us. I unlocked the safe with another key, revealing a mountain of cash and precious metals.

“Take it all.”

“Yes.”

The slaves swept the safe clean, determined to leave not a single speck of dust, stuffing everything into the sacks they had prepared. And the real ledgers and files stored at the very back of the safe.

I took out the ledger I had shown the manager earlier and threw it into the red brazier in the corner of the counting room. Whoosh.

The ledger burned in the flames. Elina’s pupils widened dramatically. The evidence that had served as justification for the slaughter moments ago. The horrific act of throwing the most lethal weapon that could cut an enemy’s breath into the fire with her own eyes. Her gaze blankly alternated between the flames and my face.

I lightly ignored her shock. Instead, I tucked the ‘real double ledger’ I had just taken from the safe securely into my coat.

Information asymmetry. With bugs whose backs were dirty, all it took was one crude fake bait for them to lose their composure and stick their necks out willingly.

Tap. The sound of the real ledger disappearing into my outer coat pocket. As if realizing the insane deception play that had collapsed the enemy’s mentality with a single thin piece of bait called a fake ledger, induced perfect justification, and led to total asset seizure, Elina’s shoulders trembled.

Instinctive horror toward a predator whose depths could not even be fathomed filled her pale lips. Elina was swallowing hot breaths to suppress them. The cheerful clinking of heavy gold coin sacks mixed grotesquely with the air of the gambling den.

“Master. We have taken everything.”

I lightly tapped my blood-caked shoes on the floor.

“We return to the mansion.”

The live ammunition needed to extend my immediate survival had been secured. Clink— Two gold coins in my pocket. The cold metallic sensation against my fingertips was the perfect temperature to remind me once again that this space and time were not inside a novel.

The moment my gaze touched her, Elina hurriedly lowered her head, her shoulders trembling finely. It seemed enough time had passed for her to dilute the thought that the man before her was merely a thug who spat abuse.

To Gomez, who would arrive tomorrow with a broad smile, expecting my bankruptcy, the sudden news about the gambling den he operated would not be welcome. Or perhaps he would rampage like a mad dog upon hearing his business had been destroyed. Tomorrow. I hoped it would be the day the arrogant pig returned in tears.