Carami was clearly not in his right mind.
He didn’t even feel the danger when threatening with a knife pressed against his neck and continued to laugh. Normally, someone like this frivolous human would have been left on the ground with their carotid artery cut.
If it hadn’t been for the mention of his granddaughter.
Victor’s granddaughter, Emili.
Naturally frail, Emili was a child in desperate need of care, and the one tasked with that role was Victor. Even though he was the leader of the organization, he was at an age where retirement was starting to look appealing.
The same went for the day the organization was destroyed. Because he was busy caring for Emili, Victor was absent from his duties, and thanks to that, he managed to survive.
Emili’s parents died alongside the organization on the day it fell.
Victor, who couldn’t afford to lose the last of his blood relatives, hid his identity and settled in Noctar. The problem was that despite calling for doctors and priests and buying expensive medicine, Emili’s illness was not improving.
In such a situation, what Carami said was enough to consume all of Victor’s nerves. He couldn’t even react, even if Carami took a dagger and stabbed him.
“How on earth do you know about that…?”
The fact that Emili had an incurable disease was something only Victor knew in the world. Since the time her parents died.
“I believe I’ve already told you who I am. Ultimately, what matters is the main point, isn’t it? Will you kill me and let your granddaughter die, or will you grant my request and save her?”
A proposition with no trust whatsoever.
It was not rational to accept this. Victor knew it in his head, but he was already cornered. Even at this time, Emili was dying.
He couldn’t afford to lose Emili as well.
The thought of torture never crossed his mind. The heart of a grandfather was not so cruel as to make a bet while his sick granddaughter was lying there.
“She must be cured. If you can’t keep your word, I’ll use that frail body as a dagger holder.”
“I truly didn’t expect you to actually cure her.”
Surprisingly, Carami kept his word. He brewed water from a stone he had never seen before and fed it to Emili, and she miraculously recovered.
It was something that even a cleric’s blessing could not cure.
With just a stone.
“How did you know about Emili’s illness? Even bringing in renowned doctors, they couldn’t identify her condition.”
“It’s a trade secret.”
There was of course a way to know.
Victor was a character significant enough to appear in games, and he could be used as an ally rather than a slave. Placing him in the assistant manager slot would increase work efficiency.
While it seemed meaningless to help him at the moment since he wasn’t doing any tycoon activities, that was not entirely true.
The master of the assassination guild.
The Shadow Duke, Victor.
Carami brainstormed. He would use Victor as an attack card. In the absence of combat slaves, he would become a very useful asset.
“Of course, there are some complications.”
Is it morally right to bring someone who has killed people to their side?
But there was really no room for debate.
After all, Carami himself was a slave merchant.
“I’m a kind slave merchant, though.”
The combination of a slave merchant and an assassin. In a way, it fit together nicely.
Of course, there was a selfish motive well over half of it. Carami suddenly spoke up.
“Twilight falls, and the duke stops dancing.”
“Why are you saying that all of a sudden…?”
“……”
Carami looked on silently, and with a sigh that suggested boredom, Victor had no choice but to play along.
He was the benefactor of his granddaughter.
“But the shadow continues to dance.”
“On a rainy night, where does the duke go~”
“To where there is darkness. To where there is no moonlight….”
At those words, Carami exclaimed, “Wow~,” and clapped his hands.
A dream of a chuunibyou!
The dream of a man!
“I really wanted to try exchanging slogans!”
We are the owls that do not cry.
We are the tigers with no footsteps.
How thrilled I had been when I saw it in other games.
In Taosle, there were similar elements that stimulated the dreams of men. The scenes where Victor exchanged code words would be among Carami’s ‘Top 10 Impressive Scenes in Taosle.’
Though it was an unwanted reincarnation, Carami was thoroughly enjoying it.
“I can’t tell what you’re thinking.”
“Well, it’s probably not something good. It’s better not to know.”
Victor nodded heavily.
He must be thinking of something he couldn’t imagine.
After chatting, the two finished tidying up the shop and went downstairs. In the basement, there were four children, including Emili.
Three of them were children that Carami had brought back and formed a master-slave relationship with.
“I must diligently collect points.”
Thanks to freeing Mirabel, the points were ample, but one never knew when they could disappear. Points could vanish even while existing.
“Come here!”
“Oh, um, hello….”
The children greeted them with happy faces. In the underground of the Duke of the Night, there was enough space for people to live. Carami also claimed a spot here as his lodging.
“Have you all been playing well?”
“Yeah!”
“Then I’m glad. I brought some gifts, so if there’s anything you like, feel free to take it.”
Carami spread out items on the table like a vendor. They were colorful accessories that girls of their age would likely enjoy.
The girls squealed “Aww~” as they held the accessories to their heads and clothes.
Watching them with satisfaction, Carami shifted his gaze.
“Matthew, aren’t you interested?”
Matthew was the only boy among the children Carami had brought from the slums. While the girls inspected the items, Matthew crossed his arms with a discontented expression.
“Of course I’m not interested! What guy likes that kind of thing?”
“Oh dear.”
“You know I’m not interested! Carami, you always discriminate against me, don’t you?”
“Haha, what obvious nonsense.”
Unlike the two girl friends, Matthew was not a slave. Carami had not chained his soul with fetters.
Was it a bad game if you had to raise a male character?
A male character was sufficient on its own.
Carami only took in females as slaves. No matter how capable they were, if they had something hanging between their legs, they were disqualified.
Matthew should consider himself lucky to be a friend with the girls. Otherwise, he would have been lying on the ground as a cold corpse by now.
“I’ll take this!”
“Then I’ll take this!”
“I, I’ll take this….”
The girls gradually picked items they liked. The sound of rising favorability was audible.
A new skill [Generous Master] obtained from freeing Mirabel.
The effects of the skills Carami received were not striking. They simply made it easier to operate as a slave merchant or focused on the relationship with the slaves.
[Generous Master] was the same. When Carami gave gifts to a slave, their favorability would rise slightly. It would allow breaking down the barriers that arise from the master-servant relationship more easily.
Seeing the children happy to receive gifts, Victor was called over by Carami.
“Victor. I need to talk to you for a moment.”
The expression on Carami’s face was rarely serious, causing Victor to become serious as well. The two entered a room and locked the door.
“What’s the matter?”
“It’s time for you to fulfill my request.”
Request.
What Carami had proposed in exchange for treating Emili. Whatever it was, Victor had promised to fulfill it. Even if it meant putting his own neck on the line.
“What is it?”
“You must have heard it at the tavern earlier. The Desert Rose Guild succeeded in hunting an elf.”
“I heard, but… honestly, I can’t believe it. I’ve faced elves before in a previous request, and they’re not something those mercenaries can handle.”
Carami nodded in agreement.
“But there are bound to be elves that can’t even use a bow properly or manage spirits adequately.”
“Well, that might be the case?”
“Perhaps an alcoholic elf that gets caught while sprawled out after drinking too much, unaware of an enemy’s invasion.”
“Y-yeah, that could happen…?”
“Plus one who’s such a nerd that he has no companions.”
“That’s unlikely, right?”
Carami grinned.
“The world is vast, and there are strange people as plentiful as grains of sand.”
“Ugh….”
Here lies one elf.
A useless being who can’t handle a bow or even the spirits that everyone else can.
A loner cast out from their community, unable to mingle with their kin.
An alcoholic who spends all day drinking, captured while passed out in the underbrush.
“Why is this happening to me…?”
In a makeshift prison between Noctar and the Great Forest.
Arfia sobbed bitterly in the cramped cell. Just when she thought she was finally getting a good night’s sleep, she found herself trapped in a cage.
All around her, rugged mercenaries were eyeing Arfia like prey while gulping down drink.
‘What’s going to happen to me now…?’
She had learned it as a child.
Humans abduct elves and enslave them. The moment you’re captured by a human, it’s the end of your life. Many elves end up living for hundreds of years only to die miserably.
Arfia was now facing that same fate.
Sadness fell like rain.
Fear spread like fog.
The rascals who synchronized with her emotions began to rampage violently. Overcome by overwhelming pain, Arfia clasped her heart.
It hurts.
It hurts so much.
I don’t think I can endure it.
Arfia, clutching the bars of her prison, called out to a passing mercenary.
“Excuse me… could you give me just a little alcohol?”
“What?”
“I really need some alcohol… please.”
“What’s going on?”
Feeling a strange notion as a subordinate whispered to the elf, the mercenary captain approached.
“Boss, this elf here is asking for alcohol too.”
“What?”
Looking down, he saw the pale-faced elf with a stiff smile pleading.
“No way. We’ll be arriving in the city tomorrow; imagine the smell of alcohol. What do you think the client will think? They’ll think we’ve done something strange.”
“Of course, right?”
“It’s strange that an elf is asking for alcohol after being captured for drinking too much. Well, I suppose we got a break thanks to that.”
Having scoffed at Arfia, the mercenaries returned to their group. Watching their retreating figures, Arfia slipped down and lay on the ground.
Just like a dried leaf withering in winter.
“Ugh.”
Arfia pressed her heart in pain, shutting her eyes as her consciousness began to fade.
‘…….’
In Arfia’s blurred vision, she noticed something.
A man casually walking toward the encampment with his hands behind his back.
“Just clean it up without leaving any witnesses.”
The man muttered to himself.
Following his orders, dozens of daggers shot up into the sky, shaped as if a duke were spreading his wings.
With that thought in mind, Arfia quietly closed her eyes.
