The girl Senomi had an unhappy childhood.
When she was very young, she was abducted and taken to Kazimierz. There, she was kidnapped by hunters, turned into a commodity, and forced to have a shameful identification code engraved on her body.
The barcode on her arm was a brand that could never be erased.
This particular slave market operated under the guise of a tavern, and the owner of the tavern was also the one running the slave trade.
Senomi was one of the many unfortunate souls trapped there.
Every day, she ate the cheapest food and lived in horrid conditions—an existence far too painful for any child.
To cut costs, the boss even made her do labor far beyond what her age and strength could bear.
'Help me.'
Growing weaker and weaker, Senomi—on the brink of collapse—prayed silently in her heart.
Just as she was about to give up hope, a phidia man walked into the slave market. He had golden hair, a luxurious knight's uniform, and a brilliant, sunny smile.
His smile was almost too much—exaggerated, with the corners of his mouth pulled unnaturally wide.
But to Senomi, he looked like a beam of light piercing through the darkness clouding her heart.
To the eyes of a child, this knight in shining armor was unmistakably a hero come to save her.
"Boss! I want all of these products!"
Hearing the man's spirited voice, the slave market owner rushed out to greet him.
'An important customer—he couldn't afford to be careless!'
And so, after a brief exchange of money and words, all the slaves were handed over to the smiling Phidian knight.
"From now on, this knight is your new master. You must obey him. Understand?"
As the boss cracked the whip in his hand, the slaves nodded numbly, lifeless.
With chains on their ankles, they followed the knight—who still wore that exaggerated, gleaming smile—step by step, out of the market.
After sending the knight and his new "possessions" off, the boss returned to his tavern. There, he noticed that the server standing at the entrance wore the exact same exaggerated smile as the knight.
"What are you grinning about, kid?"
"I'm just so happy the boss made such a huge deal! Maybe now my salary will go up again."
"Don't give me that," the boss replied with a scolding smile.
As a veteran slave trader, he understood the value of keeping subordinates loyal. Every time he landed a big deal, he'd always share a cut with them. It kept their loyalty strong.
Especially this one.
He had once saved the boss's life—his most trusted subordinate.
"I've never made money without cutting you in. Don't pull that expression again. You're creeping me out."
"Oh—sorry."
Once the worker's face returned to normal, the boss finally relaxed.
"Let's close up early today. I'll take the boys out for some fun tonight."
With that, the boss turned and headed toward his secret basement, planning to stash away the earnings from today's big transaction.
The boss didn't notice that the corners of the waiter's mouth had once again risen into that same exaggerated grin. In his hand, he held a bottle of wine and silently followed the boss from behind.
---
"Sir, could you please explain why you haven't completed the tasks assigned by the Happiness and Peace of Mind Committee? These tasks are well within your capabilities."
In a dimly lit alleyway, a woman with pink hair and two furry, semicircular ears stood in front of a man kneeling on the cold pavement. She wore a sharp formal uniform—elegant and precise.
Her name was Senomi.
"Ma'am, I just don't understand the point of these tasks," the man muttered, eyes downcast and clothing ragged. "Doing 100 push-ups and running five kilometers every day… What's the use of that?"
"You must be new to the Duchy of Kashchey," Senomi said flatly.
"Yes, I settled here with my parents not long ago, but… we went bankrupt. I heard Duke Kashchey is kind and helps the poor, so I thought… maybe I don't have to do all these strange tasks…"
Senomi's expression didn't change.
It seems you're a hopeless case.
She sighed inwardly. Then, without hesitation and with practiced motion, she struck the man from behind with the handle of her knife, knocking him unconscious.
Pulling out her communication terminal, she contacted the Help You Realize Your Life Value team—an enforcement branch under the Committee.
"Take this man. Keep him in the re-education group for one month to repay his debt to Master Kashchey. If he repeats the offense, make it a year. Strip him of his citizenship and kick him out of the territory."
"Understood, Miss Chairman," came the voice through the terminal. "You're still out there working on the front lines... By the way, we've made progress with that search you've been pushing. Based on new leads, your parents appear to be alive…"
Drop—
Senomi abruptly hung up.
When she returned home, the front hall appeared calm and neatly arranged, with nothing particularly out of place. Clean, minimalist.
But stepping into her bedroom was a different matter entirely.
The shelves were packed with the complete kaleidoscopic series of Duke Kashchey dolls.
The walls were plastered with photos of Kashchey in all kinds of outfits and poses.
And on the bed—sprawled like a guardian—was a giant ultra-limited edition plush of the Knight of Kazimierz.
Senomi threw herself onto the bed, wrapping her arms tightly around the plush.
She curled up in silence.
The news was too much.
She needed time to breathe.
---
"Finally done."
Kashchey stretched out his limbs, then carefully slipped the drawing beneath the vigilant gaze of the Snake Scales.
"This identity's used up. The universities in Ursus are searching everywhere for me, and there are only so many Liberian history teachers to hide behind. Most people think the body of Koshelna is mine. I need to exhaust the last of that body's value—quickly."
---
A Liberian woman stood in front of the classroom, pale-faced, dressed in black and red. Her white hair flowed down her back.
She was delivering her final lecture.
The sense of accomplishment from maintaining this body's social role and educating others no longer brought Her the same satisfaction. In fact, She felt a tinge of boredom.
Perhaps in the future, teachers from races like Phidia, Ursus, Draco, and Zalak would emerge and leave their marks on history. But for now, this Liberi teacher had reached the end of her role.
Stagnation did not align with Koshelna's aesthetic.
"Children, this will be my last class."
She gently set the textbook down on the podium and looked out over her students with warm, compassionate eyes.
Among them sat Phidian, Liberi, Ursus, and even others from different races—gathered together in this modest classroom to study history.
As the students sensed a subtle shift in Teacher Koshelna's demeanor, a ripple of excitement spread through the room.
They couldn't help but feel it—this gentle, dedicated history teacher who had patiently guided them... could she really be that Duke of Kashchey?
The Duke of Kashchey, here in front of us all along?!
"Shh~"
Koshelna raised a slender finger to her lips, signaling for silence.
Instantly, the classroom fell still.
Somehow, the students knew—this wasn't just any lesson.
It was one that would change their lives.