Ficool

Chapter 8 - c8

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Translator: penny

Chapter: 8

Chapter Title: The Man Who Almost Became a Slave

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The first floor of the inn was a restaurant, a space for simple meals.

It was just right for satisfying hunger.

A bit stale bread and soup.

A chunk of meat lightly warmed over the fire.

In my original world, the visuals would have made me swear never to touch it...

'Looks delicious.'

In the military, even Choco Pie tastes sweet.

Let alone in a fantasy world—if it's salty enough and filling, that's a feast fit for a king.

"For today, let's be satisfied with this. Tomorrow, we'll go somewhere for something tastier."

Ashy gazed at me intently as she spoke.

Her soft voice still felt unfamiliar.

But considering she had regressed, it wasn't impossible to understand.

"...Thank you."

For the past few days, I'd only eaten potatoes.

Even stale bread was edible once soaked in the soup.

One bite of meat felt like pure ecstasy.

"You should say 'thanks' instead. Why use formal speech like that—it doesn't suit you."

"...Thanks."

Ashy sliced some meat and placed it on my plate.

I have hands and feet—why was she doing this?

She might as well unlock the chastity cage.

But I didn't show it.

Even if she carried some inexplicable sense of debt from her regression, Ashy was Ashy.

From my position, she held absolute power.

"Don't use formal speech from now on."

"...Okay, got it..."

"Only when you're sincerely begging, understand?"

"..."

I nodded slowly.

No matter how ridiculous it seemed, following her was the smart move for now.

In this dangerous fantasy world, the ass of a regressed hero was sturdier than any backing.

A rational calculation told me that erection control or orgasm management was nothing.

Better than getting my backdoor drilled by a shit gay guy.

Better than being crushed under a fat noble auntie.

My dick would prefer being locked in the chastity cage right now, too.

"Want to take a short walk?"

We finished our simple meal.

Ashy showed no sign of heading back to the room.

What right did I have for her to even ask?

It would end up as she wanted anyway.

I hid my resignation and nodded.

We left the inn and walked the city streets.

The sun hadn't set yet, so it was fairly lively.

Merchants hawking wares, beggars pleading, all sorts of people filling the roads.

'...Slaves.'

Among them were people leading beastkin as slaves.

They occupied quite affluent positions.

Mostly merchants, and there were a fair number of them.

A chill ran down my spine at the thought that I had nearly ended up like that.

Engraved with a Slave Brand on my heart, living on without the mercy of death...

"Let's check out this shop."

Trailing behind Ashy, we arrived at an unfamiliar store.

She grabbed my wrist and pulled me inside.

Ding-a-ling.

"Welcome."

The shop displayed various pieces of equipment.

High-end gear made my eyes widen instinctively.

A world where heroes clash with demons.

Do heroes travel alone?

Absolutely not.

Companions to aid the hero, beloved lovers, romantic adventures together.

Etching your name in history as a hero's companion might be the surest path to success in this world.

Grabbing power without tying yourself to a noble house.

The perfect situation?

A regressed hero, unable to forget the past, seeks me out and offers to take me along.

Even though an clueless companion is just baggage.

My resistance to the chastity cage was fading bit by bit.

'Does beauty really conquer all?'

I wouldn't live off just staring at her face forever, but looking at Ashy right now melted away my anger.

A hero's well-trained, healthy figure, ample breasts too full for one hand, a large ass, hips perfectly rounded for bearing children.

Watching from behind made it impossible not to get aroused.

Without the chastity cage, I'd be hard constantly.

'...Not bad.'

When she asked why I rejected her touch.

No proper answer came to mind.

There was simply no reason to push Ashy away.

Having rationalized my heavy crotch, I followed behind her.

Ashy chatted back and forth with the shop owner.

What equipment would she buy?

Would any be for me?

I didn't want to hope, but I couldn't help it.

Human nature.

"We don't have dog collars, but we do have iron slave collars."

"...That might look a bit off visually. Something with a nicer appearance."

"I'll check."

The shop owner headed to the back storage.

"Dog collar?"

"Hm?"

"He just said dog collar, right?"

Dog collar.

I wondered whose it could be for.

The answer came quickly.

Ashy wouldn't wear it herself.

Which naturally led to it being mine.

Chastity cage, and now a dog collar?

Erasing not just my masculinity, but my humanity too?

"It's a gift for Puppy."

"Dog collar... You're saying you're putting it on me, around my neck."

"Yeah. So people know you're mine."

"...Ha...!"

The chastity cage was invisible to others.

Unless I dropped my pants in public, no one would know.

But a dog collar was different.

Wearing it made me no different from a slave.

With a leash attached, it was the icing on the cake.

No Slave Brand, but a slave nonetheless.

"Why? Don't like it?"

"...Of course not..."

"Really?"

How could I?

Being dragged around like a dog instead of a person—who would like that?

Perhaps because of that, Ashy pondered briefly.

I couldn't tell if it was genuine, but she seemed conflicted.

I could understand up to the chastity cage.

Well, more or less.

But not the dog collar.

I'm human too!

"Whatever. I want to put a dog collar on Puppy."

"...Heh..."

What more was there to say?

Ashy wouldn't bend her stubbornness.

She owned me by force and did as she pleased.

The shop owner emerged from the back storage.

He held a bright red dog collar.

"This is the best one we have. The others are poor quality and performance, but this has a special feature."

"Special feature?"

Ashy took interest.

What amazing function had the shopkeeper holding back on?

"See this gem embedded here?"

The shop owner pointed to the dog collar.

A silver jewel adorned the center of the red collar body.

"Yeah, what about it?"

"This gem has one enchantment. A modified version of the Slave Brand magic."

"...Slave Brand is a bit much."

Ashy glanced at me.

She seemed wary, anticipating my backlash against the Slave Brand.

Already half-treated like a slave, it was absurd.

The shop owner shook his head.

As if it wasn't that extreme.

"It's not as dangerous as a Slave Brand. Very basic. No harm to the wearer. It just can't be removed. Unlike regular collars, it can't be taken off by the wearer themselves—no other functions."

"I'll take it."

"Hahaha, it's very appealing to those with such tastes."

Ashy snatched the dog collar as if it were natural.

The silver gem sparkled.

"You register as owner with mana. After that, only the owner can remove it."

"...I see."

Ashy looked at me.

The shop owner's gaze landed on me too.

In this place, I was the owner of the dog collar.

It was obvious enough for the shop owner I'd just met to notice.

"Puppy, come here."

"For real? You're seriously putting it on me?"

"Yeah. You're mine, right?"

I took a step back.

Ashy approached, fiddling with the collar clasp.

Her eyes grew increasingly fierce.

Crude terms for it—her eyes were rolling back.

"Don't make me mad."

"...Why put something like that on me? You don't need it."

"No reason. Just because I want to."

"..."

"If you try to run, I'll punish you. You have to stay by my side forever, until you die. Got it? This is proof. I'll get you a fancier one later."

Not a man gifting a necklace to a woman—Ashy was gifting me a dog collar.

And she planned to put it on herself, drawing closer.

There was nothing I could do.

With choices erased, what was left?

Like a condemned man on the guillotine, stretching out my neck and waiting...

Click.

"Good boy, staying still like that."

The dog collar wrapped around my neck.

Not like a regular necklace, it felt constricting.

Ashy stroked my head.

Her touch, as if praising me, wasn't unpleasant.

Whirr-.

The silver gem glowed.

Owner recognition complete, locked.

"Try taking it off."

The shop owner said to me.

His smug satisfaction pissed me off.

I wanted to smash that guy's head in.

I did my best to remove the dog collar.

No key, not even a tricky mechanism, yet I couldn't get it off.

"Can't really get it off."

"Only the registered owner can unlock it. Unless someone can break the magic itself..."

"Mm, good."

Ashy scanned me up and down, nodding.

Whatever made her so proud—she smiled brightly.

Seeing that smile oddly lifted my mood too.

Even with a dog collar around my neck, because a beauty was smiling...

"Hero, we have a leash too. Made with mithril alloy—even decent swords can't cut it. It's a set with that collar."

"Give me that too."

The shop owner sold the leash as well.

Ripping off the sucker hero for a fortune.

Ashy took the leash and approached me.

Collar already on—what was a leash?

To me, who'd already given up, this was nothing.

'Think positive.'

If I'd been sold to that pig bastard Gertong or whatever shit gay?

I'd have suffered worse.

According to Ashy, my fate was to be his sex slave.

Just changed from Gertong to Ashy.

Gut-fat-laden shit gay pig spawn VS top-class hero in every way?

'Not bad!'

I couldn't overhaul 20 years of values overnight, but up to here (chastity cage, dog collar), reason could handle it.

For money, I could do a 'fantasy asshole show' or whatever.

Not to mention, I owed her my life.

'Bark if told to bark, lick if told to lick.'

Mentally steeling myself, it didn't bother me anymore.

"Thank you for your visit, Hero!"

The shop owner saw us out to the street.

Having paid a hefty sum, his bow reached 91 degrees.

Ashy gripped the leash tight and tugged me along.

I trailed obediently behind her.

We left the alley for the main street.

"Oh my, what's that about? Leading around a grown man..."

"...A slave? Doesn't look beastkin."

"That lady has unique tastes. Uniform... Huh? A hero?"

Gazes focused on us.

People started murmuring about me and Ashy.

Whispers.

If I could hear, Ashy certainly could too.

With her personality, she wouldn't let gossip slide.

She could charge out swinging her holy sword any second.

But Ashy ignored them, pretending not to hear, and walked on.

Shoulders back, chest out, confident stride.

Unlike her demeanor, her earlobes were flushed red.

She seemed to enjoy the gossip.

We kept walking like that.

With the murmurs as background noise, Ashy paraded me through the city's corners.

As the sun began to set.

We finally returned to the inn.

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