Ah... I don't know...
Wiping the tears from my childish face, I kept staring at my legs bound in chains. Sitting with my head pressed between my knees, I felt nothing but emptiness in my chest. Again and again, the memory of our conversation surfaced-when she handed me a piece of hard bread. Before that, I had never seen death in real life, only on television or in news photos.
But that day, when Alice simply fell and never stood up again, I felt like a bastard. I condemned myself for my helplessness. I couldn't do anything. I feel powerless and worthless-I should have done something. They just threw her away!
No, man... I'm sleeping in filth, eating filth, shitting stones-there was nothing I could do! I don't even know if I'll live long enough to reach their so-called auction!
*Clink*
These damn chains are so heavy. They shouldn't be this heavy. Maybe it's some other metal-I don't know. Finally, evening. That cursed sun is enormous! I didn't even cool down after sunset. Maybe I caught a cold? Heh... what does it matter now?
Why the hell is this happening to me? Did I destroy the world in a past life or something? Damn it! I need to think of something! I was reincarnated, wasn't I? Where's the damn luck?!
- Hey, Sam, did you hear? Recently, strange monsters attacked Eliza's estate. There were thousands of them! They say Lord Rude himself destroyed them all alone!
- Mok, stop listening to those bar stories. If he could kill a thousand monsters by himself, why would they hire so many people to guard the city?
- I don't know, Sam. If I were the city's master, I'd probably hire a ton of guards too-and never leave my damn luxurious mansion! Ha-ha! I'd drink and sleep every day, hugging those curvy women!
- Ha! Not everyone can become a lord, idiot. Only those born with power!
- Ha! And how would you know? Maybe I'm the great Lord Mok, born to rule!
- Keep it down, idiot! Don't say nonsense. If you were born like that, the Church of the Great God Ashti would've taken you away!
- Uh... yeah...
- Don't even joke about that, Mok. If a priest or a knight of the Church hears your rambling... I don't even know where the people they call heretics disappear to.
Whoa... so that kind of crap exists here? What the hell is this church?
Wait-if power is determined at birth, then I'm completely screwed. Now I'm sure my only future is death. I just hope it'll be quick.
Heh... even after dying once, I still don't want to die. I'm exhausted-mentally and physically. I...
To hell with it. Why wait for death? Yes! I've already died once! Screw you all! Screw this stupid world!
While he was desperately trying to figure out how to kill himself, six cages filled with exhausted children and adults suddenly came to a halt. Ahead of them, two wagons of luxurious carriages rushed past, pulled by a strange creature covered in white scales and golden ornaments. Low didn't even have time to see them properly before they were gone.
As he stared at the retreating carriage, one of the guards approached him-it was that guy, Sam.
- Hey, what the hell? Huh? What are you trying to do?
*Thud*
A barely audible groan escaped him, and he lost consciousness...
*****
- Ugh... damn, my head...
- Ha! So you were alive after all. Great. I hope they sell you for a good price! Ha-ha!
Through the pain, Low glared angrily at the so-called Theodore, the assistant to the Slave Master-but he was immediately kicked in the side again. Then everyone in the cage was dragged toward stone buildings. Turns out they were already in the city.
From afar, Low could hear the noise of the city, but here it was silent-like a grave. With weak groans, the slaves were led into basements. They were locked in cells again, but this time everyone was ordered to wash and clean themselves.
This water is filthy. Of course, they made us use the same water, one after another.
Damn it... that's disgusting! I saw them washing their asses in it.
- Blech...
- Hey, hurry up. Everyone needs to wash.
A strange-looking guy, probably over twenty, with a scar on his face, glared at me angrily.
Damn... just don't breathe. I can do this. Come on.
- Fuck! It's cold!
- Bastard, did you hear me? Move!
- Yeah, yeah. I got it. Now.
*Thump*
- Aah! Ah... damn... ngh...
- I said move!
Low lay there for several hours. He was mostly fine by then-but he didn't want to move. He just wanted to sleep.
But the cold stone floor wouldn't let him. Carefully, he moved along the wall to an empty cell. At least there was some straw and something that looked like cloth. Night fell, and he woke up to groans.
For a moment, he thought he was back in his apartment-but the cold and his small, exhausted body reminded him where he was. Somewhere, someone was being raped. Somewhere, someone was being beaten. Someone was crying. Someone was laughing. He noticed an empty bowl with soup residue-so they must've handed out food.
Low walked between the cells toward a structure resembling an animal trough, made of the same dark stone. He drank greedily. Several slaves sat nearby filling jugs and stared at him strangely. There were many empty jugs. He filled one and returned to his cell.
No adults spoke to him. He didn't care. Everyone here was a slave-everyone had either a gloomy or hateful look.
Damn... I'm hungry. At least there's plenty of water. Otherwise, I'd already be dead.
And there's some kind of sewage system here. It still smells like shit, but at least they know what sewage is... so this world isn't completely hopeless.
To hell with it. What now?
I'm in a stone basement. The cells don't have bars. There's only one exit-and it's guarded by some huge, furry, black creature with horns.
A minotaur?
It was sitting on a stone and sleeping.
Maybe...
Maybe there's magic here. Mana. Something.
Doesn't matter. I have to try anything.
Despite his exhaustion, Low stubbornly tried everything he could remember-movements, breathing, focus. He even muttered strange words in different languages. But no matter what he did, he grew weaker, and soon, from sheer exhaustion, he fell asleep again.
*****
- Faster! Move it, slaves!
- Mgh...
Low opened his sleepy eyes. Sunlight streamed through the narrow cracks of the cell. As he slowly came to his senses, he saw the slaves hurriedly gathering.
A muscular guard with fur, horns, and a tail barked orders. Everyone was told to gather-but only the adults were taken. The children were ordered back into their cells.
So the auctions have started?
Where are they taking them?
There weren't many adults-only sixteen, all under thirty. They were led out. The furry guard stayed behind.
There were about thirty children, aged ten to fourteen.
So... where do all these kids come from if they're constantly being taken into slavery? This can't happen every day, right? And not from just one village...
Something doesn't add up. Why so many children? Wouldn't workers be more useful?
Do children work too?
Too many questions...
As Low leaned against the cold wall, staring at the door, a group of older kids approached him. Boys only. Four looked ordinary, but two were taller and carried something like whips.
With nasty faces and sharp words, they began intimidating the other children, demanding their full bowls.
"Little shits... figures," Low thought, remembering school.
- Hey! You! Bring us your full bowl, got it?! (Boy A)
- Get lost! Low snarled, losing patience and taking a fighting stance.
- Ha! Look what we've got here! - Boy B exclaimed with interest.
- Let's show him what happens to those who don't do what they're told!
*Crack*
- Ugh! Fuck, that hurts! I didn't think he'd be that fast!
Damn, I need to close the distance!
Low charged at the two with whips. The others backed away, afraid of getting hit. He wanted to run faster, but he felt unbearably slow. The whip seemed to move in slow motion-yet he couldn't dodge it.
Before Low could reach the first boy, the second whipped his unprotected back.
The blow was so strong that his legs gave out and he collapsed to the side.
- That's what happens to those who don't listen to us! Beat him, boys! - Boy A laughed as the small gang kicked the pretty-faced boy.
- Aah... ngh... stop... damn it... fucking kids...
Low regained consciousness from the pain in his back. After a few minutes, he dragged himself back to his cell.
Under the dim moonlight, he saw that the cell was empty. His jug of water, straw, and cloth were gone. Only the bowl remained.
He carefully sat down, then tried to lie on his side. An hour later, he was freezing. He couldn't close his eyes. Even swallowing hurt. He tasted blood in his mouth.
Remembering the water trough, he painfully made his way there again. Nearby, he saw several children. A boy and a girl were drinking water, beaten and whimpering, wiping each other's backs.
In the corner, he noticed three more. They smelled of death.
- Ah... I'm sorry, Kyla... I- - the boy sobbed, his back turned.
- No... stop... *sniff*... it's okay... - Kyla whispered, gently wiping his back.
- Fucking bastards... - Low whispered.
What the hell is that guard doing?
Sons of bitches...
There was a large barred window near the trough, letting light into the hall. The only lantern was near the guard by the door.
Cells lined the walls, stretching twenty to thirty meters-like lockers in his old college.
Finally, Low decided.
He wasn't a particularly just or brave person. But this was another world, with its own laws. If he kept thinking and acting like someone from civilization, he wouldn't survive long.
Since the moment he arrived, all he had seen was death and violence.
This couldn't go on.
He decided he wouldn't live like this anymore.
He would at least kill those whip-wielding kids.
Maybe it would bring the others a bit of relief. That was all he could do.
He already felt terrible. No one would buy a crippled child at auction. A broken slave was useless. They'd get rid of him.
Tomorrow, it would happen again.
And then he would die for sure.
With no other choice, Low searched the area and found shards of a broken jug. He picked out a few sharp pieces-one tucked into his waistband, another hidden in the folds of his ragged clothes.
He gathered stones, tearing off part of his clothing to make a pouch, stuffing small rocks inside.
Not bad. Enough stones, about fist-sized.
If only there were rope...
Damn, what am I thinking?
Corpses...
No, man. This isn't normal.
But nothing here is.
I have no choice.
- W-what... what are you doing? - a boy near the trough asked.
- Nothing... - Low replied, moving on to the next corpse.
- You... leave them alone.
- Don't, Sean... please... - the girl whispered, trying to stop him.
- They're... our friends, Kyla! - Sean snapped.
- Your friends don't need anything anymore. But they can still help.
Those guys with the whips beat you, didn't they? - Low asked calmly.
- Y-yeah... they did...
Wait-what are you saying? Help? Are you crazy?!
- You want revenge?
I'm going to them. I'll kill at least one.
Are you with me?
Tomorrow they'll do it again.
Can you survive?
Can you protect her alone?
Sean looked at Kyla. Then at Low-just as wounded as himself.
- There are too many of them... they have two whips...
Before he could finish, Low pulled out his makeshift weapon-a bundle of stones tightly wrapped in cloth, tied into a solid knot.
- Look. This is what'll help us.
Then he began explaining the plan in detail.
*****
Author's note:
Sorry for the conf
usion. I used two different terms for the same weapon-slings and whips. I meant that each of the two boys had a whip. It's an effective weapon at short range, but not overwhelmingly so. I'll be more precise next time. Apologies for the mistake.