Free Isekai Reproduction Life with an Endangered Demi-Human Onee-san in the Forest of Certain Death ~My Mental Stat Is Pathetically Weak, But After Transferring, I’ll Live for Myself This Time~

Chapter 94: Which Slave, Which One?

Purifying the slum spawned fanatics. I fled back to the orphanage, but they chased me, demanding baptisms. Karin, the OG fanatic, reined them in, but my heart’s scraped raw. Escaping to Sandria, Silvia called me a lolicon. Rough day. Thanks to Karin and Sandria’s (lovely full-body centipede hug), we cleared the misunderstanding.

“What conditions does Karin want for the slaves?”

I’m walking with Bestelta and Karin to the slave trader Roi recommended. My upgraded Language Comprehension skill lets me read his map. Putyuera’s staying back.

“First, they must be kind to kids.”.

Makes sense—orphanage workplace, non-negotiable.

“Anything else?”

“Well… cooperative people would be great.”

True, they’ll live together in the dorms. Noted.

“Bestelta, you?”

“Me? I don’t get this ‘slave’ thing, but they’re protecting Karin and the kids, right? Strength’s key.”

Good point. Combat experience is a must.

Alright, let’s focus on:

Kind to kids
Cooperative
Decent strength

We visited a Merchant’s Guild-approved slave trader. Honestly, it was more legit than expected.

I pictured slaves with no rights, scarred from abuse, hating or despairing everything. But the ones introduced here weren’t like that.

“It used to be so, I hear,” says Madame Django, the slave trader. “But under the first Solreon king, slave laws changed, improving their treatment.”

Madame Django, flanked by a boy and a buff male attendant (whose butts she’s groping), is a flamboyant okama with a Heart-sama vibe and a mochi-like build. Soft-spoken, great voice, but definitely an okama.

Other traders were okay but arrogant or pushy, even with Roi’s letter. They panicked when I left—maybe it’s standard haggling? If so, my bad.

“Wow, really?”

“Indeed. Our slaves are taught basic manners, some get extra education, and we provide food, clothing, shelter. Some even beg to stay.”

Like a Japanese temp agency—training and dispatching workers. So, Japan’s work environment is barely better than this world’s slave market? Hilarious. Not really.

“Are there slaves matching our conditions?”

“I hope so.”

Karin’s got a sharp eye for slaves. She rejected one for “stinky breath.” Poor guy was crushed. I felt bad but stayed quiet—kids come first.

“We source from across the continent: various races, ages, backgrounds.”

That’s impressive. Transporting people must be tough with all the dangers.

“That’s amazing. Magibeasts, bandits?”

“We have skilled bodyguards.”

Smooth answer.

This world runs on might. Strength equals money. Simple.

“Our unique strengths ensure satisfaction. Your wife will approve.”

“Kei-sama, this place is trustworthy.

Whoa, too easy, Karin. Madame, don’t target her.

Calling them “products” gave me chills. But you can’t run a slave trade with soft feelings. I’m here to buy, so I’ll drop the half-baked humanism.

“Great. I’m counting on you.”

“Leave it to me.”

Madame Django’s fleshy frame jiggles as she smiles confidently, groping both guys’ butts. A shiver hits my groin.

“What’s the purpose?”

Asking purpose, not conditions—thoughtful. Conditions are faster, but this digs deeper into needs. This place is a gem.

“It’s a bit sensitive, so I can’t say much…”

“This shop has soundproof magic, and these slaves are bound by contract magic not to leak talks. So am I.”

“Contract magic?”

“Yes. Breaking it causes intense pain, then unconsciousness. Repeated attempts mean death.”

Scary. Reassuring, but a bad contract could end you. Good to know.

“Thanks for explaining.”

“No trouble. Now, the purpose?”

I answer Madame Django’s thorough questions: kind to kids, combat experience, cooperative. No race or gender limits—Geos would probably hate discrimination. Preferably young, but ability first.

“I see. Those conditions are tough for other shops, but I have candidates. Please wait.”

She heads to the back.

“Will they find someone?”

“Probably fine.”

Madame’s got that pro vibe.

The boy slave offers snacks. Tasty.

“Kei-sama, here they are.”

Madame Django returns with several men and women, all collared.

“Based on your purpose, I narrowed it down. I believe any will satisfy, but it’s about chemistry. Ask away.”

She steps back. Unlike other traders who pushed their picks and ignored us, she’s different. No wonder she’s guild-approved. Other places must be wild. Thanks, Roi—saved us time.

“Let’s hear your introductions.”

I prompt them, starting from the right.

“Introduction?”

A girl with cow-like horns steps forward.

Maybe I wasn’t clear.

“Tell me about you—name, age, race, past jobs, skills.”

“Got it!”

“Maia Bezuna, 19, Bovine Tribe! Great at heavy lifting and housework!”

Nice, Maia-chan. Super energetic, and her cow-sized chest is… great. Full of charm, likely good with kids and cooperative. No combat experience, though—can she fend off enemies? Heavy lifting might help, and housework is a plus; Karin’s swamped. Good start. Keeper.

“Argalo Markul, 23, Lizard Tribe. Fought in the Northern War. Played with village kids. Good at fishing.”

Adult Lizardman, huh? Huge, sturdy, cool scales. Lizard face, but not scary. A bit gruff, maybe just after Maia’s energy. Played with kids—neighborhood bro vibe. Northern War? Fishing’s… meh for now.

“How’d you fight in the war?”

“Raged on the front lines.”

“In a unit?”

“Nah, others slow me down. I fight alone.”

He puffs his chest proudly.

Hmm, tough call. Strong, no doubt, but no teamwork? A guard charging solo could endanger allies. Pass, but maybe growth potential? On hold.

“Next.”

“Luna Kress, 27, Hyena Tribe. Slave soldier. Looked after siblings. Can handle most things.”

Luna speaks flatly. Her name sounds fancy, but she’s Hyena Tribe—kemono fans would love her 6:4 beast-to-human ratio. Hyena snout, human eyes and body, blue-tinged hair with a mane down her back, spotted arm fur. Wild, overflowing chest, barely contained by her slave clothes. Not great at talking about herself—low emotions? Cooperation issues? Too plain. On hold.

“Next.”

“Shazus Pinky! 16! Halfling Tribe! Was a G-rank adventurer! Love kids ‘cause they’re cute! Can sing!”

Halfling… short, so probably a dwarf-like race? Gender unclear—girl, maybe? Energetic, great voice.

“What role as an adventurer?”

“Mostly mid-guard! Helped front with a spear or supported rear. Can use a bow!”

Impressive. Mid-guard needs quick thinking. Sharp, agile, perceptive. Ex-adventurer’s a plus—could teach the kids (and me) adventuring basics.

“How big was your party?”

“Five! All Halflings, super fun!”

No mixed-race party experience? Risky.

Few downsides, though. Near the top. Her singing’s great—mood-lifters are valuable.

“Next!”

“I’m Halcrift, 32, Human Tribe. Was a bodyguard in the capital. Used to lead slum brats.”