Chapter 2 – Buying Beastkin and Dark Elves

Half a month after Count Borick ordered Gaikaku to carry out the subjugation, Gaikaku entered the castle carrying a coffin.

So as not to be seen by anyone, Count Borick visited Gaikaku, and right before the count’s eyes lay the body of an elf suspended in preservative fluid.

“Oh? I can see the face. Handing this over should keep anyone from saying, ‘You didn’t cook up a fake report, did you?’ Quite the trophy…or was your opponent simply weaker than expected?”

“No, no, it was purely good fortune, Count-sama. He blocked every one of our attacks, and just when it seemed we’d exhausted our options, his mana ran dry. As you’d expect from a former knight-order member—his strength was terrifying.”

The important thing here was not to say, I’m a genius, it was a piece of cake.

If he did, the count might take offense and have him beheaded on the spot.

Yet if he said, He was an unbelievable monster, the count would grow sullen for a different reason.

A man with no strength of his own cannot help but envy the truly powerful.

And in any case, the target had been a traitor who’d fallen to banditry. Praising him was out of the question.

“Even so, his end was pathetic. The bandits under him abandoned him, and when he cried for help, not one turned back… In the end he died a common criminal—his talent made his finish all the more pitiful.”

“Indeed! Those who stray from the righteous path die wretchedly no matter how strong they are.”

“Thunk” Count Borick kicked the coffin with a rounded, fat foot.

He was, quite literally, kicking a corpse.

“Power itself isn’t all that important—right, Gaikaku?”

“Exactly so, Count-sama. After all, you achieved justice with your own hands—power is but a trifle.”

“Listen to you, acting as though a dubious fellow like you could ever serve me—how presumptuous.”

His words mocked Gaikaku, but he wasn’t truly angry.

Had he been, he wouldn’t be cracking jokes.

More like, Oh? You want to be my minion? Well, I suppose I can let you dream about it, just a little—that sort of vibe.

“My deepest apologies. Now, Count-sama, about my compensation…”

“Hmph, take it.”

The count plunked down multiple bulging sacks of gold coins.

Even though his face was hidden, Gaikaku exaggerated his delight.

“Ooh, Count-sama, are you sure I may have so much?”

“Of course—you’ve been working hard. Still, you really do love money, don’t you? Have you no shame?”

“None at all. I’m a thoroughly venal man—gold is the only thing I want.”

The count sneered at his blatant vulgarity.

It was so fitting of his shabby appearance it was almost comical.

“Count-sama, I look forward to your continued patronage…”

“Mm. I’ll call you if anything comes up.”

Gaikaku stuffed the hefty gold into a sack with some effort, staggered, and left.

Watching him go, the count burst into laughter.

“Ha-ha-ha-ha! For someone who loves money, he can’t count! Hand this corpse over to the royal family and I’d get ten times that amount! Satisfied with a tenth of the reward—what a worldly fool, blind for the glint of coin!”

In truth, this job had been critical.

Had it come to light, the royal family’s prestige would have suffered.

But it was dealt with beforehand, and even the corpse-evidence was delivered.

For that, he could expect ten times the gold he’d just paid out.

And the man who’d made it happen walked away content with pocket change—how could he not laugh?

“Such is the way of the world: the truly precious things are bloodline and office. Whatever scheme he used to smite evil—the cream belongs to his betters.”

I’ll keep using him as long as he’s useful.

Jiggling his flab, the count laughed heartily.

※

Leaving by the back gate, Gaikaku handed the sack of coins to the ogre girl waiting there.

He pulled back the hood that hid his face and strode off, head high.

The ogre girl looked after him with a complicated expression.

“Boss—how long’re we gonna keep takin’ orders from that tub of lard? I hate bein’ that guy’s underling!”

A brutally honest—no, flat-out stupid remark.

Anyone overhearing might agree…or explode at her insolence.

If the man himself heard, she could end up dead.

“Hey, hey, don’t call him fat. That’s mean.”

“But still—those elf girls fight so hard usin’ ma-ma-magic, and he’s the one gettin’ praised? Makes my skin crawl…”

“Come on, that’s just a bit of pomp. Kinda cute, really, compared to that washed-up elf.”

“Even so…shouldn’t we be gettin’ a way bigger cut?”

“You just don’t get it…”

Gaikaku slumped his shoulders in exaggerated exasperation.

“Tell me—if we carried that elf corpse to the royal family ourselves, you think we’d get paid?”

“…They’d kill us.”

“See? If it’s a posted bounty, sure, but that’s dynamite. Only someone noble like Count Borick can touch that kind of job.”

If some nobody showed up with the corpse of a secret target, it would make the authorities nervous.

It wouldn’t be strange if the state decided to quietly dispose of them.

“But…isn’t he still skimming off the top?”

“It’s fine. We’re still way in the black. Besides, we need Cash-cow-sama even fatter. If we bankrupt our patron, we go down too.”

For this job alone, the count took nine parts and Gaikaku’s crew one—a lousy split.

But that was only this job; overall, Gaikaku’s side was rolling in profit.

And all that money ultimately came from the territory’s coffers; if the count overspent and went broke, Gaikaku’s people would be out on the street.

“A relationship where both sides are rubbing their hands together—ain’t it lovely?”

“Boss…why don’t you make a name for yourself? You’re an amazing mag…magician-sama, aren’t you?”

“I keep telling you, I’m a magus. And the reason is simple—everything I do is highly illegal.”

Gaikaku grinned wickedly.

“Your Cultured Muscle-and-Bone Reinforcement Armor, the Fresh Golem, and the Composite Mana Artillery Tower, the Demon Tower, both break every rule in the Magus Code.”

“R-really?”

“Yep. Take the Fresh Golem: cultured muscle covered with hide. If efficiency were all that mattered, you’d graft living human or ogre muscle—”

“Eek!”

“Scary, right? It’s banned precisely because it can be done. Same with the Demon Tower—I give the elves mana-recovery potions once they’re drained, but I could chain a human or elf in place, use them as ammo, and then toss ’em aside. Considering potion costs, that’d be cheaper.”

Hearing the horror story, the ogre maiden trembled.

It was pure nightmare fuel.

“I live for weapons development, and testing them in combat is fun—but I don’t actually want that future. That’s why things are perfect as they are. Got it? Then let’s move.”

“Honestly, I don’t really wanna go. Bad memories there…”

“Ha-ha-ha! Can’t say many people like the place.”

Some things are illegal because they violate ethics.

Yet even within the legal, there are acts that clash with morality.

Slavery and the markets that sell slaves are prime examples.

※

Slavery.

Debating its justice demands caution.

Even the status of slave differs from country to country.

Lumping it all together isn’t productive.

Still, no one forced into bondage ever thinks, “I’m glad I became a slave.”

They bear society’s inconveniences and curse their lot.

And in most cases, a slave has little value.

If they had skills worth hiring, they’d work for wages.

Those who can’t end up as slaves.

“Sigh…sure is lively.”

“Yeah—an ugly sort of lively.”

An open slave market operating within the count’s domain.

Several slavers had formed a consortium and rented the land from the lord; countless human lives were bought and sold there.

Humans, ogres, goblins, harpies, merfolk—every race imaginable was put on display and sold to interested buyers.

Smaller dealers lined up modest tents, but the “big companies” owned auction halls like opera theaters.

A truly malicious public market.

Needless to say, ordinary folk didn’t come sightseeing.

Respectable citizens frowned at its proximity and kept their children far away.

They even warned them: “Go near there and you’ll be snatched, worked, and never see home again.”

“If you hate hanging around, let’s finish up fast.”

“Right…”

The ogre with Gaikaku had herself been bought here.

Lingering too long made her fear she’d be taken again.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have brought her here, but every one of Gaikaku’s subordinates had been purchased from this place.

“So—the usual spot?”

“Yeah. Imagine having a regular slave dealer.”

An outlaw magus spending a lord’s reward to legally buy slaves at a public market.

Could a story get any nastier?

“…I really don’t wanna go in.”

“What if I get kidnapped? Stick close.”

Gaikaku always shopped at a single stall.

As he said, his go-to place.

From their side, he was a prized customer.

Inside the tent was one huge cage, crammed to bursting.

Even among slave pens, this one was rock bottom.

“Hey, shopkeep. How’s business?”

“Ha-ha-ha! Oh, it’s you! Been waiting—honestly, you’re the only one who buys from us again and again!”

“You tell that to every customer, don’t you?”

“No, really—the place is dead! Look, you’re the only buyer here!”

The proprietor himself looked a step from slavery.

Skin-and-bones, rags for clothes—one might mistake him for a slave.

“Is that so… If you fold, I’ll be in trouble. I’d have to find another shop.”

“Then buy! At this rate I can’t even feed myself, let alone the slaves!”

(He should switch careers…)

If you ignored the fact it was slave trading, the banter was almost charming.

To the captive ogre, both men were villains mid-crime.

Yet the atmosphere was as casual as buying vegetables.

“So, what’s today’s recommendation?”

“Dark elves—just your type, and cheap.”

Inside the lone cage sat a pitiful group of girls.

Black-skinned elves—in other words, dark elves.

Every one of them female.

Outside of “night work,” male slaves were generally more valuable.

Since slaves were mainly for physical labor, strength sold.

Female dark elves were so worthless they were “priced below cost.”

“Hm…”

“Just so you know, dark elves don’t have extra mana like elves. They’re about average. Their strong points are agility and sharp senses…”

“Come on, that’s scant info for your merchandise.”

“Only ever seen ’em inside the cage.”

The ogre girl pitied them.

The ten or so maidens stared with eyes devoid of hope.

They probably hadn’t been kidnapped—they’d been sold by their own families.

Because they were “useless.”

“Fine—buying the lot.”

“Much obliged!”

He took the asking price—hardly a shrewd purchase.

Even so, ten dark elves cost next to nothing.

At another shop he couldn’t have afforded even one.

Sighing, the ogre thought of her own past.

“Also…not exactly a recommendation, but I’ve got maybe ten beastkin kids…”

“Not a recommendation?”

“Yeah…every one of ’em’s rebellious.”

Beastkin: fur-covered limbs and animal ears.

Like ogres, they were physically gifted but mana-poor.

Ogres excelled in strength; beastkin in speed.

Their stamina wasn’t great, so as plain labor ogres beat them.

Useful—if they obeyed.

“Seems their tribe lost a feud; the winners sold them to humans. They won’t mind.”

“And you’d still sell them to a customer?”

“Told you—not a recommendation. I’ll cut the price. Do ’em a favor and buy, eh?”

Looking again, a sturdy, shaggy child glared back from the cage.

Gaikaku pondered a moment.

“Actually, that could work.”

“Really, sir?!”

“I need motivated recruits. I’ll pay fair market value.”

“Bless you…”

“Like you ever planned to discount them.”

“We’re broke, okay? Te-he.”

Gaikaku surveyed the dark elves and beastkin anew.

His smile was plain, overflowing with confidence.

“I’m Gaikaku Hikume—a magus.”

For a slave with no freedom of choice, the only hope was a good master.

Whether he was good or not was unclear, but he was certainly not ordinary.