The Lazy Boy Is, In Fact, the Strongest and Most Brutal Assassin. - Chapter 13: And So, The Girl Fell.

And So, The Girl Fell.

(…Green.)

That was Shia’s impression of the room she had been shown into.

The walls were covered in green fabric, with the morning sun streaming in diagonally from the east, casting the shape of the window onto the fabric. The shadows of the window frame danced on the stone-paved floor, creating shifting parallelograms.

In the center of the room stood a small table with two chairs. Shia sat in one, while the other was occupied by a woman quietly seated across from her.

The woman wore a white robe with a deep hood, casting her face in shadow as she looked down, her expression hidden except for her mouth.

Unable to endure the long, tense silence any longer, Shia instinctively lowered her gaze. The woman then quietly spoke.

“I’m not saying this to upset you, but you should reconsider.”

“Am I not worth anything as a slave?” Shia replied, her voice trembling.

“It’s not that, my dear. I’m concerned that you don’t fully understand what it means to be reduced to slavery.”

The woman’s tone remained calm throughout, her voice gentle and warm, with only slight variations in pitch.

“Do you really grasp the meaning of having someone else hold the power over your life and death?”

“I-I intend to understand,” Shia stammered.

Yes, she intended to understand. She had come prepared, determined to sacrifice herself for her brother’s future. Yet, when the question was posed again, her body shook as if her teeth might rattle.

“Labor might be the least of your worries. If you’re bought by the wrong man, you could be toyed with, killed for amusement, or even subjected to worse fates. Have you really considered all of that?”

“Yes,” Shia answered shortly, her lips tightening.

“Aren’t there people who will mourn you?”

“There are people who will cry for me… I believe there are.”

For a moment, Rimirimu’s tear-streaked face and Il’s exasperated expression flashed through her mind. It surprised Shia that even though she had only known them for a few days, these two came to mind during such a moment.

“But… I want my brother to be happy,” she added.

The woman let out a small sigh.

“Very well. I will buy you.”

The woman’s name was Kurikara, a wealthy individual regarded as one of the prominent figures in the city of Saint Togan, and a slave trader.

“Silver Cat!”

“…Yes?”

When Kurikara clapped her hands, a voice came from behind Shia.

Startled, she turned to see a boy standing there, despite having thought she was alone. He had striking silver hair and timid eyes, and his terrible slouch gave the impression that he was perpetually hunched over. Shia instinctively recoiled at the sight of him.

“Prepare the contract,” Kurikara ordered.

“It’s already there,” the boy replied.

He pointed languidly at the table. When Shia hastily looked over, she saw that a parchment had been laid out on the table without her noticing.

Shia’s eyes widened in surprise as Kurikara chuckled softly.

“Now, my dear, the moment you sign here, you will cease to be a person and become nothing more than a commodity. So, I thought it best to exchange some words with you now. This is your last chance to turn back.”

Shia swallowed hard, the sound echoing in her throat.

“If you sign here, I will ensure that the money reaches your brother. I swear it in the name of Kurikara. And I will also guarantee that you will cease to be human. This, too, I promise in the name of Kurikara.”

At that point, Kurikara paused, as if waiting for Shia’s reaction. Shia felt her gaze probing her, and with a small sigh, Kurikara continued.

“Once the signature is complete, you will be fitted with a collar of servitude. From that moment on, you will willingly accept any command from your master. If told to spread your legs, you will do so; if ordered to serve in a lewd manner, you will comply; if commanded to bear a child, you will obey. And if told to die… well, you will do that too.”

Her words carried an unsettling resonance. It felt as though she was somehow trying to dissuade Shia from her decision.

This was far from the image of a ruthless slave trader that she had heard about.

Yet… Shia had already made her choice.

She would descend as far as necessary.

“…Please. Buy me.”

Kurikara’s small sigh seemed to bounce off the walls and roll across the ground.

That was the impression she got.