The Freed Slaves Are Obsessed

A distinguished guest had arrived at the Reaper’s Trading Company.

It was a delegation of dwarves from Doomheim, visiting to discuss the city construction project.

“It’s been a while, Slave Reaper.”

One of the Seven Meisters.

Turntuga, Guardian of Steel, greeted me.

“It’s good to see you, Mister Turntuga. Have you been well?”

“Of course.”

“Nothing unusual?”

“More dwarves have begun to travel, thanks to you opening the skies.”

The cowardly dwarves who once hid in underground cities to avoid the Dragon’s gaze—

Now that the dragon was defeated and the sky laid open, many had surely begun venturing above ground.

Still, I doubted their work would differ much from Doomheim.

They’d probably set up a forge in some town, hammering away at steel while waiting for someone to use their weapons.

Turntuga looked around the room and, upon spotting Ashes, beamed with a wide, toothy grin. He dropped to one knee before her.

“Oho, Princess. So you were here after all. I’ve been longing to see you.”

“Tutu...”

“It’s Turntuga, Princess.”

She got the name wrong, but Turntuga didn’t mind at all. He seemed simply grateful that Ashes remembered him at all.

“You must be tired after such a long journey. Please, come in. We’ve prepared a meal for your arrival.”

****

The hall, usually quiet with casual chatter, had become lively and boisterous.

Giant barrels of ale were stacked along one side of the room. The tables were loaded with dwarf-favorite foods, almost to the point of collapsing.

The dwarves tore into bread and meat with unrestrained hunger, downing tankards as large as their heads in a single gulp.

“Ahhh~ That hits the spot! Refreshing and delicious! Every dish here is exactly what dwarves love!”

“One of my slaves went out of her way to prepare this after hearing you were coming.”

“A very courteous woman. Not quite on par with our princess, but she’s a real beauty too. She’d make a fine wife.”

“You flatter me.”

Narsha bowed her head shyly.

Our Narsha really is competent. Aside from her occasionally sharp tongue when irritated, she’s nearly flawless.

The dwarves rapidly emptied their plates. Watching them, the elves nearby muttered disapprovingly.

“Such uncultured creatures.”

“Eating so messily in front of our master without an ounce of etiquette. Disgraceful.”

“This is why you can’t trust moles.”

The blatant insults, spoken right in front of them, didn’t go unnoticed by the dwarves.

“Slave Reaper, I like the food and drink, but these elves are ruining my appetite. Would you mind getting rid of them?”

“We’re here to make sure you don’t pull any stupid stunts in front of Master.”

“Hmph! You think we don’t understand how elves like you think? You look down on humans, don’t you? So of course you must think your master is beneath you too!”

“Watch your tongue! He is our Master. He is not like the countless humans scattered about—he is far above them!”

Neither side backed down, the two races growling at each other like snarling beasts. Clearly, neither had proper table manners drilled into them.

“The dwarves here are my guests today. Insulting my guests is the same as insulting me.”

“T-That wasn’t our intention...”

“Raise your voices any further, and I won’t tolerate it. Leave now.”

“...We’re sorry.”

The elves bowed their heads and left the hall, their faces gloomy.

“Khuhuhuh. Seeing those long-eared grumps sulk makes the drink taste even sweeter!”

“You too—do not speak to my slaves so carelessly.”

“Are you scolding us guests now, Slave Reaper?”

“The more you do, the worse it’ll be for Miss Ashes’ position here.”

At that, the dwarves exchanged glances, suddenly cautious.

“We can’t let our princess suffer because of us...”

“Mmgh... We’ll be more careful.”

Only then did things quiet down a bit.

“Come now, everyone. Don’t hold back—eat and drink all you like. There’s still plenty of food and ale.”

****

A small-scale interspecies conflict had just come to an end.

The dwarves who came with Turntuga were temporarily confined to the guest rooms, while Turntuga himself was escorted to the VIP chamber.

“I heard the general gist of it. You're planning to build a city?”

“That’s correct. I intend to rescue many slaves from across the world, but this place alone is far too cramped.”

“Indeed. And since different races have different living conditions, you’ll need a place tailored to them.”

“We need a city where the slaves can live comfortably.”

A city with a district for elves, another for beastkin, dwarves, and all other races.

A city where all the beautiful slaves could live together in harmony—just imagining it made me giddy.

“But building a city won’t be easy. Setting aside capital and manpower, you’ll also need permission from the human king.”

I was so caught up in the idea of becoming a tycoon, I hadn’t thought that far ahead.

Do I have to go to the king, get a title, and ask for land? I’m a slave trader—would he even grant it if I asked?

“Lin says no. Why should Master need permission from a guy like that?”

“I agree with Lin this time. The idea of Master bowing his head to someone is unacceptable.”

The slaves immediately and fiercely objected.

Then Narsha offered a suggestion.

“Then why not establish a neutral nation instead?”

“A neutral nation?”

“Yes. A country where only Master’s slaves are allowed to live. With members of every race gathered together, there’s a strong justification.”

“Isn’t that even harder? Not only the Kingdom of Traul, but other nations would also need to approve.”

“Which is exactly why it’s easier. In front of the majority, minority voices are easily dismissed.”

She had a point.

Hilde, the acting queen of Bestia, and the Elf Queen were both my slaves. So was the Saintess Elise. Only Doomheim wasn’t under my thumb.

Ashes might be treated like a princess there, but technically she’s still an outsider.

“You don’t need to worry about Doomheim. We dwarves don’t forget our benefactors.”

Even Turntuga, one of the Meisters, gave his word.

Bestia, the Great Forest, the Holy Kingdom, Doomheim—they’re all on my side. I had no reason to watch anyone’s back anymore.

“Very well. Then let’s build a nation of the slaves, by the slaves, for the slaves.”

****

From that point on, Narsha led the meeting in my place.

The rough city design incorporated the preferences of the slaves.

A residential area suitable for elves.

Housing and workshops for dwarves, even though I didn’t have any dwarf slaves yet.

Beastkin varied so wildly by individual that their needs required extra consideration.

Once the basic framework was outlined, everyone shared their individual wishes.

Elise requested a grand cathedral and an orphanage.

Mirabel wanted research facilities for mages.

Narsha asked for a library.

Lin and Arpia had no specific requests.

“And you, Miss Ashes? Is there anything you’d like?”

“...Pretty. Like a fairytale.”

“Hohoho. Worry not, Princess. We’ll give you the most beautiful kingdom in the world.”

Finally, it was my turn.

“First, we’ll need a large public bath for the slaves to recover from fatigue, then a casino—because I get bored easily. A swimming pool, a maid café, and a racetrack, plus...”

I started listing off my bucket list—the things I’d always wanted to do if I ever became a tycoon.

“You’ve been holding back on a lot, haven’t you, darling?”

Of course I had.

Back then, freeing the slaves had to come first. Even /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ when I had things I wanted, I bit my tongue and let them go.

But not anymore.

Now it’s time to collect my reward.

And so I kept adding more to the wishlist.

“That’s everything I want.”

“...Sorry. I lost track partway through. Could you say that again?”

“I’ll write it up and give it to you later.”

“Oh, thank you, Narsha. You really are thoughtful.”

Turntuga had been jotting things down on paper, but then let out a heavy sigh.

“The remaining issues are money and manpower. Where and how will you get the materials to build this city? Do you even have the resources? Even if you do, labor will be a problem. We dwarves will lend a hand, but that alone could take ages.”

“Hmm...”

“Well... I mean, we could just build it with magic...”

It was Mirabel who timidly spoke up.

“We can create building materials with magic, and we can build with magic too. Of course, for finer details, doing it by hand might still be better...”

There it is.

The good old "magic can do everything" argument.

If they can create entire worlds with magic, building a city isn’t out of reach.

“But won’t that hurt the global economy?”

“If we sold the materials, it would definitely harm industries tied to construction. But if we only consume them ourselves, the impact should be minimal. However...”

“However?”

“The real problem comes after the city is built. The scale will be massive, and I can’t predict everything—but the global economic center might shift. The ripple effect would be enormous.”

“Hmm... I don’t really want to see people thrown out onto the streets.”

I couldn’t even imagine what might happen. Normally, this is where you’d stop and reconsider... 𝓯𝓻𝒆𝙚𝒘𝓮𝙗𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝒍.𝙘𝓸𝙢

“Is this something you really need to worry about, Master?”

“If masses of people lose their jobs or society collapses, that’s bad, isn’t it?”

“That’s even better for us.”

That devilish line came from Elise.

“We’ll need slaves to live in the city anyway. So why not take in those unemployed people and turn them into slaves?”

“Huh?”

“We’d be taking in those who need care. Master gives them purpose, they become slaves—it’s good for them, and good for us. Everyone wins.”

Are you a genius or a monster?

How does a person even come up with that?

‘Well... it does make sense.’

Give them the sickness, sell the cure.

If it causes problems, just take responsibility later.

“Very well, Mister Turntuga. Let’s proceed.”

****

“You said you had something to discuss privately. What is it?”

After the meeting, Turntuga approached me discreetly.

He made sure no one else was around, then spoke in a low voice.

“I noticed you have a lot of other slaves around you...”

“That’s right. They’re all my precious slaves.”

He didn’t look pleased. What was this about?

“Well... I was wondering if you could pay a bit more attention to our princess. As you know, she’s extremely shy...”

No way—was this a backdoor request?

Even so, I’m someone who dreams of becoming a kind, ethical slave trader. My motto is to live with integrity.

“I’m sorry, but I cherish all my slaves equally.”

“It’s nothing much, but... a small token of appreciation.”

Turntuga handed me a pouch.

It had a nice weight to it.

Inside were all kinds of gems.

“Magical jewels crafted by Torvar himself. Touched by a Meister—they’re worth whatever price you name.”

“Phew... I don’t usually accept things like this...”

I glanced around to make sure we were alone—then slipped the pouch into my coat.

“When someone pleads sincerely, ignoring them would be rude, right?”

“It would anger the earth itself.”

“Leave it to me.”

“Thank you.”

It was just too much money to turn down.