When the Serial Killer Next Door Gained Harem System

The guard on the ground twisted my arm behind my back. Before I could react, he pulled a length of rough rope from his saddle and began tying my wrists tightly together. I didn’t fight back, what was the point? Running would only make it worse.

"Sir, I swear I didn’t know," I tried again. "Please..."

"Shut it. You’ll be thrown in the dungeon for this," he muttered, finishing the knot with a hard tug. "You’re not even in class at this hour... and you’re wasting the time of Kinola’s guards."

"Oh, come on..."

"Shut it!"

Once my hands were securely bound, he took the long end of the rope and mounted his horse again. With a light kick, he started moving slowly down the dirt road, forcing me to walk behind him like a prisoner on a leash.

The other guards fell in behind us, hooves clopping steadily. The woman with the bow kept scanning the treeline, still half-expecting an actual ambush. Every few seconds one of them would shoot me a dirty look, clearly pissed that their emergency response had turned out to be nothing more than a clueless newbie playing with fire.

I kept my mouth shut and focused on not tripping.

"Ah, fuck me..." I muttered under my breath, stumbling to keep up. "Just what I needed... damn."

ꨄ︎ꨄ︎ꨄ︎

The city gates creaked open, and the horses moved forward. So did I, as if I had any real choice in the matter. The guard in front kept a firm grip on the rope tied to my wrists, pulling me along like a disobedient dog. Wow. I’d dodged cops back in my world for all kinds of "different reasons," but I never imagined I’d end up thrown into a dungeon over something this stupid. Oh, boy. I really was an idiot.

People on the street stared as we passed. Some whispered among themselves, heads close together. Others didn’t bother hiding it, they openly glared and cursed under their breath. "Outlaw scum," one older woman spat. "Another troublemaker wasting our guards’ time." Damn. They probably thought I was some dangerous criminal. Just my cursed luck.

"Sir," I tried again, keeping my voice low. "Please. This is a misunderstanding..."

"Keep moving," the guard muttered without even looking back. "I’ve had enough of this crap today."

Talking was pointless. He was dead set on dragging me to the dungeon. Well... at least I’d have a roof over my head tonight, right? I didn’t have enough coin left for another night at any tavern anyway.

We kept walking. The curses kept coming. My legs were killing me. I’d walked so much today that at one point I completely zoned out, maybe twenty minutes? Or more? Surely I wasn’t that out of shape. This had been one hell of a tiring day, trying to adapt to this strange new world.

"Captain Tornhawk," the guard announced. "Sir."

"Huh?"

Peeking from the side, I saw a sturdy carriage with a heavy iron cage built into the back rolling toward us. Two additional riders flanked it. On the left was a woman with a massive greatsword strapped across her back, her posture straight and alert. On the right rode a man in heavy gray armor with black finishing along the edges. His helmet was closed, but I could see a thick, dark beard spilling out from beneath it, and his shoulders were broad enough to make the plate look almost too small. A long scar ran down the left side of his neck, disappearing under the armor. He looked like someone who had seen, and survived, far worse than this.

"Who is this?" the armored man asked, his voice deep and commanding as he looked straight at me.

"An idiot, sir," the guard holding my rope replied. "We caught him throwing fake help signals. Guess he was having fun in his own way."

The captain, assuming his name was Tornhawk, moved his horse in front of the carriage, forcing it to stop. The four guards escorting me halted as well.

"Get him here," Tornhawk ordered. "He’ll join the rest."

"For The Circle?" the same guard protested. "Sir, he’s just a kid. And his crime isn’t that serious..."

"Get him in the cage," Tornhawk repeated, voice flat. "I won’t say it again."

"O-of course, Captain."

The guard dismounted, drew a small dagger from his boot, and quickly cut the rope binding my wrists. Before I could even rub the raw skin, he grabbed my shoulder and marched me toward the back of the carriage.

And, oh fuck.

Inside the cage were four people, two men and two women, all dressed in dirty white rags. Their wrists were chained directly to the bars, and their faces carried the hollow, hopeless look of people who had already given up. Were they prisoners? Or just unlucky souls rounded up for something worse? It was hard to tell.

A loud clink echoed as the guard snapped a heavy iron manacle around my right wrist, then locked the other end to one of the cage bars. The chain was short, just enough to let me sit but not stand fully upright.

"No, no, no," I muttered, panic rising. "Please, we can talk about this..."

"Shut up."

He shoved me inside the cage and slammed the door shut with a heavy clang, locking it securely. I scrambled to my feet and grabbed the bars, staring at him through the gaps.

"Where am I going?" I asked, voice cracking. "Why... where?"

"The Circle," he replied, already swinging back onto his horse. "Whoever gods you were blessed with... I pray they help you, kid."

The four escort horses moved past us. Captain Tornhawk nudged his own mount forward, and the carriage lurched into motion. I was headed for The Circle, the same place Dierthen had warned me about. This wasn’t looking good.

Shit.