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Chapter 8
There were many aspects of this world that clashed with my values, and one of them was slavery.
People here believed in a hierarchy of status between humans. Because of that, it was only natural for some to start treating people like objects.
“Stop it!”
I shouted in anger, and only then did the slave traders look at me.
“What are you?”
They shamelessly looked at me with visible relief. A young girl alone, huh.
Suppressing my disgust at their pathetic prejudice, I walked down the stairs.
“That’s what I should be asking. This is my ship.”
“A girl is piloting a ship alone?”
“I never said I was alone.”
At my words, the men flinched and began whispering among themselves.
For a moment, I seriously considered throwing them all into the sea. But I held back, reluctant to use magic in front of strangers.
Once they got off, I’d have to heal that poor enslaved man anyway.
Thinking that, I waited for them to disembark—but one of the burly subordinates hoisted the man over his shoulder.
“Hey you bastard, let’s go back and talk.”
“Put him down.”
“What?”
“He’s coming with me. You lot are the ones getting off.”
“You’ve got some nerve, girl. You’re fearless.”
As if his patience had snapped at my words, the man who seemed to be the leader raised his hand threateningly.
“Want to come down with us? I know a place that teaches girls like you a lesson.”
If he had just hit me, I might’ve tolerated it.
But this insane bastard not only stroked my chin in a lewd way, he scanned my body up and down.
He was clearly looking at a young girl’s body.
“You’re acting bold because you think you’ve got backup, huh? What now? There’s no one here. Even noble ladies who act all high and mighty can’t be found once they fall into our hands. I’ll personally ‘educate’ you first. I know very well how to handle arrogant young ladies.”
“…I really can’t adjust to the values of this world.”
“What did you just say?”
This world had no concept of protecting children.
Having always despised criminals who abused children in my previous life, I finally felt my rationality snap.
“Don’t do it. He didn’t do anything wrong.”
A voice squeezed out with effort stopped the slave trader.
It was the enslaved man.
It must have taken all his strength to speak, but people like this wouldn’t stop just because of words like that.
The subordinate carrying him punched him hard in the stomach.
“Ugh.”
Blood splattered across the deck again. He was probably just an extra who would never even get a name.
And that applied to him, those trash, and even me.
But unlike them, he was risking his life without even knowing what kind of existence he was, trying to change his fate.
Even though nothing would change.
Even six years later, when the real story began, slavery still existed.
The sunlight shimmered on the fresh wounds of the slave man. Despite his limp body, his eyes gleamed brightly under the sun.
Those emerald eyes seemed to be saying something to me.
The fringe world of the main stage. A place the creator of this world doesn’t care about.
Maybe I can do whatever I want here.
At best, we’re just background props for the protagonists’ romance. There’s no need for them to faithfully endure suffering roles.
Just then, a loud splashing noise echoed.
“Damn it, boss! Macrodons are coming!”
Macrodons were shark-like monsters sensitive to the smell of blood. Even a single drop would attract them instantly.
It seemed they had been drawn by the smell of the enslaved man’s blood again.
Panicked, the men cursed while hanging onto the deck. The leader shouted at his confused subordinates.
“Anyone know how to steer a ship?”
My existence had already been erased from their awareness. Shamelessly, they were discussing my ship as if it were theirs.
“Don’t touch my ship and get off.”
“You annoying little brat… running your mouth like that.”
The leader grabbed my neck and lifted me.
He truly seemed intent on killing me, his arm trembling from the force.
But when my expression didn’t change at all, he frowned in confusion. Then he looked down at his feet.
There was no solid deck beneath him—only the blue sea and Macrodons surging to devour him.
“Ughhh!!! What is this?!”
“This is what I call special education for rude people.”
I returned the “special education” he kept bragging about.
His face turned pale.
“Boss!!!”
His subordinates, still hanging onto the deck, also turned deathly pale.
“No! No!!”
They clung to the railing desperately, but soon they were flung beside their leader. They fluttered above the sea like soap bubbles.
The enslaved man seemed to think I might throw him too, so he gripped the railing tightly.
“Personally, I think people who harm children should die in the most painful way possible. What do you think?”
“…Are you asking me?”
“Who else would I be asking?”
At his dazed reply, I frowned.
If it were me, I would’ve immediately said “please punish them.”
But he seemed cautious, silent for a long time as if trying to understand my intention.
Well, that made sense. If this happened all the time, he might not even know what was wrong anymore.
I added an explanation.
“If we let them go, they’ll ruin many people’s lives.”
“I will follow your will.”
Only then did he answer, as if he finally understood.
“Then you decide.”
“Me?”
“Yes. I’m not trying to save you. I’m punishing criminals. For that, I need the victim’s consent.”
Now I could see him more clearly.
His clothes were ragged and soaked dark red with blood. His swollen eyes bore deep purple bruises, and his arm—burned as if with a hot iron—oozed fluid.
It was disgusting. Not the man—but this world’s values.
Even after everything he had endured, even after escaping just to survive, he still hesitated.
A deeply ingrained slave mentality held him back.
The shameless slave traders shouted at him.
“Hurry up and answer, you bastard!”
“Are you just going to watch someone get killed?!”
The man slowly stepped forward and looked straight at them.
Then he extended his arm over the ship’s edge and squeezed his wound.
Fresh blood dripped down.
Drawn by the scent, Macrodons leapt from the water. The splashing noise tore through the air.
His dry eyes turned toward me.
“Please… kill them. Painfully.”
* * *
Beyond the horizon, a red sunset sank into the sea. It was so overwhelming it made my chest tighten for no reason.
Philip, hugging his knees, felt something strange.
Freedom. The freedom he had always wanted—but it felt wrong.
It was as if he had been suddenly thrown into the world, and an unbearable anxiety pressed in on him. The emptiness chilled him to the bone, and without realizing it, he rubbed his arm.
“Ugh…”
In doing so, the burn marks on his arm reopened and blood seeped out again.
“I told you I’d treat it.”
A clear voice came from beside him. The girl was lying on a wooden sunbed, a cloth covering her face.
Philip quickly turned his head forward again.
Who exactly was she? She seemed terrifying… and also kind.
Those people deserved to die, but their end had been horrific—so much so that even he had to shut his eyes tightly.
And yet, despite making such a terrifying decision, the girl acted as if nothing had happened.
“Aren’t you hungry?”
“I’m fine.”
“Don’t lie.”
“I really am fine.”
The girl sighed.
“I can’t get used to this. Why are you like this…”
She trailed off and stood up.
“Do you like meat? Seafood? Vegetables?”
“Huh?”
“…Did your ears get hurt too?”
She carefully studied his expression, her worried gaze tickling him strangely, making Philip avert his eyes.
She walked into the cabin.
“Come in.”
At her words, Philip quickly stood and followed.
It was a cabin with a large glass window, a table, and a wooden bathtub. The strange combination of a kitchen and bathroom made him flinch.
The girl even took ingredients from a shelf above the bathroom.
Food… comes from there?
Strangely, cooked dishes were already inside the shelf. A steak plate with roasted tomatoes and asparagus came out.
“Sit.”
She placed the plate on the table, and Philip quickly obeyed.
“Do you drink? Wine? Juice?”
As she tied up her long white hair, she looked at him with a slightly irritated expression.
Afraid she’d scold him again for not answering, he quickly spoke.
“W-wine.”
Ever since his family fell, he hadn’t even tasted alcohol once. Yet the habit of asking for wine still felt ridiculous to him.
For a moment, he remembered his childhood—reading books with his father in their study.
His father, who had tried to advise Count Girion to save the territory’s people, was killed by him. And overnight, he and his mother became slaves.
“Good answer. Sit. Let’s eat.”
