“For you to be making those kinds of faces, you must think you’re quite the looker, Mr slave.”

I groan.

“...Can I get my phone back?”

Asakawa takes it.

“No, we’ll be using this for further research purposes.” She says as she puts it in her pocket.

Someone save me, please. I need a hero, a miracle, a Meteor. I’ve barely met these people, and they’re already having the time of their lives bullying me. I’m not the guy for this.

This can’t be my role in this world. I didn’t get isekai’d just to become a punchline.

The creaks of the wagon are the only thing that responds to me.

I imagine a smirk on the moon, grinning at my plight.

_____________________________________________


It’s been about another hour, and I find myself nodding off, but every time my chin makes contact with my chest, I feel a jolt of pain.

The other two captors are sitting next to me, playing some kind of board game I’m not sure I can understand. I can feel the bags under my eyes piling up due to the lack of sleep.

“Who are you guys anyway?” I ask, watching their game.

“Ah, dammit it, trap card…” Arivia calls out as she dejectedly stares at the card. She then lifts up the piece that I assume to be her player, and places it two meters back.

“We are a party of individuals that take jobs across Soraya, often specializing in monster extermination, bounty hunting, and jobs of that caliber,” Asakawa replies, rolling a 12-sided dice.

“Event.”

She then pulls a card.

“‘You find yourself on a bridge located in a large ditch. You cross it. Move 4 spaces.’”

“Aw, man!” Arivia pouts.

I perk my head.

“So are you guys like mercenaries? Taking jobs for money?”

“Yeah, I guess you can call it something like that,” Arivia says, rolling her dice. “You really don’t need to know this, by the way. We’re just telling you because we feel like it.”

The die lands. I think it’s a six. The numbers are weird. They're all jagged, like they were etched by someone in a hurry. But upon closer inspection, they vaguely resemble a mix of Latin digits and Japanese characters.

She pumps her fist.

Moving her piece, she continues.

“Sable Veil. that’s our name.”

“Veil.. is that the reason you guys wear those jackets?”

“Perhaps,” Asakawa begins, looking at the now closely approaching Arivia. “However, these are not regular jackets. They are forged by Vavior particles, resulting in a more versatile yet light defense.”

“Then what’s with the armor underneath?”

“You can’t be too secure in just slime armor, as anyone can have anti-armor weapons… something we figured out the hard way. By the way, we’re in the same space.”

She says the last sentence to Asakawa.

“Ah, it's a fight then.” Asakawa declares.

Asakawa rolls first. A ten.

Arivia’s face is trickling with sweat. She’s got one chance and one chance to take victory with her, or else she loses.

She swallows, clears her throat, then rolls.

“Damn it! An eight?! So close!”

She moves her piece four spaces back, looking defeated. I think I even saw her mime a single tear down her cheek. I'm starting to understand this game, but I'm not fully there, given the exhaustion.


_______________________________________________

The landscape around us has turned from a cluttered forest to a flat grassland, with strange cow-like creatures sleeping in the distance.

Various stars blanket the heavens, the white dots contrasting with the splash of black.

In Earth terms, I'd say it's about 12 pm at night.

I try to lie on my side and curl up, but there isn’t enough space in the cramped wagon. Sitting upright is no good either—the collar presses into my neck if I slouch too far.

Still, I try. 

With the other two passed out on the wagon’s top deck, I shift onto my side and face the wall beneath the bench.

I don’t want to see whatever weird sleeping faces they make, anyway. 

I sigh as I take a deep breath. 

I zone out and stare at the wall. When I'm nervous or have a lot on my mind, I'll tend to stare for a while at the subject of my nervousness. Or the alternative, zone out and stare into space. It's a bad habit of mine that's gotten me into trouble multiple times in the past. 

But, wow.

I've been transported to a new world, ran from a kobold, ran into a mimic, and am now getting sent to work as a slave for a group of mercenaries. While a regular person might find these particular events overwhelmingly bad for themselves, I sadly can't say the same for everything for me. 

There's a sense of dread ultimately lingering at the back of my mind, yes, but at the same time, it's a direction I can take that's far better than aimlessly wandering until something else that defies logic comes along and eats me. 

In this world..

Jobs, money, social ladders. Those things don’t seem to be the ultimate measure of a person’s worth. These people roam freely, live how they want, fight monsters, and take odd jobs without the kind of responsibilities that slowly eat away at you over time.

This isn’t reality, it's a fantasy.

And I want to live.

...Not as a slave, of course. That doesn’t exactly fit my definition of living to the fullest. So I’ll escape. The moment I get the chance, I’m out.

That Navi girl used magic, or what I assumed it was. If magic exists here, then maybe—maybe—I can get some kind of ability. Like in those shows. The underdog protagonist who turns out to have a hidden power, some rare trait that turns the tide. 

I'm not a narcissist, but it'd be cool to have that.

After all, that's human nature, correct? We all inherently want something that makes us stand out from the rest. Not necessarily strength, but some kind of quality thing that makes us different. Of course, after witnessing media with that kind of fantasy being granted to a character, one would want to attain this kind of wish. But the coldness of reality often does not allow it to prevail any further.

But even if reality doesn’t often allow that wish to come true…

Even if most of us just end up as background characters in someone else’s story…

The desire still persists.

And it’s okay to want that. To be someone who stands out from the rest. The main character of the story.

Groaning, I turn onto my left, attempting to face away from the wall, given that my neck has begun to hurt.

Maybe… Maybe I can start a new chapter in this world.

Of course, I’m not seeking to work the rest of my life away working for some mercenary group, so I’ll attempt to escape at the first chance I get.

My eyes slowly close, everything turning dark within my vision. The world comes to a halt.

I close my eyes.


Wait, Ow, ow, my arm.
_________________________________________________________

It walks, no directive in sight.

It serves no purpose, just a blight.

Power surges through its veins, a reminder of its strength.

Yet that strength never has a length

It is a creature, dead and alive

Yet possess no drive.

________________________________________________________

“Damn, he’s real heavy, huh?” A strained voice slips into my ear, followed by a crushing pressure around my neck.

My eyes shoot open.

I’m being dragged across the dirt, held up by my collar like a bag of trash.

“Oh, you’re awake!”

The voice belongs to Arivia, her eyes bright.

“..Wha-”

Before I can finish the thought, she lets go.

Thud.

I hit the ground, a cloud of dust kicking up beside me.

Groaning, I raise my head to get my bearings. The sun is out now, casting the sky in a pale blue glow. Clouds drift lazily overhead, scattered and uneven—giving the sky an almost chaotic texture.

Ahead of me stands Asakawa, her body facing towards something in the distance.

The sun is quite bright, causing me to squint ever so slightly. I can make out the object in the distance, yet cannot tell what exactly it is.

Raising my hand to shield my face, I wince.

My jaw nearly drops onto the dirt.

A massive mansion—no, a castle—towers in the distance, nearly blotting out the sun behind it. Tall spires crown its rooftops, each one perfectly symmetrical. The colors are not anything unique, just neutral earth tones, but somehow, that only adds to its otherworldly presence. It stretches out so far, it might cover half a mile in length.

And at the center, a crystal structure juts out like a crown, piercing toward the sky.

Even from here, which is eighty meters out, it still looks colossal.

That’s where I’m going to live?

Hm, maybe being a slave isn’t so bad.

“Arivia! You coming?!” Navi calls from the path ahead, walking up next to Asakawa. The two of them are walking towards the trail leading into the mansion.

“Nah, I’ll stay behind and show him the ropes!”

Ah, that’s right, I’m a slave. Everytime I think about that, it makes me feel like laughing at the absurdity of the statement.

The two companions of hers nod, and continue walking.

Wait, don’t leave me with her.

Arivia crouches in front of me, hands on her knees with a playful grin. “Well, follow me, Mr. Slave. You’ve had a good sleep, so now’s the time to get workin’!”

She stands straight, standing over me, hands on her waist.

Having no choice, I place my hands on the dusty ground, pushing myself up to my feet.

That's when I realize that the pain in my shoulder and arm are gone.

I flex my arm, surprised that it’s no longer mangled.

Taking note of this, Arivia beams, “A messed up arm is nothing a Nymaril spell can’t fix!”

I have no idea what she’s talking about.

A rumble in my stomach rings.

Come to think of it, I haven't eaten anything but a single ‘fruit’ since yesterday. If they expect me to work, I need to be at least half satiated, or I'll risk collapsing and making them lose a potential worker.

“You guys got anything to eat..?”

I get that I’m a slave, but who says even the lowest of people can’t ask for basic amenities? There's a sort of ‘human rights does not apply’ factor, but I'm sure they can make arrangements here.

Before I can think any further…

“Nghh!!”

A shock of electricity shoots through my body, assaulting it.

I can feel the jolt of electricity going through my body like a wave of burning pain.I t feels like fire wrapped in metal I grit my teeth.

Falling to the ground, I’m left a panting mess. Each breath of mine feels like stab in my gut.

My vision shakes as I look up at her.

“You....”

Arivia tilts her head, still smiling, and dangles a small stick between her fingers. It has a wooden button on top.

“This is the first thing you’ll need to learn,” she says sweetly. “That collar around your neck? It’s called an Arc Collar. It sends shockwaves through your body whenever you step out of line.”

“You asked for something without giving anything in return. That’s a no-no.”

She presses the button once again.

I wince, expecting the same pain, but this time, I feel a simple jolt, similar to touching a metal object in the winter.

“That’s a signal for when one of us wants you to help or clean up. I’m not telling you which jolt signifies who, but I’ll provide a hint. It’s numerically coded. If you don’t make it within a certain time limit, no matter where you are…”

She puts her hand close to the button, making me instinctively wince again.

She smiles.

“Don’t worry, I’m not that mean. Now follow me.”

Arivia spins on her heel and starts marching down the path, cartoonishly exaggerated steps like she’s in a parade.

I stare at her back for a long moment.

Then I sigh, stand up again, and begin following her.

Because I have no other choice.

I’m really in danger here. If I truly want to live a life worth living, I can’t risk staying here any longer. As soon as I get the chance, I’m going to leave this cursed place.

Arivia spins around once again.

“...What’s with the tense face? You’ve already got a scary-looking face, so let's try not to accentuate those features, mhm?” Arivia calls, her body facing me.

“Ah, sorry.”

“No matter!”

Our footsteps crunch under the heavy dirt, one of us wearing heavy metal boots while the other is outfitted with regular running shoes. The air is quite cold, giving me the impression of fall. Something that’s quite confusing given the heat of the forest earlier.

After about five minutes of walking, we come across a small barn, not too large, but not too small.

It’s on the verge of collapsing, with a large dent in the middle right of the roof. The wood looks roughly cut and weathered.

Walking over to the front door, something that seems to be on it’s last hinges, Arivia turns the knob. With an extremely concerning creak, the door opens, revealing a terrifying view.

Scattered farm tools cover the ground, rusted and jagged. Wooden stalls line the walls like a cheap horse stable. A pile of hay slumps in one corner, and across the dirt floor are dark brown lumps that I really hope are just clumps of mud.

Seriously, why can’t I get the treatment most servants and slaves in forms of media get? Living inside the main house, a cute owner…

“Stop being so shy and head in!” Navi says, pushing me inside.

I stumble, barely catching my feet. The smell of feces fills my nostrils, presumably belonging to the creatures that lived in this barn. T

Arivia walks in, clutching her nose as well.

“Well, home sweet home as they say. The smell’s quite bad, but I’m sure you can manage, Mr slave!”

“I get the whole ‘sarcastically cheerful’ thing, but you’re on a different level...”

Suddenly, her arm slams into my throat.

I crash into the wall, breath caught in my lungs. Arivia leans in, pressing her forearm against my neck, her body weight keeping me pinned.

“Listen,” she says, voice cold. “Quips like that make it sound like you think you’re above your place. I don’t like that, Slave.”

Her eyes glare into my soul, like a corpse staring back at me.

“We are not your friends. We are not your family. There is nothing between us and you. The relationship between us is like that of a farm animal and a farmer. You are not a person to us. You are to live working, and die working. So, the next time you speak up…”

She lifts the stick in her hand. It's the one with the wooden button, and spins it between her fingers like a dial.

Is… that to increase the voltage?

She hovers her finger over the button.

“I don’t think i’ll have to say it, yeah?”

I can feel my eyes shifting downwards in anger.

I hate people who talk to others simply because of their circumstances. People who, just because they live upstairs, think the people downstairs are inferior to them.

Taking a note of my expression, she smiles.

“Be careful not to say anything!”

Turning my head to the right, I mutter, “Fine.”

She releases her body from mine, standing in front of me. Then she gestures to the entire barn, tapping her foot.

“Your first job, clean this entire barn, head from toe. If I even see a single speck of dirt, there's a shock with your name on it.”

I stare at her blankly.

Then sigh and give a half-hearted nod, my head dragging along like it’s too heavy to lift.

Turning around, she smiles.

“Good luck Mr slave!” She calls over her shoulder.

She then walks towards the door, opening it. However halfway past, she stops.

“Oh—and just so you know. Even if you’re not done, we’ll still call you when we need something. It’s up to you to memorize whose shock is whose.”

The door then closes, leaving me in darkness.

“Bitch.”