The Freed S*aves Became Obsessed

Chapter 1

“Well, well, look who it is! The infamous Karamir, the Slave Hunter with no heart or soul!”

“Good to see you too, Mr. Bolt. I had a feeling you’d be here.”@@@@

“Of course! Every slave trader worth their salt would be here for the biggest event of the year—the Kingdom’s Slave Carnival!”

The Slave Carnival. The largest slave auction in the Kingdom of Trawl, held only once a year. It features an array of rare and unique slaves that can’t be found anywhere else. Traders, nobles, and even commoners flock to the event, turning the auction into something of a festival.

“Let me give you an insider tip,” Bolt whispered. “They’ve got a pink goat beastkin on the block this year.”

“Is that supposed to be exciting?”

“You must be new to the business if you don’t know! The flesh of goat beastkin is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced—soft, chewy, absolutely irresistible.”

“I see...”

“Judging by your lukewarm response, you’ve never had the pleasure. Well, take this chance to get one! Trust me, once you’ve had a taste, no other species will ever satisfy you again.”

Bolt, with his crude advice, hurried off toward the auction hall, blushing slightly as he disappeared from sight. I shook my head in disbelief.

“Good grief. People like him... They should aspire to be a righteous slave trader, like me.”

I sighed, shaking my head, when I accidentally bumped into someone—a muscular woman. The collar around her neck was a clear indication that she was a slave. She had been carrying a bag of groceries, which spilled across the ground from the impact.

Though she was a slave, I didn’t care about her status. I apologized politely, as any gentleman would.

“I’m terribly sorry, my lady. I wasn’t paying attention.”

“What the hell? Do you think an apology is enough? What am I supposed to do now? My master is going to— Wait... black hair, black eyes? No... no, no, no! You’re the Slave Hunter, Karamir?!”

“Haha, yes, I’ve been called that.”

Her face turned as pale as a ghost, and she immediately threw herself onto the ground at my feet.

“I’m so sorry for bumping into you! Please, punish me however you see fit, but spare my life!”

“Haha, what kind of gentleman would I be if I trampled a lady?”

“A g-gentleman? Gentleman, gentleman, g-gentleman, no! A-a-ack!”

She began frothing at the mouth and fainted on the spot.

The only silver lining was that I had a full year to prepare for the main event of the game: the Slave Carnival.

The Carnival was essential. If I didn’t buy the key slaves from the storyline and raise them correctly, I wouldn’t be able to meet the requirement to return to my world: “Liberate all the main slaves.”

But gathering enough money in just a year was a monumental task.

I started by taking on small jobs at the inn to save money. With that meager amount, I bought some beastkin slaves, creatures considered to be lowly animals by human standards and often treated poorly. These broken slaves were cheap and ideal for quick profits.

I fed and treated them, raised their value, and then sold them back to their homeland in the Beast Kingdom of Bestia, earning rewards for liberating them. After repeating this process, I slowly accumulated enough money.

By the end of the year, I had saved a small fortune: five thousand gold coins. Enough to buy the first key storyline slave, with some to spare.

But along the way, my reputation had plummeted.

People had started calling me "Karamir, the Slave Hunter."

Why?

The reason was simple. I had bought countless slaves, but not a single one stayed by my side. To others, it looked like I was using them up and discarding them. In reality, I had liberated them, sending them back to their homeland. But of course, no one knew that.

It was fine, though. The beastkin had thanked me as they left. That was enough for me. No one had been truly hurt.

Now, with my preparations complete and a valuable item in hand, it was time to move on to the main episode.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are nearing the end of this year’s Slave Carnival, but the excitement is higher than ever!”

The announcer shouted into the magic microphone as the final few slaves were sold off.

By the way, Bolt ended up buying the pink goat beastkin he mentioned earlier—turns out it was a male. His new name? Furry Bolt.

“And before we get to today’s main dish, allow me to introduce the appetizer!”

The spotlight clicked on, revealing a young girl standing on the stage.

She was small, barely reaching 150 cm, with wavy hair as dark as the night sky and deep blue eyes. Dressed in little more than rags, her thin limbs indicated she hadn’t eaten properly in a long time.

The moment I saw her, information about her flashed before my eyes. I recognized her instantly.

Mirabel, the Abandoned Witch.

She was the first of the main storyline slaves.