By the Grace of the Gods (LN) - Volume 7 - Chapter 20

Chapter 5 Episode 20: The Beast Within

Selecting our candidates took no time at all, owing to the meticulous organization of their “resumes” that allowed us to pick out those that met our requirements through little more than a cursory skim. That being said...even though we had only pulled out those that strictly met our requirements, we were still left with a pool of over fifty candidates. I would have loved to narrow them down more...

“If I may be frank...they’re all very similar.” Most of them had tried and failed to make a career out of adventuring. Otherwise, they had accumulated debt from some terrible mistake.

“Most people in the world who have combat skills are adventurers. Some have experience as bodyguards, but they only acquired that position through proving their mettle as adventurers.”

“I see...” I muttered. I was stumped on figuring out the next criteria to narrow them down. “Any ideas, Mr. Fay?”

“Tough one...”

“Have you ever had anyone work under you?”

“Sure. But I’ve never had a choice in the matter like this. I just trained the ones that came. Those who don’t listen, aren’t cut out, or are inconsiderate won’t be there at the end.”

“Is that so...?” I wondered if they wouldn’t be there because those attitudes were quelled during training, or... I decided not to dwell on it, and concentrate on the task at hand.

I expected a little bit of sugarcoating when it came to the descriptions of the candidates’ personalities, but assumed that they would be more or less accurate. The customer was sure to find out sooner or later if a slave was oversold to them, and I doubted that a business which stooped to that level would earn the approval of Reinhart and the others. I was looking for someone to guard the shop, after all, so I decided to focus on combat strength, first and foremost. Just by selecting the candidates with scores of three in combat skills, we narrowed the pool down to twelve candidates. “Looks like differences in a single level can narrow them down a lot.”

Moulton chuckled. Did I say something funny?

“Pardon me,” he said. “True, skill levels are increased through considerable training and experience. Increasing a skill by a single level usually takes a few years, and they become exponentially more difficult to raise. At a certain point, it could take decades of pursuit to reach the next level. Therefore, the difference in skill level signifies a clear-cut difference in their prowess. At the very least, if fighters with equal weapons faced off mano a mano, the one with the higher skill level would most likely emerge victorious. Of course...” I didn’t grasp what he meant by this follow-up for a second. “The difference between levels 2 and 3 must seem insignificant to you, Mr. Takebayashi.”

“What do you mean...?” I asked, and a thin smile stretched across his face. At the same time, I sensed the tension rise among the rest of my team.

“You are also an adventurer, Mr. Takebayashi. A highly talented one at that. Not that I was ever that great at fighting... To be truthful, I have been looking into you for a while now.”

“Looking into me, you say? I suppose my name’s gotten around, then.” It didn’t seem like Moulton had anything to hide based on unprompted admission. “May I ask why you went through the trouble?”

“I have several reasons. For one, these three gentlemen, as well as Lady Glissela, have become your patrons. Any businessman with a certain degree of influence has heard that much, as that information is being subtly passed around through the Merchant’s Guild. Secondly, you were someone whom I wanted to keep an eye on, for the sake of my business. Your slime-based cleaning business is rather unusual... Unprecedented, rather. Starting any business, with or without precedence, can be risky. Our inventory includes quite a few individuals who had failed to start their own business.”

Apparently, this was why he kept one eye on new, eye-catching, or declining businesses. He added that he didn’t really expect me to fall too far, given my backers...

“My third reason is simple; you piqued my interest. Who is Ryoma Takebayashi? Examining your connections and new business was only a part of searching for an answer.” I felt the most pressure from the third reason, despite it being the most straightforward.

“After research, you think that level 2 or 3 ones are no match for me?”

“I’m certain of it. You first began revealing your strength when you took on a hunt in the northern mine... I heard you joined in with an army of extremely rare slimes that wield weapons. Despite it being your first hunt on record, you joined an E-rank team. The previous day, you had single-handedly taken on a sinister group of adventurers who decided to pick on a child. One of them—a C-rank, at that—was taken down by you in the blink of an eye. Oh, you must be wondering how I got all the details... That C-rank adventurer found his way to me. He was registered as a criminal slave—sentenced to slavery as punishment for his crimes.”

“I wasn’t aware of that. Small world...”

“Indeed, it is... He was sent to a coal mine soon after registration, but I had a chance to speak with him in the few days he was here. When I asked him to describe his defeat, he said that he didn’t know what had happened, and that he had been defeated before he knew it. His Skill Board showed a level 3 Battle Axe skill. I’m generalizing, but that means he was a confident fighter. Considering that he was taken out in an instant, you were far more skilled than him. No amount of underestimation on his part could account for that. In fact, a mere victory against this man was an assurance of your skill set, to a considerable point. Oh, which reminds me of another story...”

Excitedly, he continued to retell one account after another. Most of them were rumors from Gimul, but he included the story of the festival and how I played instructor for the new recruits. Apparently, I had made quite a name for myself as the adventurer with weird slimes...

“I also heard that you dabble in bounty hunting. You’ve bested the infamous Melzen of the Red Lance, not to mention your victory against a group of fifteen knaves. Oh, yes. Mr. Fay was with you for that one. I’ve heard you’re quite the fighter yourself, Mr. Fay.”

I wouldn’t have been surprised if this stalker of mine knew what I’d had for breakfast that morning. I cleared my throat rather theatrically.

“Oh! Pardon my rambling. Once I get started...”

“I can’t say I’m not impressed by your thorough research...”

“Not nearly as thorough as I would prefer. All I was able to gather were accounts postdating your first accomplishment in Gimul. All I managed to find out about your life prior to that was that you were living, almost in hiding, in the Forest of Gana. There are no traces of you before that, as if you simply materialized into the forest one day. I have much to learn.”

He would have blown my socks off if he had traced me further back than that. Was this the side of Moulton that Reinhart and the others were concerned about...?

“I simply loved listening to the slaves and customers, ever since I was a mere child... Men or women, children or elders. Human or beastkin, elves, dwarves, dragonewts... Those from all walks of life, and all species. We are all different in so many ways. What goes through their minds? How have they lived their lives? I can’t help but want to learn about them... Oh, some people have inferred a sexual implication when I say this, but that is unfounded, I assure you. Not that I discriminate against anyone I sleep with based on gender or race.”

Who the hell asked you?! And why did he bother clarifying the “sexual implication” bit?! I mean, there wasn’t much I could say about consensual relationships among legal adults... I guess one could say he was fine with anyone (or anything). Come to think of it, I shouldn’t have been surprised with any sexual preference, given my familiarity with the fetishes prevalent in modern Japan. From cat ears (and other animal-type ears) to French maids and tsunderes, these were all commonplace. Digging a little deeper, one would find plenty of material to do with cross-dressing or straight-up BL, and I once even saw a fetish that involved robot girls. Personally, I had nothing against any sexual preference or orientation. I mean, I’d have to politely turn down anyone who had their eyes on me in that manner, but live and let live, I say.

Orest Moulton...he’s all right. I had reached a conclusion in my mind. Was it this side of him that my team was worried about? I was struggling to get a read on him...

“If I may continue to be candid...what are your combat skill levels, Mr. Takebayashi?”

“It’s not your job to find out everything about Ryoma, is it, Orest? He isn’t a slave,” Pioro, who usually maintained a happy-go-lucky attitude, declared with solemnity. True, asking that question wasn’t exactly professional of him...

“Thank you, Mr. Pioro, but it’s all right.” There was something about Orest... I had the impression that he was simply curious, and never shied away from satisfying his curiosity. I didn’t get the feeling that he was sussing out intel to use against me or anything. His mask was off; in fact, he’d practically tossed it out the window, but now that he had revealed what was underneath...

I felt a strange sense of familiarity, unlike when I thought he was just a polite young man. “Putting my own feelings aside, he wouldn’t do anything to lose your good graces.” Maybe it was my own curiosity taking control, but I wanted to put myself out there a little. I turned to Moulton, and showed him some of my stats. “My mains are sword mastery and unarmed combat, both at level 7.”

The room fell silent, and the tension in the air turned palpable, mostly because of the three adults who must have been feeling like they were co-parents to me. They were all waiting in silence, while Serge alone was sweating bullets. Fay, sitting next to me, sipped his tea without a care in the world.

Moulton was staring at me with surprise, having been taken aback by either my stats themselves or my cavalier attitude toward sharing them with him, but his interest and excitement were getting the better of him.

“Level 7? I hadn’t expected them to be that high.”

“I could just be kidding, you know.”

He chuckled. “You can say some frightening things with a straight face.”

We stared at each other without relenting. How was he going to take this?

Would he take my word for it, or call me out as a liar? I certainly wasn’t telling any lies, so I just stood there calmly.

“I assure you, regardless of any financial backers, I would never misuse any of my clients’ personal information. Besides, I may very well be the one who gets burned if I were to try anything,” he added in an amused tone, still completely comfortable with himself. “In that case, I’m sure level 2 and 3 individuals seem inadequate.” He was apparently taking my claim seriously, but he also looked more concerned than he had been all meeting.

“Is something wrong?”

“Excuse me for a moment...” He stood up and soon returned with a new bundle of papers. “I must point out that the slaves on this list are distinct from our usual lineup.”

“How so?”

“Unlike those on our main registry, these may be unable to perform manual labor. They may be too old or too young. Many of them can’t utilize their full potential because of an injury or illness. I don’t usually recommend anyone from this list to clients, but I do have one slave in here who is a level 5 swordsman.” Orest flipped through the pages as he talked, turning the file my way after opening it to the page of the slave in question. “Ox Roade, aged 37. He is an ox beastkin with a level 5 skill in dual-wielding...”

His stats were impressive, but the document also described in detail the reason he was on this particular registry. Apparently, he was raised in an orphanage until the age of fifteen, when he entered a training center for gladiators, who fought each other for show. He quickly became successful, and spent his twenties as a famous gladiator. Early in his thirties, he had won a top-tier tournament... Then he wounded his left hand in a match. The injury itself seemed minor, until the pain worsened, forcing Ox to amputate it at the wrist. There was an annotation that described ox beastkin as a burly and muscular race. Gladiating was a popular career choice for them; many ox beastkin gladiators could wield heavy armor and weapons with ease. Ox had specialized in dual blading, a style that leaned toward quick flurries of two swords, but he didn’t waste his strength, either. His specially made, extra-heavy pair of swords allowed him to unleash devastating onslaughts of exceptional power and speed...

“A one-handed dual-blader. Naturally, he can’t fight like he used to. But, he can still swing one sword, and has bested another slave with level 3 skills. His background as a gladiator means that he has plenty of combat experience. In fact, I usually have him train with other slaves skilled in combat. I’m sure he can be of assistance to your instruction, Mr. Fay.”

That might do the trick for a shop guard. If he can teach tactics, this could be an investment... But I found myself looking at the note that said he had a strong attachment to his swordsmanship. And his price was 8 million sutes, marked up from the rest on the list. What was that about? I asked Orest directly about it.

“It must be an expression of pride, in some way. He’d made a living out of nothing but his swords. Even after losing a hand, he still trains every day. His dire request is to be sold to a master who needs a good swordsman. And before the amputation, he had bought some time to look for an alternative treatment by applying a rare magical medicine.”

“Bought some time... Halter?”

“You’re familiar with it. That’s correct.”

Halter was a magical medicine that, as its name suggested, halted wounds from worsening. Instead of disinfecting or healing the wound, it simply maintained the wound as it was, as if time was frozen for it. As mysterious as it was, it did exist in this world...though it came with a very high price tag.

“He had considerable savings after his career as a famous gladiator. He couldn’t let it go, even after he’d spent all of his savings on the medicine. He racked up loans, which led him here. He’d sold his estate and everything in it as well, except for his swords.”

“He didn’t sell them?”

“Yes. He adamantly refused to. I’ve tried to convince him otherwise, but he threatens to choose death over letting go of them.”

“That’s extreme...” I was starting to get a little nervous, but I had the feeling that maybe he’d be a good guard.

“He may be stubborn when it comes to his swords, but he is rather reasonable otherwise. We have observed through his training of some of our slaves that he has the sense of responsibility to perform tasks assigned to him to the best of his abilities. As for the price, of course I’ll take into consideration that this is your first transaction with us, Mr. Takebayashi, not to mention the recommendations of these valued customers. In addition, we do offer installment plans. In any case, there will be no charge until you’ve signed a contract. Why don’t you keep him as one of your candidates and see how things go?”

“I’ll take you up on that.” We were going to see the others in person anyway. Another candidate couldn’t hurt, but I wanted to circle back to narrowing down the general pool a bit more.

“How to narrow down your candidates... If I may be blunt, you should choose women who are ready and willing to engage in sexual activity,” Moulton said with all sincerity, which knocked the wind out of my sails.

“I’m sorry, we’re not looking for a slave to—”

“Which is precisely why I have mentioned it, Master Takebayashi! In fact, I don’t recommend purchasing a slave to anyone who is only looking for sexual companionship. With that kind of money, one should simply go to a brothel, which is much safer and less messy. There are some women who, in attempts to repay their debt and regain their freedom as soon as possible, reluctantly agree to provide sexual services. But they have a tendency to become reckless upon being purchased, and to be violent when push comes to shove. Not that all female slaves have this tendency, but these women do not have the resolve to sell themselves to that length. On the other hand, women with proper resolve have most often worked at a brothel to repay their debts before entering slavery. Moneylenders tend to be more lenient to those borrowers, and it often isn’t impossible for them to completely repay their debts on a prostitute’s pay. Not to be crass, but some people don’t care how the woman looks as long as she’s good between the sheets, and the lenders are better off if they can get a steady income of interest payments.”

I just sat there listening. I thought he was joking, but Moulton had jumped into a passionate monologue. His tone kept jumping from one extreme to another.

“Orest. Don’t you think it’s a little too early to introduce such a topic to Ryoma?”

“This is a perfectly serious topic when it comes to the process of purchasing a slave, especially considering this will be Mr. Takebayashi’s first slave. Even if something were to happen in the future, when he enters a sensitive stage of his life, there won’t be any repercussions, legally speaking, as long as he has the enslavement contract. Of course, Mr. Takebayashi seems mature for his age already, and I doubt that he would ever use his position to make advances on women... But there have been scandals where those who worked alongside the slave had dipped their quill in the company’s ink, so to speak. While I don’t recommend purchasing a slave for the primary purpose of sexual exploitation, I must strongly recommend that you choose a slave with clear expectations of that nature, in order to prevent any legal scandals,” Moulton fervently continued.

Even as Serge and Pioro joined in, Moulton remained in his position, flip-flopping between earnestness and aloofness. He continued to mix in comments amidst our deadpan conversation to knock us off of our feet.

It was painfully clear from his sober stare, which betrayed his teasing tone, that he was trying to get a reaction out of me all along...