City of freedom and merchants, or the capital of chaos and decadence.

That is the word that stands for the city of Canales, the free city.

Located at the roots of the peninsula in the southern part of the continent and occupying the main impulse of the Grand Canal, Canales gathers a variety of objects from all over the country using water transport.

Gold coins, gems, ingredients, weapons and protective equipment, and people.

The kind of people who visit this city is a thousand different things. Merchants for trading purposes or sailors carrying goods. Nobility in other countries looking for rare goods. To the adventurers who stop by in search of the great work that Alliance headquarters turns, even criminals who are chased through the country to seek refuge in the Dark City. And, of course, slaves.

Dooe Schwartzer, the man who sold his soul to the devil for sparing his life, came to the city to buy slaves. A slave who, like himself, makes his life, not even his will, give to the Lord.

"... Hmm. Looks good inside, too. How much?"

"Hey, husband! That's a great buy! Is this the tenth person? Great, I studied a little... how about this?

When Dooe pointed at the eye-catching, magical boy, the slave trader showcased the amount as he stood. When I think I've rubbed my hands, I quickly play the Abacus bead. It's a clever thing, even with a merchant in the neck, an adventurer might serve in the Ranger position.

"Well, that's a lot of discount. It would be good. Hey."

Fly directions to the slaves with your own - borrowed, to be exact - refraining behind your back, whilst admonishing thoughts that are not even foolish.

"Ha. We're ready"

A butler's clothing slave offering a bag filled with silver coins with respect.

When the contents were removed and hung on the scale to check the weight, the merchant repeatedly scowled.

"Yes, indeed.... hey, the customers are splendid! I can be honest in my dealings in addition to buying this at once. I hope you will continue to enjoy it."

"You want to. Can we go on? Raw Hate, it's just a little more foolishness."

In the words, the slaves in the cage rise up. Literally a mountain. How many slaves? I'm not a legitimate buyer no matter what you think, such as buying a lot of that stuff. I guess I'm frightened when they take me to a farm feed or a mine, or someplace I'm not busy either.

(Well, are you a definite buyer)

To the look on the faces of the slaves, Dooe leaks a bitter smile.

Turius Shrounan Ovenil. Makes the slave market in Brosenne notorious [Slave Killing]. If he finds out they're taking him to such a man's territory, he could kill himself on the spot if he's weak-minded. Most of all, the slaves who are sold out here have no reason to know.

"Customer, by the way. Interested in auctioneers?

Unexpectedly, the slave trader turns to the water so.

Auction - it was an unconcerned invitation. The competition to let multiple participants compete for value and sell slaves would certainly buy good quality slaves. But being traded on such occasions is probably a slave for night games. The instruction of Turius Ovenil is to have a good number of slaves there with the magic and able to be an alchemy assistant. It would be the pinnacle of stupidity, such as offering a high price and buying a woman who just looks good.

"I'm sorry. You can't imagine this glitzy way of talking, can you? Me, in the Lord's name. Join the competition on your own."

"No, no! Rather, it is for the Lord's sake! Your husband, I see you as a noble man who can buy all these slaves at once. For those of you... right? In addition to the workers, I also knew that slaves of appropriate value would be hired."

It was an inviting complaint that made me laugh out of the blue.

A slave of worthy proportions? Turius, who would put a collar on a [silver wolf] of that name, even if he bought enough slaves to be hung by the competition now, would be disqualified. Products such as those comparable to that, whether or not that's what comes out even after repeated root digging and leaf digging all over the continent. Even an elf's slave says five or six people can't make up for each other without a hug.

Merchants who have no reason to know about it are eager to call on them to participate in the competition.

I thought I'd say no.

"Because I just look! You know what? I'm not even telling you to drop it! Plus, we'll be done before this outlet closes!

When this is sold in, even this one is hard to say no.

And I also recall that Turius allowed me to buy a woman.

After that, he said his head would snap.

"Ma, if you say so much, hey..."

I didn't decide to compete. I'll just see what I'm told. I'll have to put on the face of a merchant who might make me look like one in the future. In some cases, you could try dropping about an affordable woman.

"Really! Here you go, then!

A merchant walking out first while rubbing hands. And while walking with him, Dooe sees B-01's face following him. I had expected it, but there was a puppetless expression there.

"Is there a problem?

"No. From the Lord, nothing"

They seemed to have nothing to do with it.

So you're saying the word "you can buy" in the ovenil is literal?

Speaking of which, I've been busy with women for a while. When it comes to women who have met recently, they are about slave maids with the same Lord. No matter how good it looks in there, it's a stuffy thing.

- It would be nice if the sunshine didn't sneak in and make expensive purchases.

Dooe shrugged away her insatiable desires and self-control and tightened her mind.

"- Eh, here's the product that went on!

When we arrived at the venue, the auction had already begun. Touched that she was sold as her biological daughter, and her well-known daughter is being auctioned there.

"Gold 50!

"60!"

"75!

"... 100!

The sloppy men, without even hiding their downward caring desires, are put on board by the instigation of the MC to hoist their values.

Dooe felt herself rapidly whitening.

The prices raised by the men around them are by no means high, even if Dooey thinks from the range of budget given. But it was a ridiculous sum to hang on one woman. Considering how much gear you can get with that money, it's not very much but I'm not used to putting it out.

If you pay to satisfy your desires, it's cheaper to go to a whorehouse, or you can entertain them. No matter how long it takes you to equip yourself with the skills to reach one end of the hooker, even if you make your own daughter's slave. Or maybe that's what I'm looking forward to being a guest here, but it was a value I couldn't agree with for Doue. Occasionally, the touchdown woman who is good at such exercises is also put up for sale, but she just doesn't feel like throwing a lot of money at the woman to hold her.

And I think. It even comes with the hassle and expense of how to treat a woman. That's not what I was able to say about the oven. Certainly such places are similar to the Lord's. When did the [Silver Wolf] stand out as firing a target?

Several slaves were sold when they were hung up in the competition. Where the village is the most intelligent, the daughter of the Chamber of Commerce that crumbled last month, the poor baroness's courtier, the sex slave wholesaled by a woman who has a reputation for her mastery of planting... none of which snaps her forefingers.

To such a doue, the merchant who invited him laughs bitterly.

"Guest, you will be chosen inside. So your husband has fat eyes?

"I guess..."

Reply thinking of the faces of the maids who serve the ovenil. We talked about buying it from young people based on magic, but I don't think they looked so bad at all. Besides, it is Ale who is always beside him as the head of the slaves. Honestly, slaves to the extent that they can be bought with some money will not even be able to rise to the mound of battle.

Now you might want to get out and start looking for your assistant slave again.

It was when I thought so.

"So here's the product that went on! This one, slightly scratched but very rare!

"... Wounds?

I feel something hooked into the moderator's words. Normally, it is customary for slaves who can be hung for competition to remain intact. It would be natural to be cautious about imitating things that would lower the value, because the purpose is to show a beautiful face and let the customer hoist the value.

What does it mean to hang it on the competition while it's hurtful?

The doubt cleared up as soon as I saw what the product had been put out.

"Ho..."

"Cheng Cheng..."

A surrounding guest leaked a convincing sigh.

A woman who resists each time while being pulled on a chain that leads to the collar and is forced to rise to the altar. Silver hair, brown skin, amber eyes. The fleshy was superior, called a limp back, a twitchy chest exuberance, and the possessor of a body that seductively stirred passion. And most of all, the pin and the sharp, pointed ear shape...

- Dark elves.

Unlike the white elves that live in the woods, the long-lived subordinates who conquer deserts, rocky mountains, etc. It is also despised as a wicked fairy to the devil clan because of the colour of his skin, but there is nothing. It's just that humans say that for convenience because it's easier to hunt than elves hiding in the woods.

"Oh no, you have a flashy scratch... but the sub is expensive, let's get the buyer even with this kind of scratch"

As the merchant put it, the dark elf was scratchy. It's called a defiant attitude when it comes to being pulled out, and perhaps, it was also badly rammed during capture. Fine scratches that linger on the hands and feet, marks of rounded, raised arrow wounds on the shoulders. Extremely facial. Traces like he was slashed with a blade running from his forehead to his left cheek, and a bandage instead of his eyelid covers one eye. Whether from the size of the wound or from the fact that the scar is largely blocked, the left eye that should probably be underneath it, seemed not to be safe.

Subhuman slaves are expensive. Elves and dark elves in particular. Although it is originally an eye-catching product that adorns the auction tri, it is likely that it will be served some earlier in this wound.

"So let's start with - 300 gold coins!

Cheap, Douhe glanced. No. Still expensive as a slave, but it should be as expensive as the castle stands by itself. Where there is enough scratch to lose one eye, the elf-borne sub is worth it. Excellent as a mage from high magic, Elf as a hunter and Dark Elf as a wildfire with excellent ranger skills. Besides, I realize it's a long life, so unlike humans, it fades. He said it was his way of thinking as an adventurer.

It is the merchants or nobles who gather here, and that is also the majority who are looking for women. It is slaves with excellent colour that they slap large sheets in those places. The dark elves on the stage do have a neat face, but the scratches are too conspicuous. The price would be greatly reduced. Besides, excellence in magic means that it is also easily resisted by the magic of obedience that binds slaves. I don't know when you'll be scratched in the neck if you get all those wounds and don't hide your enemies for humans. To hold it safely, you may need an extra expensive restraint courtesy. As a female slave, it means that the buyer's mouth has become a narrow commodity for a long time.

That's to the extent that even the gold that Dooe was brought on today can be bought.

"320"

"330!

"350!"

Food lovers are what they are, and some customers are all starting to raise their hands. After all, most of them filled their eyes with an abusive light.

Long-lived species. Those who continue to live for as long as man is old, decaying, and decaying, retaining his luminous youth. There will be no more hateful creatures for those who have possession of wealth and power. To denigrate, disgrace, and shake the slaves… to make them the object of such distorted desires, hit them. From the owner of such a hobby, he might consider some scratches to be among the foils as well.

(But you're a long-lived subhuman)

immortality, and longevity. One goal of alchemy. An unparalleled race that has been remitting its accomplishments since its birth. If a boulder kills you, you die, and there seems to be a curse of longevity, but it's still closer to eternity than humans.

Maybe it shines a glimmer of light on the Lord's research.

"... 500."

For the first time since entering this venue, Doue's hands were raised high. A merchant standing next to him rounds his eyes. A man enslaved as a squire is unresponsive.

The surrounding guests squirm. This is where the lovers of things stacked ten, twenty pieces at a time, little by little. Wow, my gaze was killing me - I was curious, and that turned into a neglect and scorn.

I guess not because I can't. Dooey dresses like a warrior, even if he dresses up in this city to negotiate business, but he doesn't look fancy or noble. Besides, it is the first face in this auction. So the adventurer who fulfilled the expensive request got lost because he felt bigger... I guess he gave that impression too.

"Huh.... 1000! In gold, of course!

A merchant-style man declares, revealing his derision as well.

- A thousand gold coins. It's not silver, let alone copper coins. Can this pay you? [M] Don't ruin the competition, I'm pulling in silently......

That would be the intention. I will give one constraint to the countrymen who squeeze disproportionately in unfamiliar places. So let's satisfy ourselves.

It hurt a little.

"What a 1000 gold coins! Double the amount! No other customers!?

MC's slave traders sprinkle with excitement and dew.

Hearing that somewhere far away, Dooe leaks a laugh of self-derision. What, am I mad? Looking down on you by some ugly, belly-stained merchant? Like a human being a dozen years ago? I didn't expect you to be scorned and angry while selling away your pride and soul in exchange for your life!

Did you accept the bitterness as a declaration of defeat in the midst of light, and the competition makes you look satisfied? Seeing it, his grin deepened into a fierce form.

(What the fuck am I mistaken for)

Doue's belly has been decided. I originally had a big idea and I didn't participate, but I can't help it if this happens. How many times do we have ahead of us, such as when long-lived species are put up for competition at a price we can reach?

- And I'll do it.

Resolutely, raise your hand again.

"1500!... Kindly none. I've known it since the beginning."

I slightly regret sending a flush at him provocatively and then adding what I don't need. This will also make the opponent firm. I still have a lot of room on my budget, but now how much is eating me down?

"I'm out, 1,500! Don't you have one!?

"Guru......! 1800!

"2000."

"... 2200!

The tension decreased. After this, are you refraining from shopping too big?

In view of that, Dooe thinks briefly.

Is it up to you to make up your mind?

"3000"

- Zara...... eh.

A twist wraps the venue. Even though it's a rare subhuman, do you want to put that much out on such a wound? What kind of drunken hobby is the motive?

Some confusion mixed with fearful objects wraps up the entire venue.

"3000 is out! It's not 300, it's 3000! Don't you have one!?

"... get along nicely!

The middle-aged, merchant-style man who was competing said so when he breathed heavily out his nose.

No matter where you hear it, you are a loser.

"It's settled! Dark Elf Slave, your customer has won the bid!

"Grungy...!

A toothed auctioneer man. A glimpse of mockery pierces his gaze from everywhere as he competes and loses to the newcomer, the man who lacks any indication of gold. It was unsolicited. When Dooe raised his hand to five hundred gold coins, he said he was pointing that at us.

I didn't feel like I won. It is a battle that was more someone else's purse than it was originally. Instead, I even feel sorry for myself somewhere. These days - it's been a streak of this since I took Turius' hand. Is there going to be a sunny day for that one day? As long as he's alive?

With that in mind, I turn my attention to the slaves I have raced down. If nothing happens - of course, that's impossible - you'll surely outlive yourself, to a long-lived creature.

Dark Elf slaves have returned a cold gaze, not just to know or say.

"How will it be, Master Dooe? Your husband gave you a budget, and now you're almost out."

There is no blame for the voice of B01. I'm asking you purely what you're going to do.

By the way, I don't call it 'Opus 02' or anything like that here. This is not the belly of Turius, but a clean outside world. It is a decision that odd callings should be avoided while not knowing where the ears are.

"Well, I guess that's it for this purchase. Yeah..."

Naturally, Dooey had to call him by his human name.

"It's Jack. I don't mind that, but I don't have the funds to spend it on the carriage home."

"... borrowing a carriage too?

"And a borrowed carriage. Ten new slaves. If you carry this, it will be expensive to rent."

I scratch my head. It is good to have unexpectedly obtained valuable samples and dots, but the number of assistant slaves initially scheduled is less than one-third of the number assumed. Besides, it was the end of a shortage of legs on the way home.

In the carriage we've been in, it's too small. Even if I were to subdivide it and take him to Marlan, I'd have to go back and forth again and again. There is an urgent need to replenish mass produced modified slaves. It won't take much time.

"You have to make money. Fortunately, this is the knee canales at Alliance headquarters, and my license is alive. If it's a B-class quest, you'll have no problem paying as much for the carriage home."

"... that's a frightening thing"

A previously silent dark elf woman opens her mouth with a face like a heartfelt fool.

Low, but deafening voice. Whether you don't mind it or not, the voice that contains the colorful incense that the man you hear can't help but get drunk. It's like strong alcohol. Crumble, even if you know you're drowning, you want to get your hands on it. If this had been a decent body, the price would have jumped twenty times.

"Finally, are you ready to chat?

Hide what you felt soaked up, and call out in the guise of a floating wind.

Other slaves are in a market cell until they get the means of transport, except for this, which is a high purchase. It was most secure to keep Dooe beside herself to avoid being served by the prankster.

"You're getting lost on the street, a quote bought out of dirty gold. Be willing to pinch your mouth."

"Whatever it is, thank goodness you got a cut to break your mouth. I haven't even heard your name yet."

Normally, the name of the slave is not known even by the seller. Of course, it would be a different story if it had the added value of a famous housemaid, etc.

The woman's answer was not great.

"It's not worth entrusting my proud name to a despicable hairless monkey or anything. If you want to hear it out, you can even use the bastard technique hanging on this collar."

Of course, I will resist you fully. Be polite and come with such an addition.

Dooe glanced over his shoulder. He has no magical qualities. Still, about the magic of obedience will work, but the quality and quantity of magic flowing into the surgical ceremony is something that has just been known. Even if you use it for a long-lived subhuman who is far superior in material development, you will suffer considerable resistance. If you order it over and over again, you'll pass, and you can squeeze and suffer enough for the Resist just once, but that's not his hobby. It was so stupid to get that far as to get the name out.

"... Ma'am, fine. Oh, come on. You'll have a chance to know. More than that, it's today's inn. The rest of the money. Then I'm sure you can't see the big bunks."

"I'm swallowing a lot, aren't I?

I have no choice but to suffer a malicious voice in the words I tried to tie.

Seeing it, from the shady darkness of the building, an earlier auctioneer appears. That too, with all the surroundings.

"If you wonder what the others who put this eagle across from the other side are like, I didn't know they were missing tonight. In such a good mood, you scratched my stuff from the side?

The mouth to say so was also dewy distorted, but the eyes have a lukewarm, sticky, and then chilli enthusiasm.

It was clear that the intention was to return the interest earlier.

A sigh leaks out of Dooey's mouth when he comes across an unexpected rub.

"You're a sloppy ichamom. He's mine now, isn't he?

Most likely, it will be the alchemist's experimental bench in a while.

"That's not all! I gave it to you, and you underestimate my financial strength! The auction for Tori is racing harder than I expected! You know how much I slapped him? Hmm?

"The point is, you hit eight..."

"That's rust coming out of you."

Staring at what looks like an interesting way to go, a dark elf woman. It is obvious that he does not even think of himself as a husband, such as a person who has just bought himself. Do you have good guts, or are you simply a throwaway bowl? Either way, it was more painful to listen than to the belly of a coin turtle fattened like a pig.

"A man plays a relationship around himself... you feel like a little princess, huh?

"It's an assortment of males eating each other. I feel like even fighting dogs are watching."

"You got a good gut."

Funny woman, I thought. This flutter as humans chop themselves up and let themselves fall into slavery. If I had a woman like this as an adventurer, I wouldn't have been conceited as a lone wolf or anything. I think so. It's a little shameful to offer all this balls to the ovenil - but hatred, Dooey, too, has been slapped in the head and fallen into a tool that is not so different from slavery. There will be no stopping it when the time comes.

"Can't you afford it, cave diving adventurer style. You think I'm confident in my arm?... Huh. I thought you were that kind of guy to look at. Therefore, I prepared these kinds of preferences."

When a merchant-style man signals, one of the loose ends up walking in.

Careful stick? Something's wrong with that. It's like you're drunk. It's a thousand feet.

To the surprised douhe, the man speaks with a grin.

"Fighting between adventurers is a loss to death. I don't blame you for killing me... did I?

Adventurer guild principles. It seems that you can protect yourself, but the reality is that it's a shitty decision that legalized rookie crushing. At least that's what Doue thinks. Eating each other and slightly reducing the number of heads leaves many pies. It was the articles of association that made me want it.

As someone who has been abused to death once, it is a sentence I do not even want to recall.

"... if it doesn't seem too eye-catching, you'll get an assassinated scolding from HQ. Is that it?"

"So I told you, it's an adventurous hobby. I'll give you a name."

Said, a man with a frivolous foothold opens his mouth.

"Ri, [two-handed sword doue] and, oh, I'll see..."

Called by two names with his uncircumcised tongue, Dooe frowned.

"You, adventurer jerk."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.... [Flying Sword Molt]. Rank, b. Yes, one-handed presence, desired"

A mustache with no sign of a razor on his stretchy hair, a thin, sticky cheekbone with a falling, indented orbit. The man named himself, with his body called Kaya, which nevertheless gave him an unusual glance.

The object on its hips is an exotic sword called Katana. A sharp sword from a far eastern country, ahead of you across the dangerous outer ocean. It was brought back by the explorers decades ago. It is known for its immense cleavage and the delicacy it requires for its exquisite skill. That means choosing a user. I'm supposed to be more of a one-sided user than I am surviving asking for it.

"Oh, my God, you.... alcohol poisoning?

Have you even broken yourself with alcohol? I guess so. It was unexpectedly Dark Elf slaves who denied it.

"No. Probably a pill. I see an inhaler-specific rash on my nose."

"You're familiar with it. Are you one of a kind?

"Don't be stupid. That's what my hometown Sherman used to do for long prayers. With the unusual exaltation, my nerves swell and I can't sleep for two or three days... but I'm sure it's too strong a substitute for a child."

"Knock it off, it's powdered with the juice of cannaginou. The darkness of this city is deep. He used to be a famous adventurer, too. I breathed a lot about it, but if you hang on to me, it's like this."

Bragging about it, he releases the medicine packet he took out of his nostrils to the ground.

Mault, the swordsman named picks it up while reddening his blood-running eyes even more.

"Ooh!? Ku, kusuri! Mine, mine!

"Calm down! You want something like this? Hmm? You want it?... If we kill him, we'll do more? Freshly purified, more pure!

"Kick, kick, kill! I'll kill you!... Kun, kun...!

Molt crouches in and smokes medicine like a dog. Every single suck, he was freaking out and cramped into trance.

Looking at it like that, Douhe turned his white gaze to the merchant.

"... Isn't that illegal?

"Money is the law here."

Then don't steam back the story settled with that money. That's what I wanted to say, but before that, Mault wakes himself up.

The atmosphere was changing.

"Huh... Huh..."

Long exhalation. Air pressurized and full of killing air.

The tremor on the toe of the hand disappears.

Hitting and changing and sitting quietly seemed like a single sword in itself.

Wipe the drooling saliva in the intoxication with sleeves, correct the majesty and open the tease mouth.

"... exposed the ugly"

…………

"Let disrespect atone for the mystery of my sword."

Lower your hips small as you say, and push up Katana's cum with your left thumb.

A carp cut clatter makes a crystal clear noise in the darkness of the city where it starved.

The right hand was holding the pattern. But I'm not going to let that go.

Instead of losing his fortune, what's the cold like being stuck with this white blade? It's like the next moment I feel like I'm going to be turned into two things.

Now vice versa, Dark Elf asked.

"What is that?

I had an idea.

"The knife extraction technique... anything, is to kill the opponent at the same time as pulling it out of the sheath"

This is also the first time Dooey has ever been relative to a user.

"It's supposed to be a trick against an unexpected attack, but some genres get to divine speed when they pull out a knife in favor of a stockpile of swords."

"Often, I'm learning sword science -"

As he did, a cracked grin appeared on Mault's face.

- I don't care if you know it.

What is there is perseverance and confidence as a single swordsman.

Only this blade does not rust and does not cloud in an attempt to be depressed by wearing white powder on your body and mind.

A malt that speaks that way with one expression.

His owner also summons him to take a ride.

"Yes! Now he's getting more sensory with his medicine daughters! As strong as it is, when the medicine is missing, it's better than even dyeing your hands! I used to call it" A "or something, but it opened like a fish with a knife!

"... is that enough for you?

Saying, I pulled out my two-handed sword.

If that story is certain, the stand-up opponent is the owner of a sword arm that butchers A-rank as well. Unlike poor bandits, wild monsters, and traitors who couldn't do anything but accidentally. Though evil, a pure and formidable enemy.

Dooey remembers Dawn for her tingling and tingling skin.

The title is mutually reinforcing with my former self. Strength is doubled by the action of the medicine, surely more than that.

The meanness and instinct left me in pain.

"Then let's get started. Time is money, isn't it, husband of a merchant?

"Let's skip it! Then, as you wish, kill -"

Before the word was over, the malt moved.

Skinny body, saggy. Doue's eyes, trying to capture it, hallucinated the sight of time being prolonged.

I stepped in. Divine Speed. The momentum of Flying Swallow as two names say.

If you notice, it's more than one sword at a time.

Blade extraction. Blade light. Cut up. Approaching the right flank. Slash to the left shoulder.

Half a step to the left. The tip ran through a piece of paper.

A swinging attitude. Expose half of the body. Opportunity. Later. Raise the cutting edge from the front eye.

... I took it!

But what gets into my eyes is a moult of laughter. The look of joy. Delighted with what? Doubtful.

As I answered, the enemy's left hand jumped.

What's gripping...... sheath? Shake the sheath? There is no blade. But.

The twisting of the knife extraction, the speed at which its recoil is applied. Weight of iron clay. Blunt weapon. Can kill enough.

... can you kill me?

- Accelerated thinking. Improved reflectance speed.

The extended time slows down even further.

The switch was switched off, triggering a sense of crisis and survival instincts. From a swordsman named Douye Schwarzer to a killing combat weapon handled by an alchemist. It felt more like falling into a bad dream than waking up.

Eye-catching is a dead tree and thin arm, holding a sheath that is wielded as a blunt instrument. It's the harms of medicine. Oh, my God.

But I couldn't tell you about people. This is already a man-type weapon that has been wiped out by that alchemist.

Was it the same thing that gained strength by the outward path?

Mault, with pride, also cut his life. How about me? Abandon your pride, gain your life, and on top of that, even your power. What else is the price?

Dooey thinks about that. I can afford to think about it. Though temporarily after paying the price, the sword arm is equivalent to a Class A adventurer. Can you afford all this before that?

Though.

If you are lost in thought, you will be knocked on the left sheath, and you will eat the two right machetes with a knife to return.

So that's it for me to think. I swung through the two-handed sword that I could carry, following the orders that I had thoroughly slapped into myself and into that outer path. For each impending sheath of iron, we need to break the enemy in front of us.

Staggering between iron chunks. The sound produced is closer to that of rubbing rather than clashing.

And then a wind with mass rushes through the side of the body.

... a long moment ends.

The lean and thin body still responded like a dead tree.

"- Let!?

Drug stained blood flies in the face of a merchant who has finally finished his mouth with swallowing.

Mault's body had been slashed from his left shoulder to his right flank, severed and blown away.

Collision sounds.

The wreckage of the Katana user hit a streetlight that lit up the magical lights. It makes its pillars shake and plunge into it and turn it into an evil hobby object.

"... see, things"

To my astonishment, I have a hard breath. Not only did I talk to you. What kind of pharmacology is obsessive when one lung is crushed and there is no heart? His right arm was still gripping Katana as if untrained.

"Foreign law… not beyond the right path… or…"

At the same time that the magical light that flashes with the chickens disappears, the eyes of the malt are also closed.

At the same time, it collapsed from the chest where it was standing down, as if the thread had been cut off.

Not a single flavor of merchant who was flashy finally begins to show a wolf-like reaction.

"Huh...? Ah...?

"Also, malt?

The merchant and the surrounding Gorotsuki slip by and succumb to the side of the breathless malt in the dark. The face of death was calm. As I passed away with a feeling of universal feeling that I could die with someone I recognized as a swordsman at the end of the period.

"... stupid, you"

Shivering whispers leak.

With the satisfaction of a misunderstanding, I screwed it up on my own. That's who this Katana user died for.

You think you're on the right track? If you call it a foreign law, Dooey is the one who's coming off. He's rebuilt his muscles, reinforced his skeleton, rebuilt his neural reticulum, and even got a brain miso. A malt done with one pill is still closer to the right path.

Such as Daughter by Prohibited Medicine, the magic realm is far from a mirror. Eventually, this swordsman passed away clouding his eyes until the end.

"Hi, hi-no-no... Huh!?

A merchant with a peppered ass cake. You don't think the person who slaughtered the tiger child will slaughter him with a knife? Heavenly, he was raw and warm and dirty before his pants.

"To, run!

"But my husband..."

"You idiot! It's a species of life!

The surrounding men also flee, and the fat middle-aged merchant, one, is left behind.

... I felt like an idiot. In the meantime, it's just like when you slaughtered the Bandits. I get tired of starting fights without thinking, killing, and the power I get with cheating hands.

How many times do I have to repeat it?

"Ha, help me..."

In a voice begging for pity, the pig rang.

"Or, I'll give you as much money as I can..."

"I don't need it."

I just paid for the firepowder that came down. I'm not going to quit cutting and robbing if I'm cramped, but it's not enough to get there yet.

"Don't kill me......!

"He didn't even kill me."

This two-handed sword is not a blade for slaughter.

... So, what's it for?

The anguish of that question leaks tongue punching.

"... go with me. Before you change your mind and want to kill me."

"Hi-hi, hi-hi!

A merchant who escapes with his wandering body while making it difficult to walk with his wet pants.

He looked lame. Both the other person and Dooey himself.

"What are you looking at, you"

said Dark Elf. Sewing into my voice was perplexity and pity. Are you overweighing the provisional first Lord who bought himself, and still, you know he's bored with something?

That was the unplugged guess.

The woman continues.

"With all these sword arms, there is also wealth to the extent of contracting me unwillingly"

……

"So what makes you look so vain?

It's all because I owe you...

Instead of disclosing its true meaning, I decided to splash another thing.

Shut up and hold me.

The woman, who shuddered to let her resist the magic of the collar as well, hesitated for some reason to accept her embrace.

"So, after the return was significantly behind schedule, most of the budget went to Dark Elves,"

I stopped deciding the papers and looked at Dooey. [M]

He said, scratching his head,

"I'm sorry, sir."

Say something like that.

I seem to be reflecting. Whether or not that's something you can forgive. No, I'm not the one who can't forgive you.

"What the hell are you doing? You are."

It's a uni that's unleashing anger that could distort the air. The expression remains the same as usual. But even me, the Lord, feels cold in this sign. I wouldn't put it on my face, but I was just buying Dooey as a girlfriend, and I guess I have strong feelings that I can't forgive this matter because of that recoil.

"Uni"

"... excuse me, my husband"

Apologize for leaking the kill to the prank and take a step back. Maybe he's still angry. Turn the formula for it later,

"Well, I'm sorry about this one, too. I gave him a little too many free hands inadvertently. Looks like he overbudgeted."

Otherwise, there is no way you can buy a dark elf, albeit with some scratches. It was the far-fetched cause of the matter that the deputies at the border brought the hidden money and the sauce and handed over a lot of money in a bowl account. It's true that Dooe did this, but I can't spare that slander if you blame him for being frivolous.

"Besides, I got a precious dark elf unexpectedly. So this is about being careful with each other later."

"... Are you sure?

"'Cause, you see, I only gave fuzzy orders like,' Buy me a slave flashy 'or something. I didn't know how many people fit the criteria. You will also forgive me for buying Dooey a woman. Though I didn't think I'd buy a fancy, expensive woman."

I mean, that's the thing. Daiyuan is a mistake in setting my orders.

"Then he said it was also my mistake that it was not appropriate to correct your husband's passing. … Cheng Cheng, you don't seem to deserve to blame him"

In Uni, they're going to give him the integrity to forgive in that way. Though the fruits of my education, they are serious.

"All right. So, this whole thing's been going on"

"... sorry"

Doue bows his head to a special victory. You're kind of less energetic than usual, I look at his bought dark elves with no idea.

Could it have been love? Well, he's a slave I bought by tapping a big one, there's about as much as I think. Even so, it's kind of a choice no one else feels comfortable pouring a cup of budget into a wounded woman slave.

The dark elf stares at Uni, who somehow serves behind my chair.

"... woman. Are you really human?

Besides, I said something rude. Well, it's a tool in my "work."

"Biologically, we have been judged to be so. It's from the Galerin Magic Academy."

"I mean, isn't a human being a human being or a legitimate person? How the hell am I supposed to get there with this amount of magic while I'm pushing you to death?

Dark elves gaze full of doubt and awe. Uni takes it without even a small shake.

I don't know, but compared to Dooey, Uni still falls into the category.

"Because the material is good, she is. Continuous dosing and efficient training. That's all we got."

"It's all a gift from your husband's guidance."

"... Play with the dolls in the margins. I feel nauseous."

I have trouble even if they say it in the margins. This is my mansion, albeit my temporary residence until I can get a new home.

In a swordswallowing atmosphere, Dooey pinches his mouth without accumulating.

"Stop."

"Why stop? No, why are you following a man like this in the first place? With as much strength as you have, you don't have to spoil a bunch of noble pawns."

"I'm telling you, no!

It was a screaming voice.

With as much strength as you, huh? Given its great yuan, it could be a hard word for Doue.

"Well, don't rub it that way. I'm sure we'll all get along, okay?

"Who are you and so on...!

"... can you do it?

Dark Elves showing Potty and Growling Dooey the face he said was incredible.

He seemed to get along quite well, even though it was only a few moments before we acted together.

I want you to feel safe. Because I'll make sure you stay with me properly.

"This is the first time I've dealt with a living dark elf. I've seen some samples of long-lived species."

He used to tailor the elves that were at the extra party when Uni was an adventurer, and the academy allowed me to touch the more beautiful shapes. Under Professor Graumann, I've had a lot of valuable experiences.

"All I know is I'm an elf, but, well, the way the body worked wasn't that different from a human being. Maybe even Dark Elves can handle it."

"Is that all you do?

"Hahaha! Did you think I'd do an autopsy? Unfortunately, the long-lived subhuman can't get anywhere near the immortality that I'm after, this is it. How their longevity works in the first place - oh well, is that good there? What matters is what you do with this rare body."

"Stop it! What are you doing to me?"

"Hold him down, Dooey"

…… Oh, okay. "

Dooey, who obeys my orders and detains her disappointingly.

The only face left with one eye open was a look that embodied two letters of despair.

"Hey, you're lying...?

"Unfortunately, it's true.... By the way, you forgot to ask me something important."

With a trembling voice, I asked her to call the Lord of the Hands who held her back.

"You. What's your name?

"Oh, I don't have a name to teach you!

"Oh, yeah."

The answer was an awesome rejection.

I thought they might say that, but I had no choice. It's nothing of great interest.

"Well, okay. I'll think of a new name."

- That's it.

The night at Canales, with sweaty skin wrapped in sheets, the woman said.

"Am I what?"

"So that's my name. You weren't listening?

No, the man replied.

on a small bed of restful accommodation. They're leaning against each other with their pillows crossed, and they can't possibly miss hearing the words whispered in their ears.

"What a breeze. Earlier, you said there was no name for a monkey."

"What, just whimsy"

Say, the woman laughs thinly.

Looks like a mirage in the desert. It was a sneer laugh that seemed to disappear if we got close.

"... I thought so. From now on, no one will ever call my name."

……

"I just felt a little lonely without someone to remember"

To that word, the man is breathtaking.

The countless wounds engraved on the woman's body told the story of the intensity of the war disaster that struck her.

Fighting to hurt her so far, a rare being - if you think about it, perhaps the clan she was in is no longer there.

The woman turned sideways to shelter her body from the pain she was unfamiliar with.

"You're still lost.... I won't say it again"

"I won't ask you again."

The man leans back on his arm to the pillow.

"Never again, never forget"

It was an oath that only the moon out the window had heard.

- As the saying goes, a woman's name will only remain on a man's chest.

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