Back on Earth, slavery had long been abolished, at least officially. It still existed in dark corners of the world, hidden behind euphemisms like "indentured servitude" or "human trafficking," but for the most part, it was universally condemned.
Here, in this world, slavery wasn't an ancient evil; it was a bureaucratic institution.
People went into debt, sometimes through bad luck, sometimes through bad decisions, and when they couldn't pay, they sold themselves into bondage. Their labor became collateral. Their bodies, repayment.
A grim but efficient system.
The price of a slave wasn't based on age, race, or beauty, but on the size of the debt they owed. A debtor who owed more than they were worth might be sold to the mines, or worse, to companies that would work them to death.
The more I learned, the more uneasy I felt, but in this world, the laws were clear: a merchant could own a slave for protection or assistance, as long as the contract was filed with the guild and the conditions were humane.
And after the incident with the Apothecary Guild, "protection" was exactly what I needed.
I refused to return to the stall until I had someone who could deter another attack. The receptionist at the Merchant's Guild had recommended a particular establishment: Madam Jane's House of Contract Servitude.
The building wasn't the grim dungeon I expected. It was a stone mansion with elegant ironwork gates, flowering gardens, and carefully trimmed hedges. The air smelled faintly of roses and soap. Women in simple uniforms tended the gardens; I assumed they were slaves under Jane's management.
When they saw me approaching, they bowed politely. I caught snippets of whispered conversation, surprise, mostly, that a man had come as a buyer. I ignored it and approached the front door.
An older maid opened it with a deep bow. "Welcome, sir. May I presume you are here to see Madam Jane about a purchase?"
"Yes," I said, handing over the sealed letter from the Merchant's Guild. "I was referred by them."
"Of course, sir. Please follow me."
The interior was as refined as any noble's estate, with marble floors, soft carpets, portraits of smiling women, and the faint sound of piano music coming from somewhere deeper inside.
The maid led me into a bright sitting room furnished with two sofas and a polished oak table. She poured tea for me, then withdrew. Within minutes, another woman entered, elegant, confident, and beautiful in a way that spoke more of refinement than vanity.
She was perhaps in her early forties, with long, golden hair tied back neatly, and eyes that assessed everything in a single glance. Her tailored pant suit spoke of a woman who had built her own empire.
"Welcome," she said with a smile, extending a gloved hand. "I am Madam Jane. You must be Mr. Abel?"
I stood and shook her hand. "That's right. A pleasure to meet you."
"The pleasure is mine," she said, taking the seat opposite me. "Your letter of introduction speaks highly of you. Now, tell me, what sort of arrangement are you looking for?"
I placed several potion bottles from my inventory on the table. Their faint magical glow caught the afternoon light.
"I'm a new merchant in town," I explained. "I produce and sell potions. They're better and cheaper than anything currently offered by the Apothecary Guild."
Jane's brows rose slightly. "Ah. I see where this is going."
"I was threatened by a guild representative earlier today. I went to the Merchant's Guild for advice, and they suggested I acquire a bodyguard, someone reliable."
Jane picked up one of the potion bottles, turning it slowly between her fingers. "You brew these yourself?"
"Yes. I have a production skill."
"Remarkable." She set the bottle down carefully. "Then you must be doing quite well already. Still, I assume you'd prefer a payment plan rather than an outright purchase?"
"That would be ideal."
"Good," she said with a small nod. "Let me explain briefly how things work here. Slavery in the Falorin Domain is strictly regulated. Slaves have legal protections: you may not harm, starve, or overwork them. You must provide food, shelter, and clothing, and in exchange, they are bound by contract to serve you faithfully."
"That's more humane than I expected," I admitted.
She smiled faintly. "We are not barbarians, Mr. Abel. Now, I have a few candidates who might suit your needs, but I believe one in particular would be perfect, assuming you can meet her conditions."
"Conditions?"
"Yes. Some slaves have non-negotiable terms written into their contracts. Personal rules, you might say. The one I have in mind is strong, dangerously strong, actually. But she's… unique."
Jane leaned back, folding her hands. "Her debt is twenty-five gold coins, plus our service fee of five gold. That makes thirty in total. We can offer you a payment plan, two gold per week minimum. Once she's contracted, her maximum term is five years, unless you release her early."
"Those terms sound fair," I said. "May I meet her?"
Jane nodded to her maid. "Liz, please bring her in. She's probably loitering near the kitchen."
The maid gave a resigned sigh and disappeared.
A few minutes later, the door opened again, and in stepped a woman who seemed to carry sunlight with her.
She was in her early twenties, with silver hair and matching wolf-like ears, a silver tail flicking lazily behind her. Her clothes were plain but neat, her posture relaxed. She looked me up and down, tilting her head.
"Are you the client?" she asked bluntly. "A man? Really?"
Jane and Liz both froze, mortified. I couldn't help but grin.
"Heh, yeah. I'm the client. My name's Abel. And you are?"
The silver-haired girl brightened instantly, bowing with surprising energy. "I'm Luna!" she said cheerfully, her tail wagging.
Her carefree attitude was oddly disarming. Jane gestured for her to sit. "Luna, please explain your conditions to Mr. Abel."
"Okay! Luna wants good food."
I chuckled. "I promise not to starve you."
She shook her head, ears flopping. "No! Luna wants lots of good food. Especially meat!"
Jane sighed softly. "As you might have guessed, Luna is a wolf beastkin. They're known for their enormous appetites. Luna's… predicament arose because she borrowed heavily from her adventuring guild to buy luxury food. She nearly bankrupted them."
"Food debt," I murmured.
Jane nodded. "She's been with us for three weeks. Strong as an ox, eats like three of them. We've even had to send her hunting outside the city just to keep our pantry intact. But she's a former A-rank adventurer, and one of the most capable fighters I've ever seen."
That got my attention. I thought about it for a moment, then smiled. "Luna, are you hungry right now?"
Her ears perked up instantly. "Luna can eat!"
I reached into my inventory and produced a plate with a steaming, oversized cartoon-style meat-on-the-bone, one of my crafted meals. Her eyes widened, her tail wagging wildly.
"This is for you," I said, sliding the plate toward her. "If you agree to protect me, I can promise meals like this regularly. All I need is your strength to keep me safe while I earn the money to pay off your debt."
Luna stared at the meat, then at me, then back at the meat again. "You mean Luna can eat this all the time?"
"As long as I have money, yes."
She grabbed the bone with both hands, took a massive bite, and practically purred. "Deal! Luna will protect you!"
Jane chuckled, clearly amused. "Congratulations, Mr. Abel. You've just purchased the most dangerous glutton in the city."
I laughed softly. "Then I suppose we'll get along perfectly."