Chapter 3: An Unusual Slave Trader (part 4)

There were a pair of two slave girls, both around seventeen years old, who

looked like sisters and were holding hands. One girl was quiet, but she seemed to

have a mental fortitude (the elder sister?). The other one was trying to act tough, but

looked shaken by uncertainty (the little sister?). The quiet girl was holding the other

one tightly and trying to reassure her.

Had San put herself in danger for them?

"You take good care of your own, don't you, San?" I asked.

She said nothing.

"Could you put your clothes back on for now?"

"But...!"

"It's fine," I said forcefully.

San reluctantly put her clothes back on. As she did, I noticed something shapely

and jiggling for a second, but I looked away with all the strength I had.

Once San had calmed down, I spoke to all of the slaves. "I see your situation. That

said, I have no intention of taking over this business. I could never be a slave trader.

It just wouldn't work."

San said nothing.

"However, I think I will keep this business going until all of you are sold. Of

course, I have no intention of selling you to any strange buyers. I will take

responsibility for investigating them carefully. As far as I can manage, I'll look for

buyers that will allow families to stay together."

If I had been rich, I could have closed up shop and released all of them. But, in my

current state, I didn't have the power to. Still, I wanted to do what I could. While the

slaves' faces filled with relief after they heard me speak, I smiled to San who was still

in a daze.

"This is the best I can do. Is it good enough?"

"...More than," she said. "You are too kind for your own good, Shopmaster."

"Could you not call me that? I'm Ginger Camus."

"Understood, Master Ginger."

And so, I gave San a firm handshake.

"Hey there, mister!" one merchant said. "That's one fine slave you've got servin'

ya."

"How much'd she cost ya? You a rich kid from a good family or somethin'?"

"Um... er... Thanks..."

While politely brushing off the people who addressed me in merchant slang, San

and I walked down a shopping street in the capital at midday, carrying bags with us.

The bags contained mostly food and soap, along with new cloth to make simple

garments. I'm sure you could figure this out without me saying so, but almost all of it

was for the slaves.

"Well, we managed to get our hands on a nice amount of quality cloth," I said.

"That store, The Silver Deer, was good. The shopkeeper was a real dandy, and when

he heard we would be using the material to make new clothes for slaves, he sold us a

whole lot of it for cheap without looking the slightest bit unhappy about it."

"How very nice for you," she said.

"Ah...! Sorry, San. For making you tag along and carry stuff for me."

"You needn't show such concern for a slave," San said nonchalantly. "Order me to

do whatever you wish."

She was a little taller than I was, and the way she looked walking with her back

straight, she had such dignity that you never would have taken her for a slave.

Maybe she had come from a good upbringing?

"But, still, these are stores, what's with them having no shopkeepers other than

slaves?" I asked.

"For as long as they wear their collars, slaves are absolutely loyal," San explained.

"It is possible to put them to work, too, so I think this is normal."

"Oh, I see."

"More importantly... why do you go to the trouble of feeding your slaves well and

giving them new clothing when you intend to let go of them, Master Ginger?" asked

San.

I asked, "Clean things or dirty things, which do you think people will take better

care of?"

"That would be... the clean things, I think..."

"Right. It's the same idea here."

It felt a little wrong to speak of people like things, but slaves were always treated

like things. That being the case, I wanted to make them things that people would

treat well. I was well aware of how hypocritical that was, but it was all I could do

right now.

"Slaves that are clean, of good pallor, and well dressed appear more valuable," I

said. "I think it'll help keep away the buyers who just want to use them as disposable

labor."

"Being able to sell the merchandise is the most important thing in business," said

San. "I am not sure if you have the right approach to this as a seller."

"That's why I told you I'm not cut out to be a slave trader, okay?"

"Aren't you? I think you might make a surprisingly good slave trader."

"That's the exact opposite of what you were saying just a moment ago, you

know?!"

"It is just the mindless prattle of a slave. Pay it no mind." San smiled

mischievously. Urkh, she was definitely messing with me. "If I have angered you,

then use the whip..."

"I'm not going to hit you, okay?!"

"But, if you do it just once, you might awaken to something inside you?"

"I don't want to awaken anything! You're sure you're not one of those perverts

who gets off on being hit, right?"

"Perhaps that is just a question of who is whipping me?" she asked.

"Huh?! What's that supposed to..."

"Hee hee. It was a joke." San gave me a cheerful smile, then walked off briskly,

leaving me in the dust.

For a moment, I stood there dumbfounded before I hurriedly collected my wits

and followed after her.

It made you question who was the possession and who was the owner here...

—Some days later.

"Okay, everyone," I said. "Let's move on to the three times table. Three, go!"

"One three is three, two threes are six, three threes are nine..." At my instruction,

the slaves began to sing out their three times table.

Next to them, another group of slaves were practicing their writing, using water

to wet a slate. Paper and ink were expensive, so that was what we were using as a

substitute.

I wanted to have them available, but... I really didn't have that much financial

leeway, after all...

"What are you doing this time?" San asked, sounding exasperated. She'd just

returned from the errand I'd sent her on.

"Hm? I thought I'd teach everyone to write and do arithmetic," I said.

"...Why?"

"I did some thinking. When it comes to tools, those with some added functionality

are better taken care of, right? Well, what sort of added functionality can you give

humans, I wondered, and the answer I came up with was, 'Education, maybe?'"

The sad truth was, many people only thought of slaves as a cheap source of labor,

meant to be used until they broke and then thrown away.

True, that was an extreme position, but it was also true that for ordinary slaves,

hard manual labor was about the only use for them. Now, what about a slave that

knew how to write and do arithmetic? If a slave could read, write, and do arithmetic,

wouldn't that make them too valuable to waste as disposable manual labor?

The fact of the matter was, those with such skills who fell to become slaves, they

sold at a higher price, and they were used in a wider variety of ways than slaves that

were only capable of manual labor. They served as shopkeepers, and were even

sometimes hired as servants and secretaries to the nobility.

You might think, "Well, we should teach all slaves to read and write, then," but

that would be inefficient. It took time to educate slaves, which meant they'd cost that

much more in upkeep. Besides, most of the people who visited slave traders were

looking for manual laborers. There were a limited number who would buy educated

slaves. If too many were available, they would go unsold, and if the slave trader

became forced to sell them as cheaply as manual laborers, it would defeat the point.

This was, ultimately, a business, after all.

Still, that wasn't something that was a concern for me right now. I had no

intention of continuing with this work.

Even if I had to pour some of the savings my grandpa had left me into it, I was

fine with that so long as I could arrange for the people here to pass into the hands of

as reasonably good buyers as I could manage. Even if I didn't turn a profit, I would

actively work to sell them to buyers I thought would be good, and once I had seen

everyone off to their various fates, I would close up shop. I thought of it as a way of

paying my respects to Grandpa.

"That's how Grandpa taught me, and I've learned enough that I can teach the

same to everyone," I said. "Would you like me to teach you, too, San?"

"I will be fine without," San said. "I came from a family of merchants, so I can read

and do arithmetic."

A family of merchants? How had she ended up a slave, then...?

"Um... Do you mind if I ask?" I ventured.

"It isn't a terribly interesting story. The owner of a store who was swindled by

others found himself needing to sell off one of his daughters in order to protect his

store and family. That's all there was to it."

"What do you mean, that's all...?"

"It is a common story," said San. "The kind of misfortune... you could find

anywhere."

No matter how prosperous the country, no matter how good its governance and

public order, the malice of people will never go away. No shortage of these things will

happen. I just happened to be the one to fall into it, San's cold eyes told me. It was as if

she had given up on everything.

"Well, it is an ability I am lucky to have, so allow me to teach them with you," San

said.

"...Please do."

It might be difficult for a slave, but I want San to have hope, too, I thought

earnestly, watching her teaching a young slave boy to read.

Months later, my sales weren't exactly booming. Or rather, I hadn't sold a single

one.

Ha ha ha... What to make of this...?

While I was sitting at the counter clutching my head, San brought out some tea

for me and asked, "I believe there were customers. Why did you not sell to them?"

Yes, it was true, a number of customers had come saying they wanted to buy

slaves. However, from what I'd seen in my interviews with them, none of them were

the sorts I could ever bring myself to sell to.

"If I have confidence in one thing, it's my ability to see through people," I

explained.

"They were not up to your standards, then, Master Ginger?"

"Every single one of them only looked at slaves as tools to be used and then

thrown away," I said. "No matter how gentlemanly they might have acted. It's not

that easy to hide the dirty parts of your heart, though."

"Is that right...?" San asked.

"I did promise everyone I would find them trustworthy buyers, after all. I have to

select them carefully."

"If you keep saying that, you may find yourself in financial distress and eventually

slavery yourself, you know?" San asked.

"That'd be a problem, but... Long ago, Grandpa said this about business: 'Every

lull comes to an end, and the tides can suddenly change. That's why you need to wait

for your chance without giving up, and when the opportunity comes, grasp it

without fail.'"

So, for now, no matter how hard it is, I will persevere. So I don't miss the chance

that will surely come someday.

While I was thinking that, San smiled despite herself. "It's strange... When I am

with you, Master Ginger, even though I am a slave, it almost gives me hope for the

future."

It was a soft smile. For that smile, I felt like I could push myself a little longer.

It'll be fine. A chance is sure to come along eventually. Probably... Yeah... I'm sure of

it!

That was what I told myself as I continued to wait. And then...

...the chance suddenly came not long after that.

One morning, when I opened the store, the same as I always did...

"Excuse me! Are there any slaves here who can read or write?!"

"I need them urgently! I'll buy them for a good price, so let me have them!"

"Me, too! If you have any demands, just let me hear them!"

...a great mass of people suddenly swarmed inside the shop. They were all

relatively well-dressed and well-kept, too. Many were there at the behest of their

masters, but others were nobles or knights here to buy for themselves. Both San and

I were flabbergasted.

"Erm... All of our slaves can write and do arithmetic, actually..." I said.

"Is that true?!"

"Please! Oh, please! Allow me to buy them off of you!"

"I was here first! Our domain is in trouble!"

"C-Calm down, please! What exactly is the situation here?!" I cried.

I had San and the others prepare enough tea for everyone, then asked the

customers to explain what was going on.

It seemed that it had all started when our young sovereign, His Majesty King

Souma, had changed his policy on how nobles and knights were to be evaluated. His

achievements in the time since the former king abdicated had been exemplary. He

had put down the three dukes who opposed him, defeated the Principality of

Amidonia which had attacked us, and just the other day annexed them. At this point,

his position in power was secure.