A Mastermind? No, I'm just the Live-In Son-in-Law-Chapter 4: Slave Market

Anyway, as I was walking and thinking about all this, I suddenly heard footsteps behind me.

Wondering if I was just being paranoid, I turned into an alley, but it seemed like the people following me weren’t doing it by accident.

‘So I really am about to get into a fight?’

My body tensed for a moment, but I was already mentally prepared. If it’s come to this, I might as well use it as a chance to get some combat practice.

“Hmm.”

“Tch.”

With that thought, I calmly circulated white magic through my body and turned my head—but the moment the guys saw me, they suddenly stopped in their tracks and frowned.

Then, after scratching their heads awkwardly for a moment, they just passed me by like nothing had happened.

“...Forget it for today.”

“If you’re on our side, show your mark properly, would you?”

“You kids these days...”

And not just those guys who had spoken to me a moment ago—even the ones who had been watching me with wary eyes from the roadside all started disappearing into nearby alleys like they were retreating.

‘So they weren’t just common thugs...?’

I’d assumed this place was crawling with typical lowlives and let my guard down, but it turns out most of them were skilled enough to detect the faintest traces of my white magic. If they hadn’t been so cautious, I might’ve been the one in trouble.

‘I definitely need to bring a trustworthy escort next time.’

Of course, that’s also one of the reasons I came to this dangerous place today.

Because the broken-tier character I absolutely must obtain early on is in the slave market located at the heart of this area.

‘Let’s just hope the Emperor hasn’t gotten there first.’

That’s right. The character I’m trying to get my hands on is someone who, in most scenarios, becomes the Emperor’s right hand and loyal knight.

In-game, she’s called “the Emperor’s Hound,” and among players, she’s known as “the One-Hit Guillotine,” boasting absurdly high combat stats.

But it’s not just her combat prowess that stands out—her judgment and ability to assess a situation are top-notch, too. That’s why she’s the character Meredia clashed with most often and remained on high alert against until she finally brought down the Emperor.

‘But soon, she’ll be my reliable bodyguard.’

Though I say that, to be honest, a method to recruit her in-game hadn’t been discovered for a long time.

She’s a character with a backstory full of betrayal and deceit, and because the Emperor was the only one who ever offered her a hand when she was about to be sold off as a nobleman’s plaything, she gave her loyalty to him alone.

However, veteran players who experimented with countless builds to speedrun the game eventually figured out how to recruit her.

Updat𝒆d fr𝒐m freewebnσvel.cøm.

‘And of course, I was the first one to discover it.’

Anyway, that method involves recklessly charging into this gang-infested zone early on and outbidding the Emperor at the slave market.

Missing out on that slave meant you’d almost certainly incur the Emperor’s wrath, making it one of the riskiest actions in the game—but because it also allowed you to recruit the character later as a mid-boss or ally, it became something of a meme build in the community.

‘But that only applies to the game timeline.’

Right now, I’m in a period that’s far earlier than even the game’s prologue. So if I time it just right, there’s a good chance I can get the character without provoking the Emperor’s wrath.

And even if I do get caught, the Emperor is currently using me as a counter to Meredia. Given his personality, there’s a good chance he’ll just turn a blind eye.

Still, I’m moving as discreetly as possible just in case, but even if something does happen, this is an ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) opportunity with way more to gain than to lose—I can’t afford to miss it.

‘Which means, it’s about time to start paying attention up ahead.’

The entrance to the slave market I’m looking for should be just ahead. That place is several times more dangerous than the streets I just passed through, so I can’t afford to lower my guard for even a second.

‘Just do it like I did in the game. Just like I did then.’

***

The imperial capital, often called the Land Where the Sun Never Sets, had another side. The Lutein underworld.

“Is anyone there?”

“...A guest?”

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

At the entrance of its most secretive and hidden zone, a man named Rian—who had been tending to the stove—was startled by a sudden voice. Instinctively, he grabbed the window panel and peeked outside.

“Moon’s shadow.”

“Three silver coins.”

“Hm, so you are a guest.”

At the quiet response that followed, he blinked the sleep from his eyes, scratched his head, and straightened his posture.

“Wait, what did you just say?”

His eyes widened in shock.

‘It’s not even time to receive regular guests yet...’

In truth, the slave market he managed had only opened its doors the day before. And even then, only to VIPs directly involved in the business—guests among guests.

So of course, it was impossible for this visitor to be someone he recognized, and they shouldn't have needed a passphrase in the first place.

‘Wasn’t I the one who sent the passphrase to headquarters?’

Moreover, the password just given by the guest was one Rian had barely managed to think up after racking his brains for something meaningful and impressive. He hadn’t even sent it to headquarters yet, which meant no one else should know it.

“What seems to be the matter?”

Naturally, if Whitney—his informant—had heard that, he might’ve flinched. But being entirely unaware of such internal details, Whitney simply tilted his head with a calm expression and asked,

“Is there a problem?”

By that point, sweat was already beading on Rian’s forehead.

‘This guy... he’s one of us.’

After years of scraping by in this line of work, Rian had developed a knack for reading people at a glance. He could size up most folks just by looking at them.

And the young man now smiling eerily in front of him couldn’t be categorized as just a ‘VIP.’

Judging by the aura he exuded and the mind-reading trick he’d just pulled, it was far more likely he belonged to the same kind of shadows Rian himself was tied to—someone steeped in endless darkness.

But if he were truly one of their own, there’d be no reason to show up at the slave market like this. And if he were just a private individual, there’d be even less reason. After all, those bound to the shadows had no need for living toys or entertainment.

Which meant he was clearly moving on behalf of someone else.

So then—who had the power to send such a figure in secret, with full knowledge of the slave market’s operations, without ever exchanging a word with its manager?

‘No way... Could those ridiculous rumors have been true?’

In Rian’s mind, there was only one person in the entire Empire—perhaps even the whole continent—capable of such a thing.

The Emperor. The ruler of the continent’s sole unified empire. A man widely considered the most powerful figure in history.

Lately, rumors had begun to circulate that the so-called Emperor’s Shadow—his hand in the underworld—was starting to stir in secret.

‘Then could this guy really be...?’

It was such an unlikely possibility that even Rian himself considered it a baseless rumor, but faced with the eerie smile and unnatural presence of the man before him, it was hard not to imagine the worst.

After all, while his own organization did have ties to many powerful nobles and spanned across the Empire, being able to run something this dark so openly in the heart of the capital was another matter entirely.

But if it were all being orchestrated under the hand of the Empire’s most exalted figure?

‘No. Don’t dig any deeper.’

Though Rian had followed his quick thinking down that train of thought in mere seconds, he quickly shook his head and erased it from his mind.

He’d seen plenty of people vanish without a trace after running their mouths about things they shouldn’t have.

“Please, come inside.”

So instead, he simply did his job as a middle manager, forced a pleasant smile, and threw open the door behind him.

‘Seriously, I just did what I usually do and it worked?’

Of course, Whitney had no idea about any of this. He simply walked inside, proud of how calmly he’d handled the situation.

“Yes. I’m certain.”

And surprisingly, for once, it wasn’t just his imagination.

“...Whitney Ringaarden. That’s him, Your Majesty.”

From deep within the alley, still hidden among the heavy shadows, someone quietly reported what they had just witnessed—having been outpaced by Whitney.

***

At that very moment—

In the prison beneath the slave market, a cold dampness hung in the air.

“Hey, Number 167.”

A single girl remained there, left behind after the VIPs had already come and gone. At the sudden voice from beyond the bars, she slowly raised her head.

“Scrap food, brat.”

What was thrown before her was a bowl filled with something worse than dog food. She glanced at it briefly, then calmly looked away. Her silence was answered by a sneering voice that echoed through the underground.

“Don’t act so high and mighty.”

“......”

“Still think you’re a noble, don’t you?”

At those words, the girl’s blank eyes flickered with a brief spark of fire—but the moment the guard’s hand moved toward the baton at his waist, it extinguished just as quickly.

“We classified you as merchandise, and all you did was turn out defective, draining our resources and wasting legal protection.”

Gaining confidence from her submissiveness, the guard sneered even more, his voice soaked in mockery.

“Still, consider yourself lucky. If you’d been classified as lowborn, you’d have been soiled long ago.”

“Who knows, though. Among the general buyers coming in soon, there are always bloated pigs with too much money. Maybe, if you play your cards right with that pretty face, you could end up higher than a queen. Live a second life, perhaps?”

But as the girl showed no response, the guard clicked his tongue in irritation. He raised his baton high in the air as if to strike.

“You’ve been ignoring me this whole— Hm.”

The black sigil etched into his hand gave off a faint burn. Smacking his lips, he lowered the baton and turned around.

“Damn brat.”

And then, silence.

‘How... did it come to this.’

In that stillness, the girl stared at the ground for a long while, and tears slowly began to pool in her eyes.

‘I only wanted... to wield a sword again.’

Her entire life had been devoted to the sword. And now, not only was the blade taken from her—just as the guard had said—she was nothing more than a noble’s discarded toy, waiting to be sold.

‘Why...?’

She had let go of hope long ago.

Just the day before, people who had once stood on the same level as her had come and gone, throwing disdainful glances as they appraised her.

None of them had even tried to bid on her. As if to mock her foolishness, they passed by with pitiful comments and nothing more.

It was the moment her pride as a noble and her honor as a swordswoman had been utterly denied.

“Kh... ugh...”

Tears began to fall from her eyes, striking the cold stone floor, as she clasped her trembling hands—hands that no longer had any strength left.

She felt as if she could die then and there. But the brand of a slave etched into her shoulder denied her even that final dignity.

‘Just once... before I die...’

Her body had long grown weak from not drinking at night, and she was nearing her limit. But right before death, they would just force-feed her like a dog, shoving food into her mouth. Resistance meant nothing now.

‘Will I... ever hold a sword again?’

Trapped in that unending abyss of despair, her vision fading and her will crumbling, she didn’t even bother to steady herself. And it was in that very moment that she muttered those words silently in her heart—

“Lunelle Misthylene.”

A voice she had never heard before—chilling enough to make her spine freeze—echoed through the cell.

“I’ll take this one.”

Realizing the voice had spoken her name, the girl mustered the last of her strength and slowly lifted her head.

“You’re exactly my type.”

She saw a boy about her age, with a smile so chilling that if she’d still had her sword, she might have drawn it by reflex.

‘At least he’s not some bloated bastard...’

The thought crossed her mind for an instant—and she hated herself for it. Deeply.

She quietly closed her eyes.

“I look forward to working with you, Miss Lunelle.”

‘No... maybe that would’ve been better, actually.’

And with a final thought that Whitney would have found very disappointing, her consciousness flicked out like a dying flame.