Leave a comment

Project GB is an official initiative by Re:Library.

The slave trader’s mansion in the lower town of the Holy City Thera Maryth wasn’t technically a private residence. (Though I should add a big “technically” there.) In reality, it functioned more like an upscale adult entertainment venue, complete with legal drugs, alcohol, and male and female slaves used for hosting clients.

It looked like we had come in through the back entrance (probably because it would’ve been awkward for a Shrine Maiden to stroll right in through the front door. I imagine Kaisa took care to arrange that). After taking a long detour around the building, we were finally guided to the main entrance, where we were greeted by a bold relief depicting liquor and Stigma collars. Next to the plaque bearing the establishment’s name—Cervantes—there was, displayed with utmost pride, a certificate issued by the Church declaring the place a “respectable establishment not in violation of public morals.”

Just so you know, the certification is granted to businesses that fulfill the following three conditions:
1) The owner must be a first-class citizen or higher.
2) They must have no criminal record.
3) They must be recognized as a devout follower of the Church (typically meaning they’ve made generous donations).

While the first two criteria are absolute, the third is more flexible—it’s evaluated relatively, and with a recommendation from a high-ranking cleric, it’s possible to fudge the first two a little. So for those with money and ties to the authorities, it’s not exactly a high hurdle to clear.

As a result, nearly every large establishment on the main streets of the Holy City, regardless of industry, proudly displays one of these certificates. (Think of it like the Monde Selection awards, but limited to the Eunice Theocracy.)

Still, seeing this kind of place, a brothel that also engages in human trafficking, to hang such a certificate like it’s a badge of honor or a holy pardon… is hard to stomach. No—more than that, it lays bare the corruption and moral decay of the Church for all the world to see. I couldn’t help but question their integrity.

(What part of this place is supposed to be a “Holy City”…? Sure, on the surface it’s a peaceful town upheld by the Church’s laws and order, but really, it’s just a sham. They’re simply pretending the injustices and corrupt customs don’t exist.)

With those bitter thoughts in mind, we followed the silent young man Dan deeper into the building. Maybe because it was still early in the day, the shop was nearly deserted and eerily quiet.

From what little I could see as we walked, the first floor was laid out like an ordinary tavern, while the second floor and above seemed to contain private rooms.

As for the slaves…apparently, they were kept underground. Judging by the mana vibrations I could feel through the floor and walls, there were about fifty people down there, mostly teens to those in their early twenties.

The gender ratio seemed roughly equal. Their health wasn’t terrible…though slightly undernourished, they weren’t malnourished per se, and there were no signs of serious injuries or illness for now. Still, crammed into tiny four-and-a-half tatami-mat rooms with four to five people each, they all looked gloomy and drained, completely devoid of spirit or vitality.

“…Phew.”

It wasn’t quite as bad as I had feared, but even so, compared to the lively, bright-eyed slave children I’d seen later (well, thirty years from now) in the Central Capital, the difference was staggering.

An overwhelming urge rose in me to break them all out by force, consequences be damned, but I clenched my fists and held myself back.

Just ahead, Luke’s pet cat turned to look at me with heavy-lidded eyes that seemed to say, “What are you waiting for? Hurry up already.”

With a quiet sigh, I turned away from the underground presence, dragging my lingering guilt behind me as I moved on.

Eventually, we arrived at the destination, a particularly large private room at the very back of the second floor.

It was probably reserved for high-ranking clients or shady dealings, some sort of VIP room.

(Ughhh… so tasteless…)

It was an ostentatiously luxurious room.

In terms of sheer cost, it was on par with—or perhaps even surpassed—the VIP lounges of the Adventurers’ Guild or top-class hotels. However, the direction of that extravagance was entirely different.

Where the guild’s lounges and fine hotels aimed to create a restful space for both body and mind, combining carefully selected furnishings and materials with a restrained sense of harmony, this room was a gaudy mess of excessive decorations. From the walls to the ceiling, everything was slathered in gold and garish embellishments, laid on thick with no concern for taste.

And toward the back of the room stood what were likely slaves. Judging by their Stigma collars, they belonged to various races, all beautiful boys between the ages of twelve and seventeen, each one nearly indistinguishable in charm. There were about six of them, lined up in silence, clad in nothing more than cloths wrapped around their waists, standing in vulnerable display.

While I was inwardly cringing at the vulgarity of this nouveau riche display and the tasteless theatrics of it all, a massive slab of flesh—no, a portly middle-aged man—emerged between the line of boys, his entire body decked out in an eye-burning riot of brightly colored garments and ornaments. He walked toward us with an exaggerated, almost theatrical gait.

“Welcome, Lady Clara! To think the shrine maiden herself would grace such a back-alley corner of the city—what an extraordinary honor! I, Cipriano Cervantes, president of the Cervantes Trading Company, welcome you with all my heart!”

Stopping in front of us, Mr. Cervantes bent forward with great effort, his protruding belly heaving, his triple chin jiggling as he flashed us a broad smile of greeting.

Then, as if a spring had popped, he suddenly threw his torso back in an overly dramatic flourish.

“But still…! My word, the rumors did not do you justice! ‘Fish sink, geese fall, the moon hides, flowers blush’—such beauty defies description! A true peerless beauty, surely those words were meant for you! Why, even a goddess descended to earth would pale in comparison! Good heavens…! We’ve always taken pride in the exceptional quality of our ‘products,’ but it seems we must take down our sign. I am thoroughly humbled!”

“Fish sink, geese fall…?” “A peerless beauty”…??

I immediately turned around and looked over at the women of the adventuring party, Twinfang of the Snowy Peaks—each and every one of them striking and charming in their own way.

They were the very image of a garden in full bloom, a hundred flowers blooming in harmony. Truly, the phrase “one cannot tell the iris from the orchid” fits them perfectly. Compared to them, I was more like some weed sprouting in the cracks.

“—Please don’t look around like that, Lady Clara.” At once, I was gently chided by Kaisa, sounding exasperated.

“She’s talking about you, you know! You!” For some reason, Daniella snapped at me, rather combatively.

“Tch…! To think I have to play second fiddle here…” Even Margit, who I had thought of as one of the more mild-mannered and sensible ones, ground her teeth in frustration.

“Jealousy’s not a good look, you two. Don’t you agree, Nora?”

“Totally. Daniella and Margit always act like they’re surrounded by suitors and lords, playing the reverse harem game. Honestly, I think it’s kind of fun watching them squirm, right, Natalie?”

“Mhm. Standing next to Lady Clara, the rest of us are just ‘miscellaneous extras’ in the presence of the lovely shrine maiden.”

The twins, Natalie and Nora, exchanged devilish grins and nodded at each other knowingly.

“Grrr…!!”

Margit and Daniela glared daggers at me, faces full of jealousy.

“Eh…???”

Having no idea what was going on, I tilted my head in confusion.

“It’s not ‘eh?’… Pardon me, Lady Clara, but… have you ever actually looked at yourself in the mirror?”
“—? Well, yes, I have a vanity in my room at the church, so…”
“And? What do you see?”
“I always think the same thing—what a plain, unremarkable face I have.”

A face with no particularly striking features, simply balanced and subdued. Nothing interesting about it.

“…That mirror is probably broken.”

Kaisa let out a long, heartfelt sigh and muttered a baffling comment that left me tilting my head even further in confusion.

Support Us

Unlock Early Access ------- Select Project ------- Project Gender Bender Project Necro ∴ Support your favorite series and unlock chapters before the public release.