Chapter 14: CH 14

“Is everything all right?”

“Yes. All the slaves brought in by the master are very talented and worth teaching. I think they are motivated by the debt of gratitude for saving them from the brink of death and the hope that they can live again. I understand that feeling very well. I had a similar experience once. However, thanks to that experience, I was able to wake up and find my true master, Kaisar-sama, whom I am supposed to serve, and I am enjoying the bliss of being able to serve you every day…”

And then Melissa started talking like a machine gun with vigour and intensity reminiscent of a nerd talking about their favourite hobby. She rambled on about how superior I am, how much she adores me as a person, as someone of the opposite s*x, and so on.

I let the contents flow into my right ear and out my left as I made my way to the (temporary) headquarter of my ‘Secret Society,’ which was taking shape, albeit slowly.

Someday I hope to make the headquarters into a well-constructed mansion.

Just imagining it was like a dream come true.

A secret society of mine, by me, for me. And the head will naturally be me.

How can a man not be excited?

When the slaves and Melissa’s men saw me, they stopped their training and got down on one knee and bowed to me, although they were in the middle of combat training.

“Were you in training? I see. Sorry to interrupt, keep going.”

With these girls by my side, I entered the (temporary) headquarters and discussed our future with Melissa.

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I told Melissa to pass on knowledge of my previous life to improve our fighting strength and explain how to read and write Japanese and other languages.

The slaves absorbed knowledge like dry sponges and quickly grew.

◆

“Useless piece of s**t!”

“F-forgive me.”

“Enough! Get out of my sight! Now!”

In contrast to before, when I was having a good day avoiding the death flags, I could feel the air in the Kvist household was getting worse day by day.

Melissa never came home, I never showed any sign of dying, and servants were disappearing by the time he noticed. Gurd Kvist, my father and lord of this household, yelled at his servants at the peak of frustration.

The way he blames the servants for his frustration at his own misjudgments was like the boss I had when I worked for a black company in my previous life, which made me despise my father from the bottom of my heart.

However, it’s still good when the anger is directed at the servants because I find it unbearable when it’s directed at me.

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