Daisuke's eyes narrowed shrewdly. I guess sending a slave to warm my bed is Reginald's idea of a housewarming gift, he thought with a hint of annoyance. He must really want me to stay of my own volition.
The Beastkin looked everywhere except in the direction of Daisuke's face, uncomfortably fiddling with her fingers. Her small lips were pursed in a prim manner, her cheeks flushed, eyes trembling.
"Come inside."
The girl did as she was told, scooting inside barefooted. She hugged herself tightly, trying to soothe her anxiety. But it was simply replaced by dreadful anticipation.
"Get into bed and lie down."
"…."
Teary-eyed, the girl once more conceded to the command. Daisuke's face remained a perfectly cool mask as he approached her. With each confident step he took, the girl's heart pounded even louder.
Time seemed to slow to a crawl as his hand began reaching for her, and she held her breath, her eyes squeezed shut in anticipation. However, instead of facing assault and abuse, she felt the bedsheet being pulled up to her neck and her head being stroked tenderly.
"Don't worry," reassured Daisuke with a soft smile. "I'm not going to hurt you."
At the same time, April mumbled in her sleep, shifted, and nestled closer to her newfound bed companion.
Daisuke's smile widened. "That's April. She's harmless."
Bewildered, and at a loss for words, the girl looked from April to the silver-haired boy. But she didn't dare speak out of turn. Instead, she keenly observed and waited.
"What's your name?" Daisuke inquired gently, his tone coaxing. "Do you remember it?"
"..."
"...Just so you know, Sylvia trusted me with her name."
At this, the girl's ears perked up, a glimmer of curiosity in her eyes. "...Tina."
"Tina," Daisuke repeated with warmth, tenderly running his hand over April's hair and then hers. "You can stay here tonight. It'll give the impression that you've accomplished your task. Take care of April for me; I'll be stepping out for a little while."
Tina nodded meekly in agreement.
Meanwhile, Daisuke walked to the center of the room and began pacing back and forth, a hand beneath his chin as he deliberated his next move.
His mind raced as he vividly recalled the filing cabinet in Reginald's study. If he aimed to devise the perfect escape plan, he needed access to the manor's blueprint. Yet, his search of the library had yielded no results; the filing cabinets remained the only other likely place where he might find what he sought.
But how do I get there? I'm sure the door is being watched considering my circumstances.
Daisuke glanced around the room, hoping the décor might inspire an idea. To his delight, he spotted something even better. Tina peered out from under the sheets as he carefully stacked a few pieces of furniture to help him vanish into the upper layer of the ceiling.
***
After painstaking effort and the destruction of countless spiderwebs, Daisuke finally maneuvered through the musty and dimly lit space until he reached a familiar room beneath his feet. After confirming that the coast was clear by cautiously peering through the seams in the woodwork, he carefully made his way outside, utilizing the ceiling-high shelf as a foothold.
Little did Daisuke know, he had unwittingly activated a small transmutation circle etched into the floorboards of the ceiling simply by making contact with it.
Quietly descending the ladder into the office, he could now hear the soft voice of a girl. Amidst her gentle cries, he discerned the passionate panting and moaning of a female in the throes of desire.
Through the partially transparent screen dividing the office from the lab, Daisuke could clearly see the animated silhouette of a figure engaged in intimate activity. Accompanying the scene were the sounds of heavy breathing and groaning.
It was Reginald.
Daisuke wasted no time. He urgently slinked toward the filing cabinets and began searching until he found what he sought. Then he immediately returned the way he came.
"Please," the girl muttered breathlessly, pleadingly. "Please stop! No! No more!"
Daisuke felt his heart drop, and he fastened his eyes shut and clenched his teeth. He knew—he could tell without a doubt that the intimacy between Reginald and the girl wasn't consensual, not even in slightest.
But what could he do?
As far as he was concerned, he was just a regular NPC, or perhaps even less. He had no «Stats» or «Skills», which meant he lacked strength or power. He didn't possess any weapons or items, nor did he have capable allies. How could he possibly navigate a hostile confrontation between Reginald and his subjects?
"I'm so sorry," Daisuke whispered dejectedly, and then he was gone.
***
RUMBLE~
The sporadic growling of hungry bellies intermingled with the screech of crickets. With her heightened sense of hearing, Sheba could vividly perceive the distressing sounds, and it shattered her heart.
Releasing her knees, she shifted onto her back atop an uncomfortable bed of hay. It was only her first night, yet her back was already developing an infernal ache. All around her, the other Beastkin slaves shared the same makeshift bed, and the thought of those who had endured longer than she had pained her deeply.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, a hand shot out from the darkness and clamped over her mouth. Sheba panicked, squirming and attempting to scream into the hand until she recognized the familiar face. The figure stood silently, pressing an index finger to his lips.
"Shhh~" he whispered.
As Sheba stilled and quieted herself, the silver-haired boy removed his hand with a wan smile.
"H-Haxks," Sheba uttered in a hushed tone, her surprise evident. "How... what are you doing here?"
"I come bearing gifts," he explained, gesturing towards the large sack at his side.
With the blueprint safely in hand, Daisuke had effortlessly made his way to the kitchen through the ceiling, where he raided its pantry. Afterwards, he moved stealthily towards the slave quarters situated behind the manor.
The building, as one might expect, was a rather inhospitable place. The structure, reminiscent of a hybrid between a house and a barn, was hardly welcoming. Within its walls, the Beastkin cohabited with a family of horses, sharing their living space amidst the lingering scent of manure and urine.
Despite the less-than-ideal conditions, the slaves—primarily comprised of children and young adults—eagerly consumed the food Daisuke provided, their hunger outweighing any discomfort.
Those who had eaten their fill felt a change in their spirits. Their expressions shifted from the shadow of want to a glimmer of contentment. Children, whose laughter had been stifled by their circumstances, began to play, their newfound energy a testament to the revitalizing power of even the simplest meal.
Among them stood Sheba, her heart filled with relief and joy. The atmosphere buzzed with cheerful sounds, a stark contrast to the somber mood that had hung over the space just moments before.
"Now, everyone," Sylvia called out in a commanding tone. "What do we all say to Mr. Langley for bringing us food?"
"Thank you!" they chimed in unison.
Then, in an instant, they were all back to running around and playing once more.
Daisuke smiled ruefully, and then his gaze fell upon the hooded girl with the enigmatic presence. She was nestled in a quiet corner, distancing herself from the flurry of activity.
With a silent understanding, Daisuke secured provisions before they ran out—a loaf of bread, crisped bacon, and a cup of water. Approaching her cautiously, he extended the food, the simple gesture a bridge between two worlds, between the noise and the stillness.
The girl kept her head low, her petite frame trembling in the biting cold of the frigid night. Her body visibly stilled as she felt the comforting embrace of an orange scarf being delicately wound around the hood of her cloak.
"Even the darkest night will end, and the sun will rise," Daisuke whispered in a velvety tone, butterscotch eyes smoldering with sympathy. "If it's the last thing I do, I promise I'll get you out of here. So try to keep up your strength; it will also help to keep you warm."
Daisuke didn't wait for a response. He turned on his heels and began making his way over to Sheba and Sylvia, completely unaware that fleeting exchange had forged a cosmic connection that went beyond words.
Crimson-red eyes surreptitiously peeked out from depths of the girl's hood as she tenderly ran her fingers over the fabric of the scarf. Perfect, unpainted lips parted to breathe a word of gratitude, but then she swallowed them down, stifling the resonance that hummed between them.
Fear of monsters & the unknown: 41.2%