I had known from the very beginning that they never intended to send us back.
Ever since Anna disappeared, I had been tracking similar missing person cases. At first, the disappearances seemed random—isolated incidents scattered across different locations, different circumstances. But the patterns were too deliberate once I knew where to look.
To gather information, I infiltrated police databases, sifting through dismissed reports of vanished individuals—cases conveniently written off as anomalies, thanks to the world's correction effect erasing all traces of their existence. That was where I began.
From there, I widened my scope.
I installed thousands of security cameras and deployed drones in strategic locations. I tracked telephone numbers that abruptly became inactive and monitored their last known signals. It was a straightforward process, though it required a staggering amount of resources.
Fortunately for me, money wasn't an obstacle. What would have bankrupted most people was little more than a drop in the bucket for me.
In the end, my efforts uncovered a chilling truth: Anna wasn't the only one.
Over the past twenty years, hundreds of individuals had been summoned to another world.
Not a single one had returned to Earth.
And now, as I stand here, I'm beginning to understand why.
Many of them were never meant to return.
Because they were never heroes.
They were turned into slaves instead.
———————————
"So, who are our highest bidders this time?" Sophia asks nonchalantly as she prepares the glowing slave collars, her tone casual as though discussing mere livestock.
The bearded knight beside her smirks. "That handsome guy fetched the highest bid," he says, nodding toward me. "Even without any talent, the ladies were practically fighting over him. In the end, Lady Arina offered a whopping two million crowns! Guess she really has a thing for men like him, huh? Haha."
"Oh, naturally!" Sophia exclaims, her tone suddenly lively. "Lady Arina does love her men young and handsome, doesn't she?"
Then, without warning, she strides forward, closing the distance between us with a lazy elegance. Before I can brace myself, she presses her face against my abdomen, her breath warm even through the fabric of my shirt. Her hands roam across my chest, fingers tracing the contours of my muscles.
"Oh my," she breathes, her voice dripping with desire. "He's so young… and these muscles." She presses harder, as if testing the firmness of my body, her fingers trailing along my torso like a sculptor inspecting their latest masterpiece. "Are we absolutely certain he doesn't have at least a Heroic Rank talent? With a body like this—oh?"
Her hand begins to slide lower…
"HEY! STOP!"
The other knight, the one without a beard, instantly interrupts. "Are – are you even allowed to do that? If you touch him there, he will wake up!"
Sophia rolls her eyes, her expression equal parts annoyance and mockery. "Oh, shut up," she retorts. "There's no way anyone can break through my spell once it's been successfully applied, unless their mental resistance is through the roof. And besides," she smirks, her fingers trailing along my chest again, "I'm just making sure this man is in prime condition to serve Lady Arina. Don't tell me… you're jealous of him, are you?"
"Haa!? Jealous of a sex slave?" The knight recoils, his face flushing with a mix of outrage and embarrassment. "Are you out of your damn mind!?"
Sophia tilts her head, her grin widening like a cat toying with a particularly amusing mouse. "Jeez! Then why are you getting so worked up?" she teases, clearly enjoying his discomfort.
Satisfied with her torment, she finally withdraws from me and turns her attention to Yumi.
"So, what about the little girl?" she asks, her tone noticeably less playful.
The bearded knight shrugs, checking a parchment before answering. "She's going to Count Marevilla. Half a million crowns. Cute, but other than that, nothing special."
Sophia's lips curl in disgust. "Ew. That old man? Isn't he, like, seventy-five? What the hell?"
"Yeah," the knight replies, his expression indifferent. "Total sick bastard. But hey, not our problem, right?"
For the first time since she walked into the room, Sophia's mask of amusement falters. Her fingers tighten around the collar in her hands, her usually confident posture stiffening.
"…Yeah," she mutters. But there's something in her voice—something brittle.
The bearded knight notices. "Hey," he says, giving her a look. "Just do your job. If you think of them as livestock, maybe it'll be easier."
Sophia hesitates.
Then, with a deep sigh, she nods.
"Yeah…" she whispers. But her voice carries none of the smug confidence from before.
————————
Hearing their conversation, my stomach churns violently. Just hours ago, we were heralded as heroes, celebrated with grandeur. Now, we're nothing more than merchandise, destined to be sold to the highest bidder. The thought of becoming a sex slave—a toy for the worst kinds of people—fills me with a fury I've never known.
It's a fate worse than death.
I always suspected the King had secrets, but this absolutely belongs to the worst scenarios.
Sophia, seemingly composed again, returns to her craft table to complete the spell. Then, as she comes back with the knife, she draws my blood. My red liquid drips onto the iron collar, it begins to glow once more, the strange runes pulsing.
Even without knowing the exact mechanics, it's clear what Sophia is doing. She's binding me through blood, creating an unbreakable connection that will force me into servitude. Once the collar locks around my neck, I'll be nothing more than a puppet, enslaved to her commands.
But then, just as she's about to secure the collar, she suddenly hesitates again. Her hands tremble slightly, her expression faltering.
"What are you doing? Don't tell me you're feeling empathy for them?" the bearded knight asks.
"Huh? No!" Sophia snaps. "What are you talking about?"
Yet, her discomfort is unmistakable.
I wonder what that's about.
Well…
Not that it matters.
Because there's no way in hell I'm going to let her finish this.
Just as she moves to secure the collar—
I strike.
Lightning-fast, my hand clamps around her wrist. Her eyes widen in shock, but before she can react—
BAM!
I slam my fist into her face.
A sharp cry escapes her lips as she crashes to the ground, her body twisting on impact.
"WHAT!??" The two royal knights are stunned.
They quickly regain their composure in less than a second though. After all, royal knights are all trained to respond to any situation. Swords are drawn in a blur of motion as they charge toward me, their movements precise and deadly.
"NO!!!" Sophia screams from the ground. "DON'T KILL HIM! WE NEED HIM ALIVE!!!"
Even after having her face slammed down so hard like that, she still has the strength to shout!
But to kill me or capture me again?
Like hell I would let that happen easily!
Sure, I have trained in martial arts, but squaring off against two royal knights isn't something I'd bet on. So, how can a newcomer like me overpower the two elite knights of the King?
Well, the answer is simple.
BANG!
BANG!
BANG!
BANG!
The deafening shots ring out.
My custom-made Desert Eagles gleams menacingly under the dim light.
Two knights.
Two bullets each, direct hits to their faces—double-tapped.
Their heads explode in a grotesque spray of blood, brain and bone, painting the walls with crimson mush.