"Do you know him?" I whisper.
"I do," Sophia says, her grip tightening on my arm, her body trembling. "He's a cruel slave master, owning hundreds of slaves. Don't let their appearance deceive you. Though they're all women, some of them are really, really strong. I know because I worked with him for a while. He gave those women to me, and I turned them into his slaves."
"Is that so? What are their stats like? Are they stronger than me?" I inquire.
"Bromrik isn't strong," Sophia answers. "But his combat slaves are all well-trained. None of them are as strong as you, except the two girls walking by his side. Despite being only Elite Warriors, their speed has already reached that of Champion Rankers."
"You mean those two elves? The ones with daggers?"
"Exactly," Sophia affirms. "Moon elves. Deceptively fast, ruthlessly efficient. Wait, are you seriously intending to fight them? Can you even get out of this barrier in the first place?"
"Well, there's something I would like to try."
I pause to reassess. Sophia's insight strikes a chord: in this world, looks can be profoundly deceiving. The elven pair, initially overshadowed by the bulkier figures around Bromrik, possess a delicate frame, smaller even than a teenage girl's, giving an impression of fragility, almost malnourishment.
Menacingly, Bromrik approaches us. Seeing his grotesque face up close, surrounded by the bevy of attractive women, I can't help but think of a certain distasteful yet popular genre of adult anime.
"Well, well, if it isn't my dear Sophia!" Bromrik chuckles, his voice dripping with malice. "And what do we have here? A handsome man and a cutesy little girl."
Yumi instinctively edges further behind me upon hearing his words.
"We want no business with you, Bromrik," Sophia retorts. "We've known each other and worked together for so long. Can't you find it within yourself to show some conscience? Let us go, and we won't cause any trouble."
"Trouble? My dear, if I release you, the only trouble I'll face is losing out on six million crowns!" he sneers. "And conscience? Sophia, you know me! Do you really think I'd possess such a thing?"
At Bromrik's callous reply, Sophia's complexion pales, while I can't help but laugh quietly at the absurdity of it all.
So, that's the situation. Understandable.
The bounty on our heads is so ludicrous that even those who were once allies with Sophia, like Curtis and now Bromrik, are revealing their true colors.
"M-master," Sophia whispers to me. "Do- do you have any platinum left?"
She probably hopes to bribe our way out of here, realizing our next-to-zero chance of victory in a fight.
"I do. But do you honestly believe he'd let us go if we paid him?"
Not a chance.
Curtis only agreed to our deal because he knew Bromrik was coming and wanted to milk us for all we had. But Bromrik the Chainmaster? He wouldn't release us; he'd likely kill us. That way, he'd gain both our platinum and the hefty bounty.
"Then… what should we do?" Sophia asks, her voice trembling.
"Simple," I reply, then quickly load my gun with my platinum bullets.
Sophia looks at me, confused.
I suppose it's because she never learned the basics of guns. Sure, she knows how to shoot, but I haven't taught her how to reload one.
So, with confidence and bullets loaded, I aim my gun straight at Bromrik's head. He seems to believe the barrier between us offers protection, but I know better.
"Yumi, look away," I whisper.
Bromrik eyes my weapon with mockery. "Hoho! What do we have here? A magic wand?" he sneers. "Go ahead, try your magic! This barrier is of rank 5! No one can possibly brea–"
BANG!
The deafening shot reverberates in the vast chamber. The barrier shatters. The platinum bullet, with unerring precision, finds its mark, drilling itself deep into Bromrik's skull.
And just like the knights I had dispatched earlier, a spray of gore marks the end of Bromrik the Chainmaster.
It is just that easy.
As Bromrik's life comes to an end, I step through the remnants of the broken barrier, observing the motionless forms of the female slaves around me. Their eyes remain empty, devoid of emotion. Their lack of hostility doesn't surprise me in the least. Slaves obey their master's commands, and with no master to command them, they have no reason to act otherwise.
Moreover, as a slave owner myself, I am now well aware of how a slave contract works: a slave can never harm their master nor disobey the master's orders.
But the most important thing: when the master dies, all the slaves will instantly perish.