"Ryan is such a good boy, and yet Lord Holman punished him again. Poor child…"
"Yeah! What can you expect? Ryan's an orphan, and on top of that, he's the lowest kind of slave. Now, Ryan will probably be sent to the back mountain's horse stables to replace his cousin who made a mistake. Poor Ryan…"
"That's right, that's right. Not only is the back mountain full of wild beasts, but the food is terrible too. If the master's horses get sick or lost, the stable keeper will be as good as dead. But if the master were home, Holman wouldn't dare do this. After all, the master is a knight!"
"Shh! Holman's cunning is almost as sharp as a mole's eye. If he hears you saying this, he'll find an excuse to punish you. He loves being called 'Lord.'"
Two men, dressed in ragged clothes and looking weak, whispered in the corner. Not far in front of them was a large courtyard, more like a playground on Earth, with two men and a plump woman standing there. One of the men, small and frail in linen clothes, was Holman, the butler, whom the two men had just spoken of. The other man, wearing light armor, was Tory, the town sheriff and captain of the castle's guard. The plump woman, dressed in more luxurious clothing, looked very haughty, suggesting that her status was higher than both Holman's and Tory's.
"Lady Aria, I caught Ryan stealing bread from the bakery. According to the rules, he should have his hand chopped off," Holman said with a grin, bowing to the plump woman, though his words sent a chill down anyone's spine.
"Hmph!" Tory, who knew Ryan's character, grunted. Ryan, only 13 years old, had grown up in the castle and was soft and timid. There was no way he would steal bread, so it was clear this was a scheme orchestrated by the crafty Holman. However, Tory didn't care much. For a slave, such small matters weren't worth his attention. Rather than concern himself with this, Tory preferred to think about how he could flirt with the tavern owner in town. His grunt was more out of disdain for Holman's methods than concern for Ryan.
"This is such a small matter, Holman. Didn't you realize the lady needs someone to attend to her? You dragged me all the way back from Harry Town just for this?" Lady Aria, who was dressed more luxuriously than Holman, scolded him loudly, her jowls wobbling as she spoke.
"Lady Aria, it's not as if the master is here. You are the one in charge, and I didn't dare make any decisions on my own," Holman quickly replied, fawning over her with a smile.
"Hmm, since Ryan made a mistake, we'll follow the rules. But the master is a knight and often asks us to show mercy. So, I'll send Ryan to the back mountain to tend the horses. He may return to town once in three months. That's settled then. Now, I'll go enjoy the vegetable salad I made myself," Aria said before walking toward the gates. A carriage awaited her outside, with something sword-like on it.
"Lady Aria, Lady Aria! The hunter in town caught a blue fox the other day. I've already had the pelt sent over," Holman fawned, following her with a broad grin.
"Oh? A blue fox? Well, thank you for that," Aria replied, surprised at first, then smiling in response. However, her plump, wrinkled face didn't exactly make the smile look pleasant. Even Holman flinched, but he quickly reminded himself that Aria was the master's closest confidante and also the lady's nominal supervisor. So, he forced down his disgust and continued to flatter her.
"Alright, boys, take this little brat back for some treatment. When you bring supplies to the back mountain in a few days, take him with you," Tory said, seeing that everyone was leaving. Two guards, dressed in leather armor and carrying large swords, dragged Ryan to the rear of the castle and threw him into the room where he used to stay. They then left without offering any medical treatment.
"Ouch! Ouch!" Ryan slowly regained consciousness, groaning from the pain in his bruised backside.
"Heaven above! Earth below! How did I end up like this? I just stole a piece of bread, and it was the lowest quality black bread at that, and I get beaten up like this? Ugh! What era is this? This looks like ancient Europe. How did I, Kent, end up here? I'm a good person, even though I haven't done anything remarkable, but I haven't done anything bad either. How did I get reincarnated? I want to go home. I want to watch anime, play games, read novels, and post on forums… Ugh! I just want to go back to being a lazy otaku! At least my backside is just bruised. If this were ancient times, any bleeding would risk an infection with a 90% chance of death!" Kent complained loudly while lying in bed.
It turned out that it wasn't Ryan who had boldly stolen the bread; it was Kent, an otaku from Earth who spent 300 days a year in front of his computer. One day, he woke up to find a pile of bread. Though it looked dark and rough, the smell of bread was unmistakable. In his sleepy state, he grabbed a piece and took a big bite. However, it tasted coarse and unpleasant. Before he could spit it out, he was caught and beaten senseless. Kent, who was terrified of needles, would rather spend 100 dollars on medicine than take a 10-dollar shot. As the leaders discussed what to do with him, Kent regained consciousness. But too afraid to get up, he pretended to be unconscious, enduring the pain until the guards left. Then, he began complaining aloud.
Once the pain in Kent's backside began to subside, he started pondering what era he had ended up in. However, what troubled him the most was that all of Ryan's memories provided was that this small town was called Terry Town, and Terry was the lord of the castle—a great knight. There were also powerful figures like Holman, the manipulative steward, and Tory, the captain of the guards, along with a plump woman named Aria. The rest were just the townsfolk. The only other notable figure was a flamboyantly dressed woman, likely the tavern owner, whom Ryan had only seen once. Since Ryan didn't have a single coin to his name, and entry to the tavern required gold coins, there wasn't much else to remember.
Kent struggled to recall more, but realized that the conditions described matched many places in medieval Europe. The two most important words were "knight" and "gold coins." If he had access to a browser, there would be millions of results, but for Kent, that was essentially a zero. Even worse, he realized that escaping wasn't even an option. Ryan had been a slave, not a servant. Servants at least got a salary, but slaves had nothing—not a single coin. Kent thought bitterly to himself, if only he had some gold, he might be able to figure out the exact time period. As an otaku, Kent had amassed a lot of knowledge—ranging from the general structure of an aircraft carrier to the principles behind firearms. Even something as simple as how a nail clipper was made, Kent had some understanding. Of course, it was basic knowledge—enough to hold his own in an online debate, but when faced with something more serious, he would just laugh it off.
At least Kent was relieved he could understand the language here, though his own grasp of it was limited.
"Damn this slave society! I can't even eat a piece of bread without getting my hand chopped off. Human rights, where are you?" Kent grumbled as he looked down at his clothes. He shook his head helplessly. His outfit was like a bedsheet with a hole cut in the middle, folded over. As soon as he moved, his bare bottom felt the cold air. It wasn't that Kent didn't want to lie down on the so-called "bed," but to call it a bed was a stretch. It was just a thick wooden board. Kent tried to analyze the materials of the board, but if it were made of living wood, he might have had a chance of recognizing it. As it was dark and rough, he would need technology to figure it out. But none of that mattered. What really bothered him was the uncomfortable feeling that he hadn't bathed in years. Kent knew that in medieval Europe, bathing was practically an invitation for the church to launch an inquisition, which is why people relied on perfume to mask their stench.
"My God! Is this really a castle?" Kent thought as he looked around. He didn't want to be called Ryan anymore, as Kent was a much better name. But he feared that using his real name might attract too much attention, so he made himself stick with Ryan. However, what irked him was that Ryan's name and identity weren't like that of the heroic Ryan from Saving Private Ryan—he was just some poor slave.
Ryan looked at the two-story wooden structure. It was large, with one half resembling a playground and the other half a massive log cabin, two stories tall, surrounded by a large wooden fence. His bedroom, which consisted of only a wooden board, a wooden bowl, and a rickety table, was hardly what one would call a comfortable place to sleep. There was no blanket—just piles of firewood beside his "bed." Ryan knew this grand wooden house was what passed for a "castle" in this world. Inside, there were only two servants and himself, a slave. Holman and Tory lived in a separate house. The two servants were responsible for cleaning and maintaining the castle, while Ryan himself had to gather firewood and bake bread for Holman and Tory's households. The two servants and Ryan were given only a black, mushy substance that tasted horrible.
But Ryan couldn't afford to worry about food at the moment. What bothered him most was the increasing itchiness all over his body. He decided to head toward the water source, which was located behind the large wooden house. It was the only water source for the entire estate.
"Not again, Sisi! I'm going to take a bath!" Ryan snapped impatiently. Sisi was a dog-like creature from Earth that was used for guarding the place. It was just the creature's name, but Ryan was still accustomed to yelling at it. However, when he looked at Sisi, he froze in shock. He collapsed onto the ground, momentarily forgetting the pain in his backside. This creature was not just dog-like, but more like a pangolin, with a head adorned with a horn and covered in black scales. Its limbs were thick and sturdy, resembling a large lizard. It looked menacing. The only explanation for such a creature was that this was no longer Europe, but a completely new and unknown world.