Guided by an auction attendant, Arlo strode arrogantly toward the special cell where he had left his slave. His eyes shone with expectation. Powerful allies would be useful if he ever meant to move against the damned World Nobles.
"Here is your merchandise," a burly man said, opening the door and bowing with a show of reverence.
Once the door closed, Arlo was alone with the girl. He looked her over from head to toe. She was too thin, trembling in the chains, clearly miserable in the position she'd been forced into. But what snagged his attention were her eyes.
Having lived more than a decade among slaves in Mary Geoise, Arlo had seen every kind: broken, bitter, resigned, and even the occasional revenge seeker like him.
He could understand their mentality better than anyone, and read a slave just from their eyes. He knew very well the look of a person who had nothing left to fight for.
Unfortunately, he also knew that: if the spark inside someone had died, nothing he did could bring them back, and certainly not into a swordsman worthy of being anything.If this girl's flame were out, it would be a shameful loss.
He decided to test her. First, he removed that ridiculous helmet and the mask. If he was going to speak with her, he needed to be truthful.
Besides, he knew his look could have a positive impact on her, as it always did on females; he was just too good-looking.
Then he approached, with the intention of pushing her to the edge, to see if she still could fight for her life.
"Do you wish to live?" he asked.
She opened her mouth and hesitated… the old, hollow reflex of the beaten. Her heart hammered; memories of a lifetime of pain flickered behind her gaze. "I… I don't know," she whispered.
"Then think carefully,"
Arlo's hand left the chain and closed around her throat.
He tightened until her vision blurred. The thought of having her go limp and finally be free would have been almost merciful.
Then a spark. Heat exploded. Sasha flared into life like a torch. It was brief, but terrifying enough to throw Arlo back. The flame died as quickly as it had come, leaving her shaking, and smoke curled from her hair. Her eyes, once empty, now smoldered.
Arlo allowed a slow grin. "So… you've made your decision, haven't you?"
She didn't know why she felt it, only that she refused to die like this. "I'm not dying here!" she cried.
Arlo moved closer, then snapped her chains free with his bare hands. Up close, the man was almost cruelly beautiful, with sharp cheekbones and an easy confidence that made people look twice. It was unfair how pretty he was.
"Then, come live with me," he said. "If you put your trust in me, I'll show you a future worth fighting for."
She barely knew him. But when she looked into his bright blue eyes, something like hope kindled. And the woman shyly took his hands.
Arlo pushed her closely and whispered in her ear.
"My name is Arlo. It is a pleasure to meet you."
"Hm… my name is Sasha," she replied in a quiet, deferential tone. "If I can be of any use to you, then please, show me this bright future you speak of."
As someone who had once worked as a servant, Sasha knew how to speak softly; her quiet politeness was still tinged with the tremor of fear.
"You don't need to be so formal," Arlo said gently. His tone was calm, almost soothing, yet his sharp blue eyes studied her with an unsettling precision.
It was only then that he truly looked at her as a whole. Her body was incredibly beautiful and sexy, but what caught his attention was the faint scars that laced her thin arms and shoulders.
He stepped closer. "These scars…" he murmured, reaching out slowly. His fingertips brushed the edge of one near her collarbone. "Who was responsible for this?"
Sasha hesitated, trembling under his touch. Her lips parted with visible effort.
"Before being sold here," she whispered, "my mother sold me to the island's commander… to serve him. He hated mistakes, so… he punished me often, because I'm a useless woman."
"Island commander?" Arlo repeated, his tone darkening.
She nodded weakly. "He's a Marine Rear Admiral. He used his influence to overthrow the previous government and now rules my homeland as a dictator… no one dares to oppose him."
Arlo's expression hardened for a moment, his jaw tightening, but then it softened again, replaced by a quiet, almost sorrowful smile.
"You don't need to worry, I will never punish you like that," he said, his sympathetic, beautiful smile already winning over the young girl's heart.
"First of all," Arlo said, turning his back to her, "I must show you something."
He removed his stupid clothes. Sasha's eyes widened in shock. There, etched deep across his back, was the unmistakable mark of a slave.
Her lips parted, trembling. "But… I thought you were,"
Arlo turned back toward her, a serene smile curving on his lips. Under the dim light, his skin gleamed faintly with sweat, each motion emphasizing the sculpted lines of his chest and shoulders.
He was really too fucking good-looking.
"Do you trust me?" he asked softly.
As he spoke, Arlo quietly opened the system interface in his mind. The familiar blue screen shimmered before him:
[Mission complete. +200 System Points.]
[Recommended Item: "True Love Slave Mark" – Cost: 50 SP]
The description appeared beneath it:
[Description: A seal that binds another through genuine affection. Activation requires two conditions: sincere attraction toward the user and voluntary acceptance of the mark.
Function: Prevents the slave from ever acting against the user. Grants the slave partial access to the user's skills and system functions, along with a boost to her power and growth rate.]
Arlo smirked faintly. The first condition would be simple enough; women were always drawn to him, even before he said a word. The second, though… that would require a moment of faith.
And looking at Sasha now, trembling, lost, desperate for any glimmer of safety, he knew she was on the verge of giving him exactly that.
"Yes…" she finally whispered, her voice small but clear. "I trust you."
Arlo smiled warmly, stepping closer, his shadow falling over her. "Then," he said softly, "allow me to tell you a story."
He knelt slightly, bringing himself to her eye level. And slowly, he told her a summary of how he had reached that point.
Arlo spoke of the Celestial Dragons' boundless cruelty, painting a picture of a world order built on the suffering of the innocent.
He detailed the utter corruption of the Marines, mandated to serve these tyrants. Arlo watched as his words found kindling in the girl's soul.
In her eyes, a small, grieving ember was fanned into a vengeful fire. It was a fire he was all too willing to stoke, to forge her into a strong weapon.
Finally, he presented the item he had just bought, explaining to her how useful it would be.
"So," he asked, his voice a low, compelling murmur, "would you be my partner?"
A profound silence settled over her, but Sasha was sure she wanted to follow that man, to finally be free from her life of suffering.
She sank to her knees before him. The cold stone floor became her humble altar, her submission a silent prayer of dedication.
"My life is yours," she whispered, the words not a surrender of will, but a dedication of it. "So please, if I can be of any use, make me into a powerful weapon to kill these bastards."
Once again, she spoke of her own value like that. Her self-esteem had been profoundly wounded by her past, but Arlo could deal with it later.
Arlo placed the cool, dark seal against the bare skin just above her heart.
Her eyes brightened, as she would forever be his slave. And then she fainted with no remaining energy.
"That went better than expected," Arlo murmured.
He ordered one of his slaves to buy clothes for the girl and told everyone to get things ready. He had spent too long in Sabaody and needed to depart as fast as possible. It would be really bad if they found out about Antoinette before he could escape properly.
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