Undead Beast Master: Living Solely for My Desires

First things first, Zaroth wanted to get a better knowledge of the city and the way it functioned.

So, he went to where the crowd was thickest: the market. But this was no ordinary market. While there were vendors selling food and various goods, the primary trade here was in people. Women were the most common for sale, followed by men.

Some of them were locked in giant iron cages, packed tightly with more than twenty people inside. Judging by the prices, Zaroth realized these were the cheapest slaves—sold for no more than a few silver coins. They were mostly old, unattractive, or ill individuals.

Next were the ones in smaller, individual cages, clearly made specifically for them. These were more expensive and had been given better living conditions.

Most looked hardened and rough—men and women with nothing particularly wrong with them physically or mentally. However, they didn't seem to excel in anything; they weren't especially attractive or muscular, just average.

Then there were the ones that were kept in place with chains out in the open, making them easier to see as one walked on the streets.

Their prices were in the dozens of gold coins, but they were special compared to the rest. The men were tall with large and muscular frames—some of them even bore scars, either from fighting a deadly beast or from the physical labor they had endured.

The women, while not breathtaking, were undeniably beautiful. Zaroth could easily imagine a man from a poorer region working for weeks, months—maybe even years—just to save enough to buy one of them.

But the ones that interested Zaroth the most were the ones that did not have any restraints on them—not even a single chain.

The men that were apparently slaves did not look like it at all. They were dressed in armor, some light, medium, or even heavy, with deadly weapons on their backs.

The women, meanwhile, resembled models. Despite their status, their skin was flawless, their faces nearly symmetrical. They wore revealing clothing that accentuated their best features—some had fuller breasts, others wider hips or slimmer waists. Some were simply stunning in the face.

Even Zaroth—the one who had slept with many and seen countless beautiful women—had to admit they were stunning.

It was easy to guess that they were the most premium slaves one could purchase in the city, and they caught Zaroth's attention for two reasons.

First, although he now had a fair amount of wealth, he had spent most of his life in poverty. That upbringing had made him extremely reluctant to spend money frivolously. So when he saw their prices, he nearly had a heart attack. Hundreds of gold coins—some even in the thousands! The thought of it! Zaroth had never owned that kind of wealth. How could anyone amass such fortune?

But the more important thing was that they stayed in place, not moving. The women could have made use of their slender bodies and mixed in with the crowds, escaping, while the men could have used their weapons to kill their owners and escape. So why didn't they?

Zaroth didn't understand how this system worked—and he didn't like that. If he intended to find the elf and destroy the city, understanding how it functioned was essential.

Knowing he wouldn't find answers on his own, he approached one of the merchants who owned several of these high-tier slaves.

It was a woman with long hair that covered her eyes as well. She was lazily laying on one of the sofas with a large pipe in her mouth as she was puffing some kind of drug into her system.

Two of the men that were without any kind of restraints were almost naked, most likely trying to attract the attention of potential female buyers, and were using fans to blow her some air.

One woman without chains sat close to her owner with a plate full of grapes, feeding them to her master from time to time. She too was almost naked, trying to trap the men.

'I will have to ask some questions, and considering that it could seem strange as to how I do not know how these things work, somebody like her that seems to be high has a low chance to suspect me of anything,' Zaroth thought as he stopped a few meters away from her.

Clearing his throat, wanting to catch her attention, he spoke, "Excuse me?"

It took a few seconds for the woman to register that somebody had talked to her. A pale smile appeared on her lips as she stood up on her two feet and approached Zaroth.

"Oh my, a potential customer? Did someone catch your fancy?" Zaroth was surprised—despite clearly being high, the woman spoke with perfect clarity, as if completely unaffected.

'Maybe she's developed a resistance to whatever she's smoking,' he thought.

"Yes, actually," Zaroth lied with a smile like it was second nature to him. Sadly, due to the black mask he had gotten from the bandit corpse earlier, it was invisible.

Pointing to the woman with the plate of grapes, he spoke. "As I was walking by, I felt like fate was bringing us together."

Seeing that Zaroth was pointing at the woman, the smile of the merchant cracked for a second. He of course did not miss that.

'Perhaps she's her favorite… or something more?' he thought.

"Ah yes, she certainly has the knack for catching the male's attention. But I want to warn you, good sir, she is quite expensive—five thousand gold coins."

A few seconds passed in silence as Zaroth froze. At this moment, he wanted to yell at the woman, 'Five thousand coins?! Do you have any idea how many weapons I can buy with that?!'

For some reason, he felt insulted just hearing the price. Sure, they were talking about a human life—but if some were priced at just a few silver coins, how could there be such a vast difference?!

However, on the outside, he appeared calm. "I see… that is certainly out of my price range…" he muttered. Then a second later, he continued, "…if it is okay, can I ask you something?"

The merchant woman was expecting Zaroth to storm off, but the fact that he remained surprised her greatly.

"Of course. What is it?"

"The truth is, I'm quite new here. I was wondering… why do some of the slaves have no chains at all? Aren't you afraid they'll run away or attack you?"

She blinked at the question. For a moment, she thought he was mocking her—it was such basic knowledge in this city. But as a merchant, she had to maintain her composure. So, she decided to explain.

Motioning with her hand, the woman that was carrying the plate left it on the nearby table and went to them.

Making a small prick on her finger, the merchant woman drew a speck of blood and let it drop on the slave's back.

Immediately, a large, reddish-colored tattoo appeared on the woman's neck. It circled the whole of it and went down to her breasts and more firmly to her heart, and it went far on her back as well.

"This is why," the merchant said, "it is also why some slaves are so expensive. It's because of this—the slave contract."