I Woke Up In Another World As A Slave

Stick stared at the iron bars, his chest heaving.

"What the fuck are they thinking?" he hissed.

Stick stood awkwardly in the cramped space, his back pressed against the damp stone wall. The pit was barely wide enough for the two of them, and he was all too aware of PP's looming presence just inches away. PP remained silent. He didn't say anything, but the look on his face was enough for Stick to understand. Just an hour ago, he had rejected the Carnifex offer with as much dignity as he could muster. And now, here he was—shoved into a pit like an animal, his freedom ripped away yet again.

"Here, let me help you," Stick muttered, gesturing to PP's gag.

He clumsily climbed onto the big man, balancing awkwardly as he reached to untie it. When he finally yanked it loose, the Prized Possession spat directly in his face.

"Hey!" Stick recoiled, wiping the spit off his cheek, but a clinking sound on the ground snapped his attention away.

"I nearly swallowed it," PP muttered gruffly, lowering his head.

Stick squatted and ran his fingers over the dirt. It didn't take long to find what he was looking for. The key!

Stick wiped the saliva with his clothes to better inspect it. "Shackle Key (Prized Possession)?"

That's right! He wore his restraints before!

His eyes shifted to PP, who stood watching him. Stick hesitated for only a moment before holding out the key. PP's expression darkened. He pressed against the wall, his shoulders stiffening, as if Stick had offered him a knife instead of a chance at freedom. Something in Stick snapped.

"Stupid game!" he shouted, flinging the key against the wall.

The sharp clink echoed through the pit, then faded into the silence. For a long moment, neither of them moved. Then, a low, gravelly voice drifted from the next cell.

"So…" it drawled. "Not even children are safe now?"

Stick's head snapped.

"Who's there?" he demanded.

The voice chuckled, the sound low and dry. "I could ask you the same."

Stick's eyes darted through his cell, trying to find out where the voice of the unseen man was coming from.

"I'm not a child, you know," Stick said defensively.

Stick saw a small hole between their cells where the voice was coming from, but in the darkness of the pit, he couldn't make out anything. He could only hear that the voice had a rough edge, like it hadn't been used in months.

"You sure sound like one," the voice said, its tone dry and mocking.

Stick clenched his fists, his knuckles brushing against the damp floor. The stone was slick, and the coldness seemed to seep into his bones. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to focus. From the ground, he picked up the key he had thrown earlier and slipped it into his Inventory.

"My name is Stick," his voice wavered but steadied. "I was lined up to be an Officer with the guild. Who are you?"

The words felt hollow, like he was trying to convince himself they meant something. The voice on the other side paused for so long that Stick began to doubt he'd get an answer.

Finally, it came again, low and slightly amused. "Well, Stick… you must've really fucked up to end up in here."

Stick stiffened. "I didn't do anything."

"If you didn't do anything, then why are you here?" The voice didn't press, but its tone made it clear: it didn't believe him.

"I… I don't know."

"Well, you went to the royal chambers, didn't you? I suppose they're off-limits for everyone now."

Stick's stomach dropped. "How do you—?"

"There's not a lot going on here," the voice interrupted. "And you can hear pretty much everything."

Stick swallowed. "I see. So… what about the royal chambers?"

"You saw the king, didn't you?"

Stick frowned. "So?"

"Then you know how the world works."

"I don't think I follow. Is he some sort of god I'm not allowed to see?"

The man's laugh echoed through the dungeon, harsh and mocking. "A god? No, far from it."

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Stick's frustration flared. "Will you just tell me what's going on?"

The voice paused, as if deliberating, then retorted, "What are you? Some NPC?"

The question caught Stick off guard. "No, I…"

He glanced at PP, whose silence was unnerving. Stick hesitated, fearing he'd struck a nerve.

"Who are you?" he asked again, trying to steer the conversation.

There was another long pause before the voice spoke again, a biting edge in its tone. "I grow tired of this."

The silence that followed felt endless, broken only by the faint dripping of water and the distant murmurs of guards. Stick pressed his back against the cold, uneven stone wall, the chill biting through his clothes. His thoughts churned in the quiet. Had he made the right choice in declining Carnifex? The weight of his decision gnawed at him. This cell feels more like a tomb than a prison.

A sudden, agonized scream cut through the quiet. Stick's head shot up, and he exchanged a glance with PP. The scream was faint, coming from somewhere behind the huge doors.

The voice from the next cell stirred. "Sounds like there's a new prisoner."

Stick's stomach turned at the thought of Shadis.

"How can they be like this? Who does that?"

"Everyone who needs to," the voice replied nonchalantly.

"What kind of monster would need that?" Stick's voice was edged with disgust.

"Well, if you had the chance, wouldn't you take the EXP?"

"What are you talking about?"

The voice sighed, as if explaining to a child. "You really don't know, do you?"

"I'm not sure."

"When a monster drops to 0 LP, it dies. You know what LP stands for, right?"

"Life Points?" Stick guessed.

"Exactly. But for humans, 0 LP isn't a death sentence."

Stick nodded slowly. "Yeah, that's when the God of Life Protection stops working, but you're still alive."

The voice chuckled darkly. "Of course, the Protection. Anyway, once a human hits 0 LP, all attacks that hit… hit for real. The damage you take at that point becomes permanent. I wouldn't recommend getting hit by a fireball at 0 LP."

"Right…"

"On the flip side, as long as you have even 1 LP left, you can absorb the biggest attack. That's what we call the 'Arslan Threshold.'"

Stick's eyes widened. "The Arslan Threshold? You mean the hero?"

The voice laughed. "Yeah, him. He was a real daredevil."

"You knew him?" Stick asked eagerly.

"Of course. He was one of my best friends." The voice softened, a tinge of nostalgia creeping in. "Loud, cheerful, and reckless. He didn't care about orders. He'd rush into battle at 0 LP, heal himself, and take another deadly hit like it was nothing. Found a way to refresh his Protection at just the right time to mitigate even the gods' strongest attacks."

"That's incredible!" Stick said, his admiration obvious.

"That's why it's called the Arslan Threshold. No one else was crazy enough to try it."

Their conversation was interrupted by another scream, louder this time, accompanied by the sound of a heavy blow.

Stick tensed. "They said he wouldn't be tortured. Are they… are they going to kill him?"

"The Court of Carnifex is… merciless. You'll learn that soon enough." The unseen man said, "You see, whenever you kill a monster, you get experience points, like in any other video game."

"I'm sorry," Stick called back, "but what does that have to do with Shadis?"

The unseen man sighed again. "As I said, it's different for humans. Humans don't die at zero LP. But the game registers it as a kill anyway and awards EXP."

Stick felt a chill run through him. "So if you pass the 'Arslan Threshold,' you get EXP from NPCs?"

"Exactly," the voice replied with grim certainty. "The trick is to heal them back over the threshold, reduce them to zero again, and repeat."

The realization made Stick's stomach turn. "So they're getting EXP by torturing him?"

"Yes, and it's something you'll have to deal with for a long time."

Stick's fists clenched in the darkness. "This is awful! Why would they do this?"

The voice laughed humorlessly, its tone sharp. "Why? Because Carnifex Soldiers can only get to LVL 25 in the lands they control. Any leveling zone between 25 and 45 is beyond the border. The capital's right at the very end of the 40s zone. Anyone who wasn't at least LVL 43 when the war started has no way to LVL up past 25. That's why there's such a massive gap between Commanders and Soldiers. A power disparity like that… well, it invites abuse, doesn't it?"

PP turned away, his knuckles whitening around the chains still bound to his wrists.

Stick's jaw tightened. "I've seen it myself."

"It's disappointing, I know. Even the Officers who started out in the mid-ranks—LVLs 25 to 50—looked down on their subordinates. Soldiers desperate to climb the ranks, to get stronger… A bunch of rats that don't know their place."

An uneasy feeling crept up Stick's spine. He leaned away from the hole separating them. Disappointing?

"When word got out that you could 'defeat' NPCs and gain experience, it was chaos. People ran rampant, stealing and brutalizing them. They turned basements and attics into EXP farms, crippling NPCs repeatedly. Some misunderstood the mechanic and killed them outright." The voice paused, then continued, colder now. "No one could stop it. Morals, orders, even threats didn't work. It took a bloody crackdown to end the revolt. The property damage alone… what a waste."

Stick's hands trembled. "Then why are they hurting Shadis now? If it caused such chaos, wouldn't this be illegal?"

The man in the other hole chuckled darkly. "Illegal? No, it was never illegal—at least, not as long as it was your own property. But most people don't own high-level NPCs. Then someone—a particularly pragmatic German—came up with a better idea. He suggested using the guild's prisoners—those with life sentences—as EXP farms. That way, Soldiers who performed exceptionally well could earn promotions to Officer. It kept the peace, strengthened the army, and ensured loyalty. It was a brilliant plan, really. That's why most Officers are LVL 35 now."

Stick bit his lip, anger rising. "And Shadis?"

"Calm down," the voice said with a hint of mockery. "Each Player can only get EXP from an NPC once. That's why they need so many. It will take time, but it will end."

"I don't want to wait," Stick snapped. "I have to get him out of there as soon as I leave this hole."

The voice grew quieter, almost pitying. "That won't be possible."

"Why not?" Stick demanded, his heart pounding.

"Because the mere fact that you're talking to me means you'll be in here for life, too."

Stick felt the weight of the words settle over him like a suffocating blanket. The faint cries from distant cells echoed through the darkness, a haunting reminder of the cruelty he was now entangled in. But even as despair threatened to overwhelm him, a spark of defiance flared in his chest.

"We have to get out of here," he whispered to himself.

The man in the other hole chuckled again, his voice fading into the oppressive silence. "Good luck with that."

Another scream echoed through the dungeon, cutting through the silence like a knife. Stick's resolve hardened. Whatever it took, he would get them out of there—and he would make Carnifex pay.