I Woke Up In Another World As A Slave

Even though he'd heard the words before, they struck Stick harder this time—like a sudden, invisible blow to the ribs.

"You look like the Great Hero."

He shifted in his chair, staring down at the uneven grain of the inn's wooden table. The fire snapped quietly nearby, but its warmth didn't reach the question turning over in his chest.

I really look like Arslan? So Cadmun didn't say that to make me feel better?

He opened his mouth, tried to speak, to ask something—anything—but the thought clogged his throat.

Who am I?

Before he could say a word, Nakamura leaned forward, voice slick with false confidence.

"Well, if you know us, maybe you should treat us with more respect."

Stick winced. What are you doing?

Redfield didn't blink. He exhaled a thin curl of smoke and answered coolly, "Your friend said you're not Carnifex. You didn't correct him. So if you're not Carnifex anymore… why would I respect you?"

"Stupid fucking bot," Nakamura muttered under his breath.

Redfield's voice was like cooled iron. "In here, you're just guests. And as guests of this inn, you also have to pay. Let's say… one gold and eighty silver."

"What?" Nakamura barked.

"Per person," Redfield added without flinching.

Nakamura jumped to his feet, slamming his hand on the table. "This is unacceptable!"

Stick clenched his jaw. Stop it!

"Pardon the lack of manners," Redfield went on, calmly puffing his pipe, "but we're fresh out of food, patience, and energy to keep up appearances. If you don't want to pay, you can leave."

"You can't kick us out!" Nakamura shouted.

Redfield rose, slow and steady, until they were eye level. "Of course I can. Your company sours me, but the leftover hare will be exactly what I need right now."

The scent of the meat had begun to drift in from the kitchen—rich and sweet with herbs. Stick didn't want to leave. Not just because of the food, but because this was the man from his secret quest. A Level 10 Player and Redfield at the same place? This was no accident. He couldn't let Nakamura ruin it.

"Who do you think you are, treating Players like this?" Nakamura said, practically snarling now.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

"I already told you," Redfield said. "I'm Ceridwen Redfield."

Nakamura's hand went to his lance. "Know your place, NPC."

Redfield didn't flinch. "I'm already there. I get extorted by Carnifex Adventurers every week. Actual Carnifex members. And you? You're not even wearing the uniform anymore."

Smoke drifted into Nakamura's face, and for a moment, it looked like he might strike.

"Well in that case—"

"Shut up!" Stick stood suddenly, voice sharper than he meant. "Just shut up, Nakamura!"

The inn went dead silent.

Even the fire seemed to hold its breath.

Nakamura stared at him, scandalized. Big Man looked up. Redfield said nothing. The tension hung thick in the air, like woodsmoke that refused to rise. Only the soft sizzle of herbs in Redfield's pipe cut through the stillness.

Then a voice broke through.

"So, who's hungry?"

Tanja reappeared from behind the bar, holding two steaming plates. Her timing was absurdly perfect.

Big Man raised his hand slowly.

Nakamura sat down with a scowl. Redfield chuckled softly, smoke curling from the corners of his mouth. The food was served without another word.

Later, after they'd eaten their fill of roasted hare and salted roots, the fire warmed the corners of the room. The wind clawed at the windows, and Nakamura still grumbled about the five gold and forty silver he'd surrendered.

Redfield had retreated to the upper floor after nearly choking from laughter when Stick introduced himself as a Page of House Blitz. His cheeks still burned from the memory.

That's everything I got from the mysterious innkeeper before he left… Maybe tomorrow we can talk about his hair. Or mine, for that matter…

Tanja's voice broke the silence again.

"So," she asked, spearing the last bit of meat from her plate, "how was it?"

The others were deep in their own thoughts, so Big Man answered first.

"Delicious. Thank you."

"Really?" Her face brightened. "I usually mix up salt and sugar, so I can't cook well…"

Stick took his final bite of meat—far too sweet—and forced a polite smile. "No, really. I liked it."

"I'm glad." She beamed. "Maybe I can cook for you again sometime?"

Stick nodded, lips pressed together. "Sure."

Then Nakamura, predictably, cut to business. "What does a Level 10 Player do in Pridtur?"

"I, uh…" Tanja lowered her fork. "It's a long story."

Stick noticed the hesitation. "Don't worry," he said gently. "We have time."

"Yes," Nakamura said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Just start at the beginning."

Tanja looked down at her plate.

"No," Stick said firmly. "That's not what I meant."

Nakamura leaned in. "Why aren't you in Carnifex?"

"Stop it," Stick snapped. "What is wrong with you today?"

"What do you mean?" Nakamura asked, genuinely confused.

"Why are you so confrontational? They've done nothing to you, but you keep trying to dig into them. Is it because they're lower level than you? Just look at her! She's clearly uncomfortable."

Tanja's cheeks flushed red.

"You don't think it's odd?" Nakamura said coldly. "There are no Players left under LVL 15. Especially not in the east. Except her. And you."

Stick hesitated. He's not wrong.

"And she lives with a quest-giver?" Nakamura pressed. "And she's in another guild? That's illegal inside Carnifex jurisdiction."

Stick rose again. "Not everyone wants to enslave people."

Nakamura's glare sharpened. "I'm just saying, this stinks to high—"

"Enough. Enough, enough!" Tanja shouted.

All heads turned.

Her hair had come loose, strands sticking to her flushed face. She leaned over the table, hands trembling. Her freckles stood out stark against her red cheeks.

"Please stop fighting," she said, her voice cracking. "Not because of me. I'll answer your questions."

She straightened but was still barely taller than Big Man sitting down. She looked almost… cute, Stick realized. That caught him off guard. His face warmed. A glance at Big Man told him he wasn't the only one thinking that.

Nakamura clicked his tongue, leaned back, and muttered just loud enough: "Why so emotional…"

The words barely reached Stick, but they simmered there, burning quietly.

It took a long moment before anyone spoke again.