I Woke Up In Another World As A Slave

The Baron's cold sword pressed against his chin from below. He swallowed hard.

"I will not repeat myself," the Baron said.

He was at a loss for words. What do you mean 'who sent me here'?

"I don't know," he blurted out.

The Baron tilted his head to the side. In the moonlight, he could make out the Baron's piercing gaze from his green eyes.

"If you want to stick to that story, then I'll make sure it's written on your tombstone," the Baron said. "No further questions are needed if you don't feel like answering."

The Baron slowly extended his sword. He turned the sharp edge toward his neck, ready to strike him down. There wasn't a hint of hesitation.

"I don't know. I truly don't know. I woke up in this place without any memories," he pleaded. "I was told that you bought me. I thought you knew why I'm here."

He immediately noticed that he had forgotten to address the Baron properly. He pressed his forehead into the dirt.

"My Lord, you have to believe me when I say I don't know what happened before today. Please," he begged, "forgive me for not being of any help. I don't understand what's happening either. I don't even know my own name."

This is so humiliating! But what else can I do? I refuse to die here!

"Is that how you explain your Status?" Baron Bonatelli asked as he slowly lowered his sword. "Don't worry, I'll make you talk."

"What?" he asked, his voice weak.

He had heard the term 'Status' before but had no idea what it entailed. He raised his head to meet the Baron's eyes, searching for an explanation. The Baron still looked down on him with a penetrating intensity. His heart sank.

"I must say, you're the first to cause me such a headache. Who was it? Are you one of Xuang's spies? He doesn't have the means for that beyond the border, right?" The Baron started rambling. "Was it Blair? He might've found out. He's a tricky one. Or was it—?"

The Baron suddenly fell silent, his eyes searching the dirt for a moment before they fixed back on him.

"That bitch is siding with the HU," Bonatelli mumbled.

The sword in the Baron's hand began to tremble. He cowered further as the Baron grew increasingly unstable.

"It's Leonhard, isn't it?" The Baron's eyes flared with rage.

He couldn't even begin to understand what Lucio Bonatelli was experiencing.

The Baron screamed: "Answer me!"

He's manic!

"I don't know these people!" he said, his voice trembling.

The Baron wasn't satisfied with that answer. He glanced at the other Adventurers. Pressed to find out the truth, he raised the sword again.

"I heard all about your schemes. Don't play dumb with me," he threatened, "it's Leonhard who sent you. That sounds like her."

The sword's tip lightly danced a deadly pattern on the skin of his neck. One misstep and it would be all over.

"Wha—What schemes? Who's Leonhard? I have no idea. It's the truth!" he stammered before adding: "My Lord."

The Baron tightened his grip on the sword. His muscles were so tense that the sword began to shake.

"You better stop lying if you wish for a quick death." Bonatelli began to press the tip of the sword against his throat.

He flinched and fell backward, screaming.

"Stop squirming, you worm!" the Baron shouted. "You're up to something. Why else would a Player hide among the NPCs?"

The Baron repeatedly stabbed his sword into the ground between his legs.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, trying to dodge the flurry of attacks.

"You went straight for my prized possession! What are you trying to achieve by coddling up to those ones and zeroes?" Bonatelli demanded answers like a madman.

"What ones and zeroes? I don't understand! You have to believe me, please," he begged between cries of pain.

The Baron halted his assault, breathing heavily. He looked like he needed a quick break too. They stared at each other for a moment as he checked his legs for any cuts. Finally, Becket broke the silence.

"My Lord," the Sword said, "I don't believe he is lying."

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"Silence," the Baron commanded.

Then Reacher spoke up: "If he's not a spy, then this is a PvP crime."

Bonatelli's eyes shot in the knights' direction.

"Sometimes when you don't know what you are talking about, you better shut your mouth," the Baron threatened them, "or I'll have you reassigned to the Front Lines."

It didn't take long for the Baron to regain his composure.

"Ones and zeroes," the Baron repeated as if to clarify the previous question, "what are you plotting with my NPCs? Be very careful with your answer."

He didn't know what to say, but he had to give an answer, no matter how confusing the question was. Even though the Baron had ceased his attack, he knew time was short if he wanted to survive. He saw Reacher and Becket, arms crossed on the sidelines. Did Reacher rat me out? Surely, this isn't about a few missing gems.

His mind blanked. He couldn't think straight. He looked around frantically. He saw the other knight with the battleaxe, the litter, the slaves. Nothing came to mind. Nothing, really? Nothing at all?

Just the sword, and the eyes, and the void behind both.

The Baron grew restless. He laid the blade of the sword on his other hand and inspected it. One could almost hear the inner debate on when to strike. A sense of dread filled the air. What ones and zeroes? What plans? Think!

"I suppose no answer is an answer," the Baron said. "I grow tired of this. I'll find out what you've been doing here some other way."

With that, Bonatelli raised the sword above his head. The sword's edge glimmered white in the moonlight. He knew he couldn't fight back. Helplessly, he looked over to PP, still kneeling by the litter. He wouldn't help him this time. There was no hero coming to save him. This was where it ended for him. No, please, no!

As the Baron began to swing his sword, his eyes caught the red mantle. The word 'Status' resurfaced in his mind, and something clicked. As the sword descended, he clung to a very faint hope. It was an answer he wasn't sure would help him, but an answer nonetheless. With no more time to lose, he closed his eyes and prayed that whatever he blurted out next would save him.

The Baron halted his assault abruptly. Confusion flickered across his features, yet the sword lingered menacingly above the slave's shoulder. After a tense pause, Baron Bonatelli sought clarification.

"What did you say?"

He must have hit a nerve with his answer. His heart thundered within his chest. With a quivering voice, he repeated what he had just said.

"So, everyone except the Blitz family is merely worthless to you?"

Bonatelli appeared slightly mollified.

"Explain yourself!" the Baron demanded.

Struggling to articulate his thoughts, he blurted out whatever sprang to mind.

"You're calling us a bunch of ones and zeroes. Is that all we are to you? Everyone who is not noble is just a piece of trash?"

The Baron's face lit up in amazement. Bonatelli cackled loudly. Taken aback, he fell silent.

"No, please, do continue," the Baron urged, amusement clear in his tone.

He attempted to marshal his thoughts into a coherent argument.

"Would you really end a life over some missing gems? Are we of that little value to you? What's wrong with you Adventurers?"

The Baron clapped his hands, laughing. He glanced at the other Adventurers, as though inviting them to share the joke's humor, but no one laughed with him. His eyes fixated on Reacher.

"Well, Paladin? Isn't that something? The slave willingly joined the NPCs. How's that a PvP crime, then?" he asked incredulously. "A bit of RP never hurt nobody."

RP. PvP. Status. What kind of world is this?

Reacher forced himself to suppress a grunt. Baron Bonatelli refocused on the slave sprawled on the ground.

"Alright then, Player," he said with a wicked grin, "I'll humor you."

Bonatelli sheathed his sword and composed himself, adopting a more earnest demeanor.

"You're right, slave, you're all replaceable pieces of trash except the Blitz brothers. They're the only ones with any speck of importance among you because their presence maintains order," Baron Bonatelli explained menacingly, "and keeping them alive guarantees my peace of mind for the coming year."

He shifted uncomfortably from one knee to the other as they grew increasingly sore. The next year? What is he up to?

"Now," the Baron declared, "I've been informed that your presence here has caused certain… disruptions I had to take care of."

"I'm sorry, my Lord," he said.

A sharp pain shot through his leg as the Baron kicked him in the knee with pointed boots, causing him to topple over in agony.

"I wasn't done talking," the Baron stated, pressing his face into the dirt with his boot.

Reacher grumbled and stamped, but Becket restrained him. The armored knight with the battleaxe maneuvered his horse between the Baron and the knights as a wordless warning.

"Firstly, you turned up at the mines without sufficient pickaxes. What did you plan to do, play cards?" the Baron asked sarcastically.

He struggled to respond: "I had no choice!"

"No need to worry, I've ensured there are enough slaves for the tools." The Baron lifted his boot. "Secondly, instead of submitting your quota, you chose to steal from me and lie to my subordinates."

He attempted to rise and explain: "I didn't! They disappeared—,"

But the Baron's boot pressed him back down.

"Your punishment will be 40 hours in the Slaughterhouse! If, that is, you survive the next part."

What's wrong with him? He's not even listening!

"Finally, and most crucially: you target my prized possession, instigate rebellion, and damage my property by starting a brawl."

Before he could respond, the Baron interrupted.

"If you desire it so much, then why not test it? You can settle your debt with a fight. It'll be a trial by combat!"

What is he talking about?

The Baron snapped his fingers, and from the group of slaves, the largest one emerged, chains clinking in the silence. Bonatelli gestured to his right, and PP took a few steps before disappearing into the ground. A loud thud indicated PP had landed in a hidden pit.

"Get in there!" the Baron commanded.

The Baron permitted him to stand, but he hesitated to pass by. A sound behind confirmed his action.

It was the clopping of the armored knight's horse accompanied by a shout: "Move it!"

He approached the pit's edge, glanced back, and saw Reacher tending to his horse while Becket watched with folded arms and disappointment. The Baron, nearly skipping with excitement, brandished a small flask.

"I almost forgot," Bonatelli said, "drink this!"

He caught the flask and, despite misgivings, forced himself to swallow the warm, red liquid. Instantly, the pain in his knees vanished, and fatigue lifted. It's that magic again!

"Don't hold back," the Baron said, "because it certainly won't."

He clenched his teeth each time the Baron referred to PP as 'it'. Prized Possession, huh? What an asshole!

"What are you waiting for? It's time for some late-night entertainment." The Baron shooed him towards the pit.

He looked around again. Not a single slave spoke. Not a single knight blinked. Fine…

The pit was deep enough for PP to be fully engulfed in it, about the size of the slave camp. It was mostly empty, save for a few trees that had fallen in. He jumped, landing on soft mud. He looked up as slaves positioned Bonatelli in his litter. The Baron settled in while knights encircled the pit on horseback. He turned to face the large man before him, so massive he blotted out the moon. I'm in deep shit!

"Five minutes in the pit," Bonatelli shouted, "a minute for each stolen gem. Now begin!"