The Most Satisfied Reincarnate

Desmond, feeling a sense of urgency, pressed further on the matter. His gaze fixated on the vacant name column, contemplating the potential consequences.

"Can I bestow her with a name? Would that have any impact on her?" Desmond inquired, recognizing the future complications that would arise from addressing someone without a name.

The presenter, caught off guard by the question, struggled to find a satisfactory response.

"It is inconsequential, young master. Even if you were to give her a name, she would merely act and respond in accordance with your directives," he assured, his smile unwavering.

Assured by the presenter's answer, Desmond shifted his attention to the maid, who dutifully opened the iron cage.

clank

Desmond turned his head to witness the cage door swing open, revealing the elf inside. However, the elf remained motionless, staring blankly ahead, devoid of any semblance of life.

"Very well, but will this spell maintain its effect indefinitely?" Desmond queried, remaining seated as his unwavering gaze remained fixed upon the elf.

The absence of emotion and the vacant expression in the elf's eyes piqued Desmond's curiosity, leaving him to ponder the potency of a spell capable of stripping away one's very personality.

"No, young master, the spell's effects will dissipate after a day. Should you desire to maintain control, the spell must be cast anew," the presenter elucidated, hoping that his explanation would be sufficiently comprehensible.

Nonetheless, he harbored concerns, as previous customers had often misconstrued his words and raised objections.

"I understand," Desmond responded, his tone measured.

Turning back to the presenter, Desmond extended his hand, his intention veiled in ambiguity. Perplexed, the presenter complied, retrieving a dagger from his pocket and offering it to Desmond. However, within seconds, a perplexed expression overtook his face.

Meeting Desmond's gaze, the presenter witnessed a frown accompanied by a series of subtle gestures, indicating an unspoken request. It was then that the presenter's eyes fixated upon Desmond's right arm, noticing the conspicuous absence of a certain body part.

The sight of the imbalance hanging before him evoked a disconcerting unease, akin to encountering a door with a missing key and an accompanying audible click resounding within his mind.

"Oh!" the presenter exclaimed, rising to his feet and cautiously aligning the knife towards Desmond's wrist. "Forgive me..."

Acknowledging the presenter's understanding, Desmond nodded approvingly, prompting the presenter to graze the blade against Desmond's wrist.

pop

A few droplets of blood trickled onto the scroll, causing it to emit a radiant glow as its contents underwent a subtle transformation.

The presenter, observing the entire process with mounting apprehension, swiftly returned to his seat, intently observing Desmond's and the elf's reactions, fraught with anticipation.

[Owner: Desmond]

Simultaneously, within the confines of the iron cage, the elf stirred. A pained groan escaped her lips, only to be stifled abruptly, as if the newly awakened consciousness had been swiftly subdued once again.

"Success!" the presenter exclaimed with unabashed enthusiasm, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow. "Congratulations, young master Desmond. I trust you will promptly fulfill the remaining payment."

Desmond, who had observed the proceedings with detached interest, felt an odd detachment from the situation. Perhaps it was the effect of the enslavement spell still entrancing the newly acquired slave.

"Very well, I shall conclude the payment now," Desmond replied, his gaze momentarily shifting to the maid who had already positioned herself beside the weighty money bag.

He anticipated a lengthy process, considering the copious amount of gold coins that awaited counting.

Yet, appearances proved deceptive. The presenter, muttering under his breath in a rhythmic cadence akin to an incantation, caused several gold coins to levitate from the pouch of their own accord.

After a brief pause, the maid deftly gathered the designated payment, as agreed upon, and handed them over to the presenter.

"Completed! Thank you for your purchase of this slave. Would young master Desmond prefer to be escorted home in our horse-drawn carriage?" the presenter offered, a hint of pride coloring his voice.

Desmond found himself lost in a daze, his gaze fixated and unyielding. It took the presenter waving his hand before Desmond's face to rouse him from his reverie. "Ah...yes..."

A realization dawned upon Desmond, unprepared for the efficient method employed that had caused him to momentarily forget the existence of the recording system. The presenter, noting Desmond's response, smiled with satisfaction.

"Before we depart, allow me to instruct you on the art of hypnotizing this elf," the presenter proposed, retrieving a small book from his shirt pocket.

It was evident that he had prepared the book in advance, as Desmond had not noticed any additional volumes within his possession.

"This book contains the necessary material to activate the spell, young master," the presenter elucidated as he extended the book to Desmond.

The book resembled a notebook from Desmond's previous world, its front page adorned solely with hypnotic incantations etched against a backdrop of velvety black.

Desmond perused the pages of the book, permitting the system to analyze its contents. "Very well, let us proceed," he declared, sliding the book into his pocket, paying little mind to the presenter's stunned expression or the entranced elf.

With determined strides, Desmond directed his focus towards the exit, leaving the VIP room behind, indifferent to the lingering shock etched upon the presenter's features or the ethereal presence of the captive elf.

"Yes, young master Desmond," the presenter responded respectfully, bowing slightly before departing to make arrangements for the carriage. The sounds of his footsteps faded as he moved into another room, dedicated to fulfilling Desmond's needs.

Meanwhile, the maid who had accompanied Desmond couldn't tear her eyes away from the elf before her. A mix of awe and admiration radiated from her expression.

"You are my lucky star!" she exclaimed, unable to contain her excitement. Leaning forward, she planted a gentle kiss on the elf's forehead, a gesture of genuine fondness.

With a playful glint in her eye, she mischievously smacked the elf's pert rear, eliciting a surprised yelp. "See you in the future, hehe..." she whispered, her voice brimming with playful anticipation.

The guard, a silent observer of this unexpected display of affection, stood there momentarily speechless, his mouth agape.

He struggled to find the appropriate words to respond but could only manage a bewildered expression, his eyes darting between the maid and the elf.

...

Exiting the VIP room, Desmond didn't immediately depart the auction but instead embarked on a leisurely stroll through the exhibition area, immersing himself in the ambiance.

It felt akin to wandering through an opulent museum, albeit one where the artifacts were remnants of failed auctions now available for direct purchase.

With each step, Desmond surveyed the array of items on display. His gaze fell upon a magnificent gray sword, suspended like a prized painting, encased behind a sheet of glass that tantalizingly separated onlookers from physical contact.

The sword exuded an air of mystery and allure.

Positioned at the sword's base, a silver-coated plaque proudly showcased its price and storied history, providing a glimpse into the weapon's illustrious past.

Moving on, Desmond's eyes fell upon an intriguing spellbook, its title withheld, offered at a reasonable price. However, the enigmatic origin of this arcane tome presented an intriguing puzzle for Desmond to unravel.

"Hmm..." he mused, his mind a whirlwind of contemplation. "There's much to consider within these hallowed halls."

Meanwhile, the portly man who had previously challenged Desmond found himself wandering through the same area, his frustration evident in his grumbling tone.

"Dammit! Elves are so rare! And it seems there's always someone obstructing my path!" His voice carried a tinge of bitterness, betraying his deep-seated desire to trade for the prized elf on auction.

Alas, once again, his aspirations were thwarted by another bidder who had successfully secured the elusive slave.

"Last time, the elf was a mere 2000! Now, the price has skyrocketed! If only I had foreseen this turn of events, I might have sought a loan from Matson!" he lamented, his thoughts swirling with a mix of regret and frustration.

As he continued his pensive stroll, his attention suddenly shifted to the figure of the person who had unwittingly become the source of his vexation, the one who had managed to acquire the elf he so desperately coveted.

Observing from a distance, the chubby man's eyes narrowed, a spark of annoyance flickering within his gaze.