The Jilted Noble Lady's Windfall

Chapter 6

Saigant is considered Odin's second-largest city. Due to its port location and proximity to the Dark Forest in the humanoid realm, Saigant gradually earned titles like “Commercial Capital,” “Fashion Capital,” “Entertainment Capital”... and “Slave Capital” as Odin's conquests expanded.

Naturally, the laws of every nation explicitly declare human trafficking an unforgivable crime. Even nobles who commit such heinous offenses cannot escape punishment. Royal family members might merely evade the death penalty, but they would still be required to spend the next twelve years atoning within the sacred towers of the Church Nation.

Consequently, the slaves traded within Saigant are predominantly humanoids or half-breeds.

Under the nations' “One-Eighth Rule,” any half-breed with a humanoid ancestor among their great-grandparents is denied all civil rights.

Since the Church decreed humans superior to other sentient beings, the world's rulers—favored by the gods—could harm other species with impunity.

A saying circulated in Saigant's largest slave market:

“If you can't find a weapon or toy to your liking, it's because you haven't visited Saigant's slave market.”

While ordinary folk must pick through discounted slaves at shady roadside stalls, a figure like Marianne naturally commands access to the market's overseer. Through their connections, she secures the exclusive services of several top-rated slave traders.

“Listen, this is a big-spending client. If we keep her happy, we won't have to worry about this year's sales figures.”

On the way to the noble's private box, a well-known slave trader repeatedly reminded his heir.

Though slave trading was one of Saigant's largest revenue streams, compared to high-margin goods like jewelry and clothing that held their value longer, it couldn't be called a fast or particularly lucrative business.

After all, constrained by environmental factors, training cycles, and the unpredictable nature of the slaves themselves, slave traders often faced the awkward predicament of substandard goods being hard to sell and premium stock attracting no bids. However, the flip side was that landing just one major deal could guarantee profits exceeding expectations for the entire year.

Their major clients were either large-scale buyers like arena owners or military commanders purchasing hundreds at a time, or high-value customers specifically seeking premium stock.

The slave traders summoned by the market's overseer weren't certain which category Marianne fell into. But given that the overseer himself had arranged the meeting, it was clear she intended to spend a fortune here.

According to the slave market overseer, Marianne and Lucius first visited the most seasoned slave trader.

He was reputed to supply numerous dignitaries and nobles, and even the late Emperor Odin had purchased some discreetly prized specimens from him.

When Marianne requested to see his warehouse, the dealer hesitated briefly. But after Lucius gave him a discreet signal, he immediately beamed and invited the two clients into a relatively clean building.

“To be perfectly honest, I'm the most quality-driven veteran dealer around. Whatever your requirements, I can find you the finest specimens.” Before entering the warehouse, the slave trader specifically handed Marianne a mask to avoid the unpleasant odors inside.

“You seem very confident!” "Marianne followed the slave trader, surveying the cages stacked high on either side.

Inside were the humanoid slaves for sale.

Perhaps because buyers had grown particularly fond of purebreds in recent years, mixed-race slaves were rare here, allowing Marianne to easily identify their races based on their physical features.

“Money isn't the issue. The thing is, I'm picky. I don't care much for the common goods on the market.” After scrutinizing them for a while, Marianne showed not the slightest interest in the slaves who were barely alive, their eyes dull and lifeless. She therefore remarked with considerable arrogance, “Sir, don't ruin your reputation with me.”

Hearing Marianne's words, the slave trader didn't show anger. Instead, his smile grew even brighter than before. He'd served many nobles, including plenty of demanding, discerning clients with sharp tongues. Such customers often meant they'd likely purchase the carefully trained, high-grade specimens.

At Saigant, a premium slave commanded at least a thousand times the price of ordinary stock.

Among them were rare, elusive specimens or aristocrats among humanoid species.

For one of humanity's baser instincts was to utterly destroy all that was beautiful.

“Allow me to boast a bit in front of you,” the slave dealer remarked before opening a door engraved with multiple seals. “If a discerning customer can't find their ideal piece here, then no one in the entire slave market can serve you.”

He added, “That is, provided your ‘discerning taste’ doesn't exclude the most crucial factor—money. After all, you get what you pay for!”

As the heavy door scraped open with a jarring screech, Lucius instinctively gripped his sword hilt, shielding half his body in front of Marianne.

Unlike the sickly slaves they'd seen elsewhere,

those “hidden” here by the dealer were rare specimens ordinary folk seldom encountered.

Most were burly men in their prime, chained or pinned to the walls with special runes.

Some heartbreakingly beautiful elven or half-orc maidens were confined in small cages, their eyes filled with a longing for death.

“For your safety, I advise against choosing those temperamental half-orcs.” " The slave trader signaled the warehouse keeper to tighten the restraints on the premium stock.

Disturbed by the visitors, several half-orcs struggled violently, attempting to tear Marianne or the slave trader apart. They were instantly immobilized by a barrage of spells from the warehouse keeper, their faces contorted in agony against the walls.

"Now that's a method of slave management I've never seen before. “Marianne surveyed the restrained slaves and teased the slave trader, ”If you could sell me this warehouse keeper, perhaps I could challenge the most unruly premium stock."

Facing Marianne's request, the slave trader maintained his usual “I can arrange anything for you” confident demeanor: "What's so difficult about that? Just tell me your requirements, and I'll find you a high-grade specimen skilled in slave management."

“A high-grade specimen for managing slaves? You mean having slaves manage other slaves?” Marianne was genuinely surprised. “Is that even possible?”

"Why wouldn't it be? For a seasoned slave trader, training a slave to manage other slaves is far easier than breeding a high-grade specimen.“ With that, the trader gestured toward the warehouse manager, his voice brimming with pride: ”That warehouse manager you praised? He was originally a slave for sale."