CHAPTER 57: SAVE OR SLAVE (2)

Looking down at the clothes he was wearing and feeling the cold wind tickling his slightly rounded belly, Gara could only let out a sigh.

"Line up. Now." The man in black barked the order sharply.

Gara moved slowly, taking his place at the very back of the line. Right behind the elf, who, just as he’d expected, was tall. Maybe just a bit shorter than Madha.

"Move!" the black-clad man’s voice rang out again.

As they walked out of the cage, the man sprayed something on each of them. A fragrant, sensual scent filled Gara’s senses.

They looked weary and pale, sure, but everyone was clean, none of that strange stench typical of ordinary slaves.

Clearly, they had been groomed carefully to catch the nobles’ attention.

Once again, Gara could only sigh, especially as he passed the man in black, who looked at him like he was a feast.

They were then herded down a dimly lit corridor. At the very end stood an old wooden door, worn with age.

It creaked open.

Being the last in line, Gara couldn’t see what was inside the room, only that it was brightly lit.

But as he stepped forward and his eyes adjusted to the light, he found himself in a luxurious room, it was nothing like the decrepit door that concealed it.

His feet stepped onto a soft brown fur carpet that matched the walls, which were draped in dark brown tapestries. Above, a chandelier of gold and silver shimmered, fitted with six Fire Light Orbs, no wonder it was so bright.

Beneath that chandelier stood three wooden chairs, padded with thick, dark blue fabric featuring intricate patterns. Ornate carvings adorned the armrests and headrests of each chair.

In front of them stood a gleaming reddish-brown wooden table, its legs decorated with elaborate carvings.

Against the walls, Gara spotted cabinets displaying antique, luxurious ornaments.

Seated on the three chairs were not-so-young men—more accurately, old men—chatting idly among themselves as five young men, including Gara, were brought in.

Satyo stood between the nobles who were dressed in brightly colored clothes with accessories that clearly marked them as high-ranking.

"Gentlemen," Satyo said, putting on a shrill, overly cheerful voice, "I present to you five fine goods for your selection."

Gara glared at him and felt like throwing up. In front of the villagers, this man had acted like a respectable Liner. But in front of nobles, he was nothing but a groveling lackey.

Satyo didn’t notice Gara’s disdain, he was too busy giving elaborate background stories for each of the five young men now on display.

Gara too didn’t really catch what he was saying, he was busy talking to Goddess Freya in his head.

These old noblemen. There’s no way they’re not interested in me, right? But then why aren’t there any heart icons above their heads?

He already had a guess, given that the grandmas and grandpa in village didn’t have one either. He just want to make sure.

"They don’t qualify for the system. Did you really think you could get pregnant by some old geezer?!"

I wouldn’t want to, obviously. But biologically, shouldn’t it still be possible? I mean, men still produce sperm even when they’re old...

"I don’t understand half the things you’re saying. But the system can’t guarantee conception in one try with old men. There’s an age limit."

So that was one of the system’s rules! It had to ensure pregnancy in a single attempt.

No wonder he’d immediately known he was pregnant just the next days after sleeping with Langga.

But the idea was terrifying. Just one time—even if he tried not to get pregnant—he still would.

"WHY WON’T YOU LISTEN, HUH?" Plakk

Gara’s thoughts shattered at the sound of an angry shout from the noble in the center. His large hand slapped the young man with soft-pink hair across the face. The boy collapsed to the side, falling helplessly. A red handprint stood out clearly on his pale cheek.

The two other young men, along with Gara, trembled. Afraid the slap would be aimed at them next.

But unlike the others, Gara wasn’t trembling out of fear, he was trembling with rage.

Only the elf didn’t react, his gaze remaining blank and empty.

"Hey! You in the white shirt!" The noble who slapped the pink-haired boy pointed at Gara.

"Gara, come here quickly. Show respect to Lord Dhimas," Satyo commanded.

Gara shot a sharp glare at Satyo but still walked forward slowly. He wanted so badly to slash off Satyo’s and those nobles’ heads with his water slash, but unfortunately, the iron collar around his neck blocked his Talent.

Goddess Freya, will you let me be humiliated by a man who can’t even give me a child? At least let me use my Talent.

"This is all your plan after all. You have to take responsibility."

I didn’t think Mom and Langga would take this long to save me. Goddess, what if I die from being beaten? You saw how hard that slap was.

"No problem. You’ll just restart and come back to life."

Damn it!

This goddess really couldn’t be tricked anymore. Did he just have to accept this treatment?

At that moment, the wrinkled hand of the man called Lord Bhisma almost landed on Gara’s butt.

"Let go!" Gara slapped the hand away.

The old man showed a smile—which, to Gara, looked absolutely disgusting—thinking that a slap from Gara’s thin and seemingly weak hand wouldn’t feel like anything.

But it turned out Gara was strong enough that the man’s wrist, where Gara had hit, turned red.

"You little brat! How dare you!" Satyo roared.

Unlike Satyo, Bhisma only became more enthusiastic as he looked at Gara. "You’re quite interesting."

He looked Gara up and down, then paused at Gara’s belly, which had a small bump.

"For a slim body, your stomach isn’t as flat as I thought," he commented.

Gara shivered violently.

Goddess! What’s wrong with this man? Why is he looking at me like that? Shouldn’t he be mad and hit me instead?

...