Help, I'm in Another World and All the Men Are So Hot! [BL]-Chapter 246: Seeking the Right Fit

Damien felt a pang of guilt for arriving without an appointment.

Well, at least the snacks here were extraordinarily delicious.

Deciding to pass the time, Damien helped himself to the treats, just as he had during his previous visit.

"M-Master Damien, what is this?! It’s incredibly delicious!" Lysander exclaimed, wide-eyed with surprise.

"Master! Are we really allowed to eat this?!" Ithnan echoed, equally astonished.

Damien chuckled at their reactions. "See? It’s so delicious it’s almost unsettling, right? Don’t worry, though. I’m sure it’s part of the service. Let’s eat as much as we can while it’s here."

As if perfectly timed, just as they finished the treats, the door opened, and the slave merchant entered the room.

"Ah, my sincerest apologies for keeping you waiting!" the merchant greeted with impeccable elegance, his every movement graceful.

Alghough Damien couldn’t help but think how strange it was to see such refined gestures paired with the merchant’s frog-like face, he quickly scolded himself internally for the disrespectful thought.

I’m sorry about that, Mr. Merchant.

"No, no, it’s us who should apologize for coming unannounced," Damien replied politely.

"Not at all, Mr. Crowell—please know that you are welcome to visit any time. Should you wish, I would gladly come to you instead," the merchant said warmly.

There was an undeniable sincerity in the merchant’s tone, though Damien suspected it was mostly professional courtesy.

Still, such treatment wasn’t unpleasant.

"I see you’ve brought along one of our products from your previous purchase," the merchant said, his gaze fixed on Ithnan, who sat at Damien’s side.

The merchant’s expression hinted at fascination, likely due to how robust and healthy Ithnan looked compared to when they first met.

Back then, Ithnan had been on the brink of death.

"Yes, he’s proven to be incredibly skilled and remarkably loyal," Damien said with genuine praise.

And adorably endearing, Damien thought but chose not to say aloud.

Still, Ithnan must have sensed his unspoken sentiment because his cheeks turned faintly red.

"I’m delighted to hear that," the merchant said with a warm, grandfatherly smile, which was surprisingly disarming despite his peculiar frog-like appearance.

It created a strange yet comforting atmosphere in the room.

"Now then, what brings you here today?" the slave merchant asked, maintaining his cheerful demeanor as he transitioned to the main topic.

The atmosphere was so relaxed that Damien felt as if he might inadvertently get swept up into buying more than he planned.

"Well, actually..." Damien began, straightening his posture and explaining the situation succinctly.

"Ah, you’re looking for two people who are capable of serving as household staff," the merchant mused aloud, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

Damien had half-expected the merchant to immediately say, "I already have the perfect candidates ready," which would have been both impressive and alarming, given the man’s mysterious network of information.

However, it seemed that wasn’t the case, at least not yet.

"For managing a student dormitory, I would recommend someone with more life experience," the merchant began. "They may not excel at physical labor, but that shouldn’t be an issue in this scenario. The key is someone attentive and adept at caring for students’ needs."

Of course, he already knows it’s for a dormitory, even though I never mentioned it.

Damien sighed inwardly.

It was no surprise; the merchant’s uncanny information network was as sharp as ever.

Even the matter of physical labor seemed anticipated—likely because the merchant had already deduced that Ithnan and the others would handle those tasks.

However, it made sense since he’s a seasoned slave trader.

When Damien thought of dorm supervisors, the image of a kind, matronly figure immediately came to mind.

"In that case, I’ll leave it to your recommendation. Do you have anyone suitable in mind?" Damien asked. 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

"Of course," the merchant replied with a broad smile.

He clapped his hands twice, the sound crisp and commanding.

Lysander glanced at the merchant with a curious expression, clearly wondering why nothing else seemed to happen after the clap.

Don’t worry, Damien thought to himself.

It may look strange, but somehow, the process always moves forward with just that gesture.

"Now then," the merchant continued, "while the candidates are being prepared, why don’t we pass the time with a little bit of small talk?"

Wait, what?

Damien blinked his eyes in surprise.

He had expected the candidates to appear immediately, as was typical with this merchant.

Instead, the merchant seemed inclined to chat.

Does he have something specific he wants to discuss?

Damien wondered, now slightly on edge.

When the slave merchant clapped his hands twice again, a female staff member promptly arrived with additional sweets.

The sight stirred a sense of familiarity in Damien.

Wait... isn’t this shortcake?

So, they have it in this world too...

"This is a baked confection currently trending in the Southern Isles," the slave merchant explained briefly, glancing at Damien.

"It’s quite rare to find someone capable of making it even in the royal capital, but it seems Mr. Crowell is already familiar with it."

"Ahaha... I was just surprised by how delicious it looks..." Damien replied awkwardly, trying to cover his reaction.

"More importantly, wasn’t there something you wanted to discuss?"

Lysander, sensing Damien’s discomfort, stepped in to redirect the conversation.

"No, no, it’s nothing of great importance. Just casual talk," the merchant said with a gracious smile, easily going along with the diversion.

As before, the merchant seemed curious but not overly intrusive, as if merely indulging his own passing interest without pressing further.

"To earn your esteemed patronage, Mr. Crowell, I thought I might share a little about the slaves we offer," the merchant began.

"About the slaves?" Damien asked, intrigued.

After all, he was there to purchase slaves, so the topic naturally caught his attention.

"Indeed. Mr. Crowell, do you happen to know how our products come to be slaves in the first place?"

How they became slaves...

Damien couldn’t help but glance sideways at Ithnan for a moment.

"Is it because they were captured during a war or something like that?" he asked tentatively.