Help, I'm in Another World and All the Men Are So Hot! [BL]-Chapter 248: The Criminal Slave

"Well, you see... In a way, this very outfit is part of the problem," the merchant replied with a grave expression.

Damien sighed.

Sure, the attire was a glaring issue, but it seemed like the merchant had a deeper concern.

His expression was unusually serious.

What could have happened?

Damien knew he should just nod along and avoid getting involved, but his curiosity got the better of him.

"W-What do you mean by ’problem’?" he asked hesitantly.

He immediately regretted it.

The merchant’s eyes glinted with what Damien could only describe as a sly, knowing expression.

"Well, first, let me explain. This young one belongs to the Rabbit Men," the merchant began. "Do you remember? When I last introduced you to our products, there was one from the same species among them."

Ah, now that he thought about it, Damien did recall.

There had been a similar child back then—someone who, despite being around the same apparent age as this one, had shot him an oddly sultry gaze.

"The Rabbit Men," the merchant began with his customary poise, "is known for reaching a certain stage of growth after which their physical appearance barely changes. As such, the people I introduced to you last time, despite appearances, was actually 25 years old."

"Wha—?!"

Damien’s eyes widened in shock.

That child was 25?!

He had looked far younger than him.

Suddenly, Damien could empathize with how Theo had reacted when learning his true age.

"...Wait a second," Damien interjected, trying to piece things together. "Is it rare for members of the Rabbit Men to be 25 years old? I think you mentioned something about that last time?"

Indeed, he faintly remembered the merchant saying something along those lines—something about it being rare for them to be sold as slaves, and even rarer at certain ages.

"Oh, exceedingly rare," the merchant confirmed with a nod. "After all, considering the Rabbit Men has an average lifespan of 80 years, the odds of acquiring one at the age of 25 are approximately one in eighty."

Damien frowned, his skepticism evident.

"That sounds... like a scam."

"It is, as we call it, salesmanship," the merchant replied smoothly, without missing a beat.

Damien stared at the merchant, who continued unapologetically, "In fact, the client who purchased that product remains blissfully unaware of its true age. They are delighted to cherish their ’rare-aged’ Rabbit Men companion. Both the client and the product, not to mention myself, are thoroughly pleased with the arrangement. A very successful transaction, I’d say."

"Well... I mean, sure. If everyone’s happy, I guess that’s what matters," Damien muttered, unsure whether to laugh or feel exasperated.

"Indeed," the merchant continued, a glint of pride in his tone. "Now, as I was saying, the Rabbit Men is renowned for their ’exceptional’ appearance and their natural... ahem, let us call it ’affectionate nature.’ This has made them extraordinarily popular. However, precisely because of this popularity, they are rarely available on the market. And when one happens to be a criminal slave who cannot resist their master’s will..."

"Um, when you say ’cannot disobey,’ what exactly does that mean?" Damien asked, his voice tinged with unease.

Although the merchant mentioned that slaves were protected by certain laws, making extreme mistreatment unlikely, Damien couldn’t help but feel pity for the trembling boy before him.

"In the case of criminal slaves," the merchant began, his tone matter-of-fact, "as part of their punishment, they are marked with a seal of absolute obedience. Do you see the mark encircling this product’s neck?"

Damien’s eyes focused on the boy’s neck and noticed a red line that wrapped completely around it.

"If they were to disobey their master’s commands or harm another person, the mark would activates, and their neck will tighten... like so."

The merchant’s description almost sounded comical, but Damien wasn’t fooled.

"Uh... if it tightens, then..."

"They die, naturally," the merchant finished, his tone as casual as if he were discussing the weather.

Yeah, Damien had figured as much.

"Because of this, criminal slaves are classified as third-class slaves the moment they leave the detention facility," the merchant continued.

Looking down, Damien noticed three distinct lines circling the boy’s ankle, marking him as a third-class slave.

The lines were different in texture compared to those on Ithnan, another slave Damien knew.

These seemed like they might have been branded.

"Additionally," the merchant went on, "the seal of absolute obedience, the one on the neck, cannot be concealed by law. Should they step outside, it becomes quite visible to the public..."

"But surely," Damien interjected, "harming someone like this must be illegal, right?"

"Officially, yes," the merchant replied, his tone slightly amused. "However, in practice, any harm done to those bearing the seal of absolute obedience—short of death or permanent, grievous injury—is generally not prosecuted."

Damien’s stomach churned at the implications.

A defenseless child, unable to resist, marked in a way that removed most legal consequences for abuse... letting someone like that walk around freely would inevitably lead to horrific outcomes.

"Because of this, the buyers of criminal slaves usually keep them confined to their property. But ultimately, it’s up to the buyer’s discretion," the merchant concluded with a shrug.

Damien’s heart sank.

All he could do was hope the boy would end up with a kind master.

"Although... please, stop looking at me with those pleading eyes," Damien muttered to himself, trying to steel his resolve against the boy’s desperate gaze.

"Still," Damien added with a frown, "the way criminal slaves are treated seems far too cruel, doesn’t it?"

Even if they were criminals, in a place like Earth, this would definitely be a human rights issue.

Although this was another world with different values, the treatment still seemed unnecessarily cruel to Damien.

"Becoming a criminal slave is reserved for those who have committed capital offenses or crimes of a similar severity," the merchant explained casually.

"What!?" Damien blurted out, stunned. "What did this boy do!?" 𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦

The idea that this trembling child could have committed a crime deserving of the death penalty seemed almost absurd.