“Make one move, and it’ll be the last thing you ever do,” I say, my voice cold and steady as I press the barrel of my gun against Sophia’s temple. I haven’t pulled the trigger yet, and there’s a reason for that: I need information.

Sophia’s pale face is drenched in fear, her entire body trembling. The gruesome sight of the two royal knights lying lifeless on the floor has shattered whatever composure she had left. “Please! Don’t kill me!” she pleads, her voice breaking as tears pool in her wide, frantic eyes. “I didn’t have a choice! The King ordered it!”

“Then talk,” I command. “Why does he want to turn us into sex slaves? What was that auction all about?”

Her words tumble out in a panicked rush. “It—it was an auction for nobles! To buy summoned people as slaves! The summoning ritual costs a fortune, so they just wanted to make some money back!”

Her answer lands heavily, though it confirms what I’ve already suspected.

So that’s it. If the royal family can’t use us as heroes, they’ll wring every bit of value they can from us another way. Selling us like livestock—like commodities. They couldn’t risk letting us go free, not when they’d invested so much in bringing us here. Of course, the entire concept of a reverse summoning spell was a lie, a clever ruse to gain our trust. By feigning concern for our well-being, they could maintain the illusion of being benevolent rulers—at least in Hiroshi and Takumi’s eyes.

“Please,” Sophia begs again, her hands clasped in desperation. “Please spare me! I was just following orders! I had no choice!”

“Tch,” I scoff, glaring down at her. “You seriously think you can just walk away from this? That there’d be no consequences after trying to enslave us? How does that even make sense?”

There’s no reason to spare her—no reason to let an enemy live.

“Wait!” she screams, her voice rising in sheer panic. “WAIT! I-I can guide you out! You need me! I know the layout of this castle. I can help you get past the guards. Please, just let me live!”

“Oh?”

I lower my gun.

Now I consider her words; she really has a point.

I don’t know the layout of this place, and with the sheer number of guards, getting out undetected seems nearly impossible. Escaping on my own might be feasible, but getting Yumi out with me? That would multiply the difficulty tenfold. Having Sophia on my side might be our only realistic chance to leave this place unscathed.

But can I trust her? Just minutes ago, she was preparing to enslave me.

As my gaze drifts to the iron collar lying on the ground, an idea forms. A way to ensure her cooperation.

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“All right,” I say, shifting my aim to the collar. “First, explain how this thing works.”

Sophia’s eyes widen in alarm. “Wha… what do you intend to do with that?” she stammers, her voice shaky, as though she already knows my plan.

“You’re questioning me?” I snap, pressing the gun closer to her. “Do you want a hole in your head?”

“No! I’m sorry!” she cries out, her words tumbling over themselves. She takes a steadying breath before explaining. “That’s… a slave collar. When placed around someone’s neck, it suppresses their will, making them obey their master’s commands. To activate it, you need the blood of both the master and the slave on the collar…”

I glance at the collar, its surface already stained with both of our blood. The next step is clear.

“Wear it.”

Sophia freezes, her expression stricken. “You… can’t be serious…” she whispers, disbelief thick in her tone.

“What’s the problem?” I ask coldly. “It’s fine for you to put it on me, but the idea of wearing it yourself is unthinkable?”

Her hesitation irritates me. Pressing the barrel of the gun more firmly against her temple, I issue the command again, my voice a low growl.

“Wear it. Now.”

“Aaa! All right! Please, just don’t kill me!”

Reluctantly, Sophia reaches down and picks up the collar, the cold metal gleaming dully under the dim light. Her hands tremble as she holds it, staring at it like it’s a venomous snake.

“You… are right…” she murmurs, her voice barely audible. “Maybe… I deserve this…”

Taking a final, shuddering breath, she places the collar around her neck. With a soft click, it locks into place.

Almost immediately, a rush of information floods my mind, as though some invisible link now binds us.

“Wait,” I mutter, processing the details. “Your name isn’t Sophia—it’s Rosaria Valeraine?”

“Yes…” she replies hesitantly. “Rosaria is my real name…”

I absorb the rest of the information flowing through the connection. She’s twenty-five years old with a Heroic Rank blood talent, strong in water-type magic but currently specializing in illusion magic for reasons unknown.

“So, the master can compel the slave to do anything?” I ask.

“Yes…” she answers quietly.

But can I really trust this thing? That’s the big question. I need to see evidence of how the slave contract worked. After all, I only trust my eyes, not some random magic that I’m seeing for the first time.

Thus, I level my gun at the wall, ensuring Sophia’s attention.

“Watch carefully, this is how you use this weapon.”

Bang!

The shot echoes through the room, leaving a jagged hole in the stone.

“Now, take this gun and shoot yourself in the head.”

That’s my first order. The collar glows at my command.

“AAaarrrggh!” Sophia screams. “Whyyy! Whyyyy?”

Her body trembles violently as she fights against the command, but the collar’s magic is relentless. Slowly, as though against her own will, her hand reaches for the gun. Tears stream down her face as she points the barrel at her temple.

“Please, master!” she sobs, her voice raw with desperation. “Cancel the order! I’m begging you! Please!”

Suddenly, a torrent of emotions are also rampaging through into my mind, as she and I are now connected. Fear, anger, despair, and seething hatred. The force of it is almost overwhelming, and for a moment, I feel like I’m drowning in her torment.

A pang of guilt stirs within me, threatening to crack the cold exterior I’ve tried to maintain. But I can’t afford to relent now. I need answers, and this is the only way to confirm the collar’s power.

“AAAAA! FUCK YOUUU!!!” Rosaria screams, her voice laced with fury.

Her finger tightens on the trigger.

Click!

The sound reverberates through the room.

Nothing happens.

The gun’s chamber is empty.

For a moment, there’s only silence, broken only by Rosaria’s heaving breaths and the tears streaking her face.