Empyreus and Ifective were in the town of Yunmaplase, in the heart of the Dyrecktor dukedom. Zellus was not with them. Empyreus had tearfully begged her to retrieve a cherished keepsake of his that had been stollen by a thief. The “keepsake” was a random trinket from one of his shelves that he had given to a captured burglar before ordering him thrown out of his dukedom. Sadly, the Young Master never remembered presents given to him for long, and so he had accidentally selected one given to him by Zellus herself. Because of that mistake, Zellus’ delusions had grown still deeper, and an unlucky burglar was currently being tortured to death.
The reason Empyreus was here came sauntering down the street. Dressed in a flashy outfit, utterly useless for fighting, he was followed by two slave girls, an elf and a demon, dressed in equally impractical outfits. This Playboy Hero would stop frequently at stalls, buying whatever item he thought his slaves were looking at, and somehow managing to spend entire gold coins on meat dishes.
“That’s the one. Now to collect him.”
“Eh? But... Young Master, when did you have him sign a contract?”
“I didn’t. I’ll see to that now.”
Ifective watched in disbelief as her Young Master walked up to the Playboy Hero, a being that could probably slaughter everyone in this town if he wanted, and calmly slapped him. While the Hero stood there in shock, her Young Master began to berate the Hero for daring to act like a big shot in his town. The Playboy Hero became enraged, but before he could do anything six members of the town guard appeared and lined up behind the Young Master. Just six guards against a Hero? Absurd! However, the Hero himself hesitated, and as he did so the Young Master began to point to all the different businesses owned, in whole or in part, by the Dyrecktor family, which added up to about 3/4ths of them in this town. The Hero’s face crumbled. The Young Master placed a slave contract in front of him. The Hero tried to protest but the guards, on cue, displayed sinister smiles and laughed evilly. The smiles were a bit cramped, and the laughter forced, but the Hero didn’t notice through his tears. His pride broken the Hero signed, and a slave collar formed without any resistance.
The Playboy Hero’s slaves watching all this were even more baffled than Ifective. What had happened to the domineering Hero who bought them? To the pompous Hero who strode about town spending gold like water? To the fearless Hero that cut down all the monsters that attacked them? (Well... almost all. There had been three slave girls originally.) At this point the Young Master ordered the Hero to release his two slaves. The demon just stood there frozen by confusion. The elf was equally confused, but didn’t let that stop her. The instant the slave collar fell off she threw herself at the Hero, cursing, kicking, and spitting at him. Seriously, why do all of these Heroes think they can win an elf slave's affection with good food and a few presents? Do they really think a race with as much pride as elves would ever forgive someone who claimed to own them? Worse still, they were intelligent resentful slaves. Almost 1/4th of Hero deaths could be traced back to elf slaves that had found ways to creatively misinterpret an order. However, there was something Ifective needed to ask about more than why Heroes were all so stupid.
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“Young Master... how did that work?! I thought Heroes were too arrogant to submit to threats, and you didn’t even bring enough guards to threaten him with!”
“Ah, well you see, I learned from our slave Heroes that this one was obsessed with ‘light-novels’ from a certain peninsula near their home nation.”
“Oh, I’ve heard somewhat about these ‘light-novels’ from other Heroes, but what's different about these ones?”
“Various things, but perhaps the biggest one is the way they view money.”
Empyreus paused to organize his thoughts. Meanwhile, the elf had the Playboy Hero down on the ground and was alternately stomping on him and kicking him. The demon had gotten over her confusion long enough to add in a few stomps of her own, though she still looked furtively around now and then, as if to ask if it was ok. I bet the Hero regrets making them wear those ridiculous high heels now. But back to answering Ifective.
“Though all the Heroes seem to have heard the phrase ‘money is power’, in these stories it’s treated like a religious scripture. Moreover, it’s more or less expected that those with money will stomp all over those without it.”
“Oh! I see. Except... he couldn’t have become so strong if he thought money was the only source of strength... could he? How could he not know he was stronger than your guards?”
“Well, I guess the short answer is because he wasn’t rich enough.”
“Eh?!”
“In those stories he read money comes with power the way power comes with money. Weirdly, they don’t just take the money, or even negotiate for it seriously, once they become strong it’s more or less given to them just for being so strong.”
Ifective’s eyes’ became crossed. The Playboy Hero was wailing piteously right now, but neither of them cared.
“Then... then... the reason he didn’t know he was stronger than you...”
“Was because no one had given him a dukedom yet.”
Ifective seems to be in shock. Oh? Playboy’s wailing just fell off into a low gurgulling sound. I better step in before he dies. As we’re about to leave, one more question occurs to Ifective.
“Young Master, why do you know so much about the other worlds’ light-novels?”
“Oh, well I got tired of asking those idiots about these things, so I brought Buffoon to a mind mage the other day. He let a Cetee Elfa Phive bug into his ear, then recorded the extracted memories into a memory crystal for me. Unfortunately, it could only extract things Buffoon actually paid attention to, so it ended up being all stories, this kind of moving picture stories, and lots and lots of black and white drawings of unclothed girls doing various... things.”
“...is Buffoon still sane?”
“He’s currently alternating between believing he’s back on Earth and Klishay was just a dream, and wearing a dress while telling people that he’s been transformed into a pretty girl. I’m sure he’ll get over it.”
Again today, Ifective was left speechless. She had never thought she would feel pity for these detestable Heroes... until her Young Master set to work.