MTM 57

Zed stood in a wasteland. Fog spread in every direction, and nothing could be seen. It was that dream again.

In his hand, he held a small heart. It was something he had once thought would soon die, but the heart was still beating. It was small and fragile, yet the constant rhythm felt as if it wanted to live.

Thump… thump….

The faltering beats sounded familiar.

[If you give all your strength to the wanderer who bears the same sorrow as you, salvation will descend upon you.]

With that prophecy, Zed woke from the dream.

“…It’s been a while.”

Zed opened his eyes and let out a long sigh. Three years ago, before he left the Regnovar Empire, he had dreamed that dream every night. He had almost forgotten it, but now it returned. Maybe it was because he had left the mercenary group.

Out of habit, Zed turned his head.

“Harto…?”

Only the blanket was on the bed. The Harto who should’ve been sleeping soundly was gone.

Zed abruptly stood up. He wondered if Harto had gone to the bathroom, but there wasn’t a single sound inside. His anxiety grew, and he immediately went to the next room.

Before he even knocked, something told him the door wouldn’t be locked, so he carefully pushed it.

Creak.

Allen was asleep on the bed, snoring under the dim light, but Leon’s bed was empty.

“…Don’t tell me.”

Zed returned to his room. He almost took his greatsword, but it would draw too much attention, so he left it. Instead, he took one of the short swords Allen had bought from the peddler earlier.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

“Ah! Let me go! Let me go!”

Harto had been caught by the guards. The rough grip on his collar made it hard to breathe. He gasped and struggled, but they only tightened their hold.

“Small thing’s fast. Ran all over the place, but you got caught in the end.”

The Master, dripping with sweat, came over and sneered. Harto stopped struggling and shouted desperately.

“I… I don’t work here! My name is Harto!”

“Sure, Harto. I’ll remember your name right this time.”

Harto wanted to say again that he was not the boy named Harpo, but the Master didn’t care. Even if he were different, it didn’t matter. In the Master’s eyes, Harto was nothing more than merchandise.

“Well then…”

The Master leaned in close to Harto’s face. His gaze moved slowly, tracing every feature, and a grin spread over his lips.

“Hm… your skin’s flawless. You don’t need makeup.”

His black hair was soft, his skin pale and smooth. His large, round eyes gleamed like blue lakes, his lips were red even without anything applied, and the glimpse of his tongue was a deep scarlet. The spots where the guards had grabbed his arms had reddened, and the Master could already imagine how soft his bare skin would be.

‘This one will sell far better than Ser…’

Thinking of Ser, the most valuable and popular courtesan in Honey, the Master felt like he’d struck gold. With a face like this, the boy might not be just a helper. Maybe he really was just a passerby, but once caught in his hands, there was no way he would be let go.

“Harto? Then answer one thing. It’s your first time?”

“……?”

“Have you rver used the back? Ah, tell me about the front too, if you want.”

“W-what….”

At the second question, Harto’s pupils wavered. He didn’t fully understand, but the tone alone made disgust rise in his throat.

“Don’t lie. When that polite gentleman touched you, you froze like a rock. Hm, judging by that reaction, you’ve no experience.”

The Master looked him over from head to toe like he was assessing an object and licked his lips. A shiver ran down Harto’s spine. This wasn’t how a person treated another person.

“Who’s that boy?”

A low voice intervened. When the Master turned, the blond called Ser stood with his arms crossed, leaning slightly to one side.

The Master narrowed his eyes and answered as if the question were pointless.

“A new product.”

“Huh?”

Ser spoke carelessly, then stepped closer and held Harto’s chin. Because of that, Harto could see Ser’s face more clearly, and he gasped.

Seen up close, Ser was dazzling enough to steal breath away. The face beneath his golden hair was sculpted with graceful lines, and his skin was clear without a single blemish. His beauty could not be compared even to the fortune-teller he had seen earlier. Yet a strange cruel aura hung behind that beautiful.

Even with an angelic face, being here meant he was part of the same group. That must have been why Ser hadn’t tried to hide him earlier.

“Alright. I’ll wash him.”

When Ser released Harto’s chin and spoke, the Master raised his eyebrows, surprised.

“You will?”

“If he goes into the guest’s room like this, I don’t know what could happen. And… you know, I handle these ones well. If it’s his first time, there’s a lot to teach.”

“The guest?”

The Master frowned at Ser’s calm tone. He meant there was no time for that.

“It’s already late for guests. Looks like they panicked and ran off.”

“What? Fuck…”

The Master glared at Harto with a face full of annoyance.

Here, time and guests both meant money. Ser was Honey’s most popular courtesan, and even missing one client meant a big loss in profit. To make up for it, Harto had to be turned into tonight’s product immediately.

“Or you could just send that gentleman to me instead.”

“Hm…”

Ser shrugged and offered the simpler solution, but the Master didn’t like it. That man already had his eye on Harto. When Harto had escaped earlier, the gentleman’s face had gone red as he shouted to bring him back quickly.

He was one of Honey’s oldest patrons and one of the wealthiest merchant nobles in Belgarde. Whenever he had time, he came here and preferred naive, young mens. His tastes were very specific, and whenever new stock arrived, he always demanded to have the first encounter. But aside from that, he was a polite customer. He never tried to lower the price he offered, and his reputation wasn’t bad.

Losing a client like that meant losing a fortune. Before his patience ran out, Harto had to be delivered.

“…Wash him quickly and send him down.”

Once the Master gave the order, the guard holding Harto threw him toward Ser. Harto lost balance and stumbled forward into Ser’s arms.

“Don’t waste time. When you’re done washing him, bring him down.”

After speaking to the guards by the door, the Master left.

“Harto? That’s a cute name.”

“……”

Ser placed a hand on Harto’s shoulder and smiled. When seated, Harto had thought they were about the same height, but now he saw Ser was at least a hand taller.

“Um, I…”

Harto tried with all his strength to ask for help.

“I know.”

Then Ser’s smile disappeared, and his voice changed to a quiet, serious whisper.

“Stay still. I’ll find a chance to get you out.”

“Ah…?”

Harto’s eyes widened. When he looked up again, Ser was smiling calmly, as if nothing had happened. But Harto was sure of what he’d heard.

‘Was he forced to stay here too…?’

Maybe Ser had been caught and made to stay here against his will, just like him.

“Alright then. Let’s get you clean first.”

Ser took the dazed Harto and walked with him toward the bathroom inside the room.