He left the shack. Moving silently, he approached the house in front and checked for any presence.
No sounds at all. He hadn’t expected such a poor house to have people, but he saw no light from candles or anything else.
He didn’t know how many were inside.
The sky was clear and the moon was shining brightly, though slightly tilted downward.
Considering escaping the village, the deadline was sunrise, but he still had plenty of time now.
He drew his knife and slowly opened the door. ...It opened normally.
Security awareness in this backwater village was nonexistent. In fact, this door didn’t even have a locking function.
He peeked inside through the gap, but there was no light source.
He pushed the door open fully and a loud creak echoed. The hinges were bad. He had no choice, so he opened it all the way in one breath. A much louder bang rang out.
He stopped moving for a moment and checked the surroundings again. No noise at all. Anxiety remained, but hunger pushed him forward and he decided to continue.
What kind of house was this? Boxes were scattered everywhere.
He entered the living quarters and looked around. Besides the stairs to the second floor, there were boxes lined up all over the place.
The only reliable light source was moonlight coming in through the window on the door side, so it was very dark. Still, it was obvious that this was nothing like a normal human home at a glance.
Was this a house or a warehouse?
He wanted to check the contents of the boxes, but decided to go upstairs first.
He squeezed through the gaps between the carelessly placed boxes and stepped one foot onto the wooden stairs. It was a simple stick staircase; no creaking. Step by step, slowly, carefully.
He reached the second floor.
No doors. Both floors were single-room simple structures. Just like downstairs, there were boxes, but smaller. On the wall, several weapons were hanging. Opposite the stairs was a desk and a bed, and on the bed he could see a shadow that looked like a person.
He heard faint snoring. Probably still asleep.
He sharpened his senses to the limit and approached the bed. The closer he got, the louder the snoring became.
He confirmed that a well-dressed, plump man was sleeping on the bed. His clothes were clearly better quality than the village’s. On the desk were a pen and a stack of paper.
He had expected this from looking downstairs, but it seemed the merchant lived here.
In this backwater place. It was fine that he was a cuckold, but... there were too many supplies, and his clothes were way too expensive. He wasn’t a village merchant, right? Maybe an external traveling merchant had bought the place and turned it into a warehouse? Why bother with such a remote village?
...Whatever, it didn’t matter.
It seemed unnatural, but he decided not to care.
Even if the merchant had a shady background, it was none of his business as long as he didn’t get involved with the kingdom.
On the contrary, if he was the kind of person who couldn’t be reported to the kingdom, he would be a useful factor in hiding Clock’s tracks.
He looked around to see if anyone else was there. It didn’t seem anyone was hiding as guards.
In other words, if he neutralized this man, he could safely loot.
He scanned the tools hanging on the walls around him.
Knives, knives, spears... He found a rope casually placed on top of a box. Perfect. He would borrow it and tie up the man.
He had originally planned to use the skill to silence him. But his trump-card skill could only be used about once a day. He wanted to save it as much as possible.
He tied up the man’s limbs and mouth, then covered him with a blanket on top.
It felt a little too careless that he was still asleep till the end, but it didn’t matter, so he decided to start scouting right away.
Were there any supplies? Please, I want some. Preferably something valuable that could be easily converted to money.
Since no one was interfering, he boldly opened the boxes and rummaged through them one by one.
He immediately bit into the bread. He found a candle and lit it. He wanted preserved food that the merchant would have used, so he took a hefty knife from the backpack and borrowed it too. He stuffed everything into the backpack.
Nice, nice. What a big haul! You couldn’t get this kind of score from a private house robbery. If it was a noble’s mansion it might be different, but that would be suicide.
As for that... he couldn’t find any money.
What he couldn’t find was cash.
There were plenty of things that could be sold for money, but he didn’t want heavy, bulky items that would hinder his escape.
He had only ransacked the second floor; the first floor was untouched.
But valuables and important things were always kept close to the owner. If he couldn’t find them after searching upstairs, there was no point.
He could ask the man who had been tossing and turning in the bed, but he thought staying any longer was pointless.
After a moment of hesitation, he decided to leave.
This kind of convenient situation didn’t come along often, but he had learned that being greedy usually led to bad things.
He glanced at the man still lying under the blanket and went downstairs, heading straight for the door.
The door creaked again when he opened it.
Since he was just running away, he didn’t need to be cautious of his surroundings anymore. That judgment made him step outside without hesitation.
A person was standing right in front of the door and he was startled.
"Wah?! ...You’re... the guy from earlier?"
He saw the same person from the rundown shack.
For some reason, he had been waiting in front of the door.
Why was he standing here? Did he think he was buying the place?
He had long, pale hair and a small body wrapped in rags. Judging by his build, he was probably thirteen or fifteen years old.
His face, lit by the moonlight, looked fairly well-proportioned.
This guy... this face is sellable.
It didn’t take up much space as luggage and was valuable.
Even without a voice, a young woman would still have value.
It wasn’t in his plan, but since he hadn’t gotten any money, he decided to steal the slave too.
He quickly judged and went back inside through the open door.
He was right not to use the skill.
He went upstairs again and stood in front of the merchant once more.
The merchant had climbed out from under the blanket and was now rolling on the floor. His restraints hadn’t been removed.
Clock reached out and touched the exposed skin on the merchant’s neck. The merchant twitched violently at the life-threatening contact.
────Skill activation, Bandit.
The touched area glowed faintly. Heat flowed through his hand and inside.
A sharp heat raced up his left arm, and the glow disappeared.
...He successfully stole the slave contract mark.
Thanks, you bastard! Hahahaha!
Slave sales came with the slave contract mark as a set. Without it, he would just be treated as a common thief.
Without the mark, he couldn’t issue forced commands, and the slave would probably escape at once.
He took everything—weapons, cashable items, food, and the slave—and left the place.
The only thing left was whether the slave from earlier would obey him quietly.
"Hey, you know what this is, right?"
He stepped outside and immediately showed off the contract mark tattooed on his wrist.
The slave had been standing outside as if just waiting, and now he stared fixedly at Clock.
"...Well, it’s the mark from our contract. I received it from the merchant. From today on, you’re my slave. Understand?"
"..."
The slave stood still for a moment, then nodded.
His reaction was weaker than he expected. Maybe he wasn’t that surprised.
He seemed to have been treated terribly, so maybe he was already broken.
It was fine as long as he obediently followed. But...
...What now.
He wanted to leave the village immediately... but...
He looked at the slave in front of him again.
Just a rag. Covered in dirt everywhere. Not the worst sight, but bad enough.
With plenty of supplies, the shortest route was straight to the port town without detours. But with this girl’s appearance, she would definitely stand out in the town. He should at least make her change clothes.
He suddenly thought of it and lifted the rags.
She wasn’t wearing any underwear. Because it was dark, he reached in and felt soft skin.
As expected from her appearance, she was definitely a girl. He suddenly touched her vagina and she twitched in shock.
A girl with such a thin body wouldn’t be very useful as luggage.
Then her uses were limited.
"...Sigh... wait here."
He decided to get ready to leave right away.
It suddenly became troublesome, but what he had stolen was stolen. He would take her quietly.
This time he would go to the merchant’s house for the third time to look for clothes.
A pitch-black veil enveloped the quiet mountain road.
The trees swaying in the wind created an eerie atmosphere, and the two sounds of gravel underfoot echoed more than necessary.
After that, he stripped the slave girl’s rags and threw them away, then bathed her in the water from a well.