Moren’s muttered words were almost drowned out by the whip’s crack and the woman’s curses.
The slave curled on the ground had a presence as faint as a candle in the wind, growing weaker by the second.
But the woman’s fury didn’t stop.
She even began kicking the slave with the jeweled tips of her pointed leather shoes, as if kicking a bag of worthless trash.
“Playing dead, are you?!
Get up!
You pathetic wretch!”
Just then, an unusual commotion came from the end of the street.
The usual noise of the street stopped abruptly, replaced by hurried footsteps and stifled gasps.
Pedestrians and vendors scattered like startled birds, retreating to the sides of the street with astonishing speed.
Heads bowed, eyes lowered, they cleared the wide center of the street in an instant.
Moren didn’t understand what was happening, but he instinctively followed the crowd back under the awning of a shop, his gaze following the empty path.
Then he saw them.
A fat man with a round bubble helmet over his head sat arrogantly astride a mount—a slave wearing a heavy collar around its neck.
The slave was on all fours like a silent donkey, crawling forward with difficulty.
With every step, the heavy chains clinked.
The fat man held a jewel-encrusted short whip in his hand, idly tapping the slave’s back.
Beside the mount walked several tall, muscular bodyguards in matching black suits and sunglasses, their faces expressionless.
Further out, even a few Marines in uniform, carrying rifles, marched with tense expressions, their sharp eyes scanning the subdued crowd on both sides.
They were clearing the way for that bubble-headed Saint at the center.
Without needing further explanation, Moren knew his identity just from the distinctive outfit and arrogant bearing.
The absolute privileged class of this world.
The World Nobles—Celestial Dragons.
The impact of seeing it in an anime was nothing compared to witnessing it in person.
The blatant, unashamed arrogance of treating other people like livestock.
The distortion and injustice of the Marines, who supposedly represented “justice,” lowering themselves to become personal bodyguards, obedient lapdogs.
Watching this scene, Moren felt only a wave of intense revulsion.
“Unbelievable…” His voice was thick with undisguised disgust.
So this “justice” of the Marines was rotten to the core.
Objectively speaking, their existence did maintain peace on the seas and protect civilians.
But in reality, what they maintained was the privileged rule of the Celestial Dragons.
Normally, these sheepdogs would keep the flock safe, protecting them from wild beasts.
But when the rancher wanted to slaughter the flock, skinning and butchering them, these sheepdogs would only wag their tails and follow their master.
The saddest part was that some sheep worked hard to become sheepdogs, thinking they were serving the flock, but in truth, they were just lapdogs.
Of course, there were also a few bolder sheepdogs who dared to bare their teeth at their master—but then they inevitably got skinned and gutted for their trouble.
In the middle of the street, the finely dressed woman who had been so fierce toward her slave moments ago had turned pale as a ghost, nearly collapsing in terror.
She waved her whip frantically, trying to drive away the slave at her feet.
“Get out of the way!
Don’t block this Saint’s path!”
But after kicking at him for a while, she realized the slave had already died.
Helpless, she grabbed the chain and tried to drag him aside.
But she was used to a life of luxury and had little strength.
After a few futile tugs, the body didn’t budge, making her look even more pathetic.
The Celestial Dragon riding the mount came closer.
He brought his mount to a halt and pointed his short whip at the woman and the corpse at her feet.
“Hey!
You over there!”
“Why are you blocking this Saint’s path with a filthy slave?!”
The woman was terrified out of her wits.
She dropped to her knees with a thud and began babbling incoherently.
“N-No, my Saint!
Most noble one!”
“It’s this lowly slave—he was useless and died!
I was…
I was just about to move him!
Please forgive me!
Forgive me!”
She kowtowed; her gorgeous dress quickly caked with dust.
The Celestial Dragon’s small eyes shifted behind his bubble helmet, looking from the corpse to the trembling woman.
Suddenly, he grinned—a twisted smile.
“Oh?
Your slave disobeyed and died?
That means you’re a terrible owner.
Your training skills are pathetic.”
“And since you think he was a bad slave, why don’t you take his place?
Let’s see if you can do any better?”
The woman looked as if she’d been struck by lightning.
Her face went white as paper.
“No, my Saint…
I…
I’m not…”
“Hehehe!
Put a collar on her!” The Celestial Dragon didn’t care what she thought.
He didn’t even give her a chance to finish.
He waved his hand.
The black-suited men immediately stepped forward, roughly tore the jeweled necklace from the woman’s neck, and replaced it with a rough, cold metal collar.
They then respectfully handed the other end of the chain to the Celestial Dragon.
“Now, crawl!” the Celestial Dragon ordered.
He dismounted from the previous slave mount and gestured for the black suits to drag the exhausted former mount aside.
Then he climbed onto the woman’s back.
How could she bear such weight and humiliation?
She barely managed to crawl two steps before her legs gave way.
She pitched forward, nearly throwing him off.
“Worthless!
Useless!”
“You’re even worse than that filthy slave!
Damned insect!” the Celestial Dragon snapped, his rage exploding.
He rolled off her, then pulled an ornate pistol—inlaid with gold and jewels—from his waist and aimed it at her still trembling body.
“BANG!
BANG!
BANG!”
Several gunshots rang out, sharp and final in the silent street.
Her body convulsed violently a few times before going still.
Blood quickly soaked into her luxurious dress, staining it dark red.
“Hahaha!
What useless garbage.
Not even fit to be a mount!” the Celestial Dragon sneered, kicking her corpse without a trace of remorse.
The bodyguards remained expressionless.
A flicker of unease passed through the Marines’ eyes, but they quickly returned to their cold, restrained state.
Moren stood there, his mouth dry, deeply shaken.
He had heard and read plenty of reports and gathered as much information as he could.
But when this absurd scene played out before his very eyes, he still couldn’t believe it.
What kind of World Nobles were these?
Was nobility really a matter of blood?
Would a Celestial Dragon even die if shot?
If that woman who abused her slave deserved death, then this Celestial Dragon—who treated human lives like weeds and enjoyed others’ pain—deserved to die ten thousand times more.
No, letting him die would be too easy.
This monster in human skin deserved to suffer.
Rage burned in Moren’s chest.
The coldness in his eyes almost became palpable.
He stared at that bubble-headed figure, now riding another mount and swaggering forward under the escort of his guards.
His fists clenched until they cracked.
A brief silence hung in the air.
Then…
A low, calm voice came from beside him:
“Young man, those eyes are dangerous.”
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