For Sale: Male Lead, Obsession Included - Chapter 2
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“Here, new slaves.”
The slaves my father personally brought from the Eastern Continent knelt in a row at the entrance of the mansion.
Each of them had handsome faces.
“Wow! Thank you, Father! You’re the best!”
At that, my half-sister Lavelier jumped around happily.
Knowing her obsessive nature to obtain whatever she desires, my father had committed another illegality.
“Quickly wash them and send them up to my room!”
With a bright smile, Lavelier grabbed the slaves’ chins and turned them around as if appraising them, assigning ranks to the slaves.
“Hmm… This one’s tall, so upper-grade.”
As Lavelier abruptly lifted the chin of the next slave, a terrible scar that ran vertically from his neck to his earlobe was revealed.
“What? He’s handsome but the scar is too severe…”
Disappointment settled on Lavelier’s face.
While his face would certainly qualify him as upper-grade, a scarred slave wasn’t appealing to her.
It was then that I, who had been standing at a distance, spoke up.
“Sister Lavelier. That slave over there. Can you give him to me?”
At that moment, the red eyes of the scarred slave turned towards me.
“Little sis, how audacious of you. Don’t you know all these are mine?”
Lavelier’s face, which had been smiling continuously, turned terrifyingly sour.
“I’m sorry… But didn’t you promise me a special gift the last time? When I managed to get you that Milky Way invitation. Besides, this slave seems low-grade because of his severe scars, so I think he might suit me better.”
I made my face as pitiful as possible, trampling down my own value. A skill I had mastered to survive in this house for ten years.
Sure enough, Lavelier snorted and scanned me over. Her expression was somewhat relaxed now.
Then I delivered the final blow.
“A slave with scars doesn’t suit someone as beautiful as you, Sister.”
It was a slick statement, honed from five years of grueling work as a salesperson in Korea.
The flattering skills I thought would be useless for life proved their worth after I died and reincarnated.
Indeed, you never really know with life.
“Ah, after listening to you, I get it. Others would find it disgraceful.”
“Not at all.”
“Right. I am a person who keeps promises, so I will give this slave to you especially.”
“Thank you, Sister.”
“A maid’s daughter and a scarred slave… a well-matched pair indeed.”
With my head bowed, Lavelier lifted her chin high and swished her dress as she disappeared into the house.
The employees efficiently moved the slaves, thoroughly washing and dressing them before sending them to Lavelier’s room.
“I’ll take this slave to my room.”
“Without washing him?”
The maid questioned. A slave with disheveled hair and dirt caked on so thickly his skin color was indiscernible?
As much as he fits the filth suitable for the lowly illegitimate daughter, Estira, isn’t this a bit too much?
Despite the maid’s obvious confusion, I simply gestured to the slave.
“Let’s go.”
Because it was obvious he’d be stripped and roughly washed by the cold river in this freezing winter. I chose to wash the slave in my room.
This slave is not someone to be treated lightly.
The person who will be a future duke… a veritable golden goose that’ll bring in sweet, sweet reward money.
It would be unreasonable to wash such a noble person in the cold river water.
“What’s your name?”
“…Declan.”
Right, Declan.
The name of the male lead from the novel I transmigrated into, ‘To Become the Master of that Collar.’
Declan Ragnar. The only son of a duke who has been lost for a very long time. And the huge sum of the reward posted for him.
I swallowed, recalling the information from the original work.
The sound of his hesitant footsteps made my palms sweat.
“Come in.”
The male lead I met after a long ten-year wait was in a more wretched state than I expected.
A body so small and frail it was hard to discern his age. Hair tangled with dust and skin marred by sores and dryness.
And lifeless eyes.
It was hard to believe this was the male lead who had captured the hearts of the female lead and other women passing by.
Of course, his handsome features were still intact.
“Go wash up in my bathroom first.”
I concealed my slight panic, speaking in a voice that was appropriately cold and somewhat kind.
As a transmigrator, there’s a rule to follow when dealing with the male lead. First, ‘Do not be too harsh or too kind.’ It was a calculated action based on this.
With fifteen years of experience as a romance fantasy reader.
I know.
Transmigrating in a novel means there’s more than a 98% chance of being targeted by the villain’s or the male lead’s obsession.
Thus, I must be extremely careful when dealing with the male lead. I certainly don’t want to be the object of his deranged obsessions and change this novel’s genre into imprisonment or taming. Never.
As I had thoroughly prepared, I steeled my heart and maintained a cold expression.
“Come on already… You must not know how to bathe in a noble’s bathroom.”
“…For someone lowly like me, the cold river water is enough.”
However, Declan’s sorrowful response made my firm resolve flutter like a piece of tissue in the wind.
‘Fxxx…’
It’s unfair for him to speak so pitifully with that insanely handsome face, isn’t it?
