The Demon King Seems to Conquer the World

Wearing the clothes the Howe soldiers had made me buy and sneaking my original clothes into a bag, I hid my face with a hat and muffler that I could hide my ears from and rolled out to the city.

Walking in a city with a different atmosphere than the city of Siyalta makes me feel clean.

It's great to walk in a foreign city.

Looking at the mall and walking, there are many products lined up, both familiar and unfamiliar.

Many products, such as fruit, had already been imported and seen in Siyarta, but it was also fresh to see them lined up in the store.

"Oh?"

Behind a shop, I saw a line of rare things.

Open the door and go inside.

"Store Owner"

"... what the hell"

The grumpy old shopkeeper with glasses said as he read the book.

I don't think they're willing to serve too many customers because they're fixed.

"This is an ivory shop."

I saw something white in the back of the store.

"It's not just ivory. It also deals with Mingki and others."

"When you say Namiki?

"Sandalwood, etc."

Sandalwood... sounds good.

"Then give me one of the biggest ivory. And show me the sandalwood."

"... How naive of you to use it. It's not the kind of price a child can buy."

Well, the Shans look young.

"If you have money, it wouldn't matter, would it?

I put every sack of gold in this country on my desk.

Leelika exchanged it and it was in Howe's office safe.

"... who are you?"

"Anyone would be fine. They're buying souvenirs for the local area."

"If you can pay, you're a guest."

The old shopkeeper walked into the back of the store as he stood up and slapped a ton of hips.

Come back and put one ivory on your desk.

Without saying anything, he disappeared back again, and now he brought a plate of sandalwood.

The stiff black plate is extremely natural black, rather than the shade painted and blackened.

Even though it's just a board, its shades make it feel somewhere ethnical.

Just looking at it makes me feel special, different from normal boards.

When I saw that, I had an idea that just sprang up.

"The biggest ivory and this one is sandalwood. You're buying it."

Well, is this good with ivory?

I hear the Rube family doesn't have ivory horns.

But when I use this to make a horn, I feel like it's going to be bigger than the Howe family's.

I feel a little handicapped, but it would be fine.

"What size are sandalwood?"

"What do you want to make?"

"Big desk"

Turn it into an executive desk.

"Machine...? All with sandalwood."

"Can I try it?

The owner reached out silently and forgave me, so I tried holding the sandalwood plate in my hand.

This is so much wood, it's so heavy.

"Don't make the drawer heavy with this. Looks like you should just leave the top plate alone."

The concierge is a tool used on a daily basis, so it would be luxury, but if it is difficult to use it, it makes no sense.

Weighted and fragile.

I put the sandalwood board down.

"If you want to use it as a desk, I'd like sandalwood, etc. Let me bring it to you."

The shopkeeper went back again and brought another piece of wood.

"This and other things are supposed to smell good. Stiff enough, and lighter than sandalwood. Try it."

Receive wood with a slightly reddish color.

When I held it, it did smell light and slightly like a flower when I brought my nose closer.

"Both sandalwood and sandalwood are to be sold at Marutai. If you want to make it a top plate for your desk, you should take a few sheets of wood in the middle of Marutai and make columns and feet at both ends left. Furniture usually does."

"I see."

"So, you're buying it? When it comes to one of the finest ivory and one namewood for a desk, this is a little short."

The owner opened the bag of gold coins upside down.

Slightly falls on the desk.

"Absolutely. I wonder if that's enough."

I left another bag of gold coins.

"I missed you."

The shopkeeper raised his hands as if to surrender.

"Luggage will be delivered to the ship attached to Pier XII by tomorrow. Make sure you choose the right shade. It's going to be a desk for our Prime Minister."

"Yes, sir."

"And if you have a good ivory shop, introduce me."

If you are a gold and silver mechanic, it is in Siyalta, so ivory mechanics would have been good if possible.

It's rare, and it's a decoration that doesn't exist in Siyarta because there aren't any craftsmen in the first place.

It would be perfect for souvenirs.

"... hum, it changes with relief or ornament"

It's a decoration.

It's a souvenir for Senior Lily.

Another souvenir would be better for Sham.

"Then I'd like Killell's shop just down this street. There's an elephant on the sign."

"I see. Thank you"

"Come back."

The shopkeeper bowed his head in a spirit of service when he said that a good paying customer would be welcome.

I bought some souvenirs and decided to wander around until about 3pm and kept walking around.

If you keep walking in one direction, the quality of the building gradually gets worse whether you've gone through a section such as a luxury residential or shopping district.

It's not funny to look at, I thought I'd change my way back, and when I moved one compartment sideways and turned back, that's where the sign called Slave Market came into my eyes.

Slave market.

This sounds sword-soaked again.

Don't look at me the first time I was born. Slave market.

They say it's not a place like an open market, it's one building.

There is a large gate in a building that is not very decorative, just built up stones and made windows.

Speaking of which, would it be characteristic that all the windows are fitted with iron gratings?

The gate was open, and there were people like gatekeepers waiting with their weapons.

When I went in with dignity to try, I was a customer, and I couldn't be blamed for anything.

Perhaps, rather than rejecting those who come in, it is the job to reject those who leave, that is, to close the gates and catch the slaves when they escape.

Going in the back, it was all suspicious Osama inside.

I hide my face, too, which is suspicious enough, but this much seems more like a matmo.

I'd rather be blamed for being too mattomo.

With that in mind, going further into the back, the space opened up at once.

There is a blowout in the central part of the building, slightly uneven from the centre, with one tall table provided.

There, it was certainly a slave market.

A woman is getting naked, standing on the table and being sold.

It was sold, or put up for competition.

Shy of his gaze, he hides his groin and chest, and every time he tries to turn away, he is put away his hand with a stick and his jaw is put back so that his face looks good.

Ho.

"Ten thousand!

The partitioner says the price aloud.

"Ten thousand! Ten thousand! Ten thousand! Don't you?"

Hi, they're willing to show the price in the form of the hand I gave you up there.

"Thirteen thousand! Thirteen thousand! Thirteen thousand! Don't you?"

Thirteen thousand means thirteen thousand epi, because I guess we're talking about it in epi.

Sure, she's a beautiful woman, but she's got a pretty good price.

I hear it's about 1 epi = 8 ruga, so when it comes to 13,000 epis, it's about as expensive as the annual income of the Howe company's helpers.

From the annual income of a regular manual worker, about ten times?

Well, I guess there's a price difference.

"No ~ ~? Thirteen thousand!

That kind of culture, when the price was set, the partition man hammered like a judge on a stand-up desk.

I'm writing something down in the paperwork at hand.

I guess he writes about people who have fallen out of competition and prices.

I took my eyes off the competition and looked around.

There were no Shans here, either because there is a clause in the treaty that we are about to conclude that prohibits the slave trade of Shans.

This is not a crusader state, so it is uneven from the route where Shan slaves come around, but there will be demand.

Well, maybe he was there until yesterday.

I look further inside the market.

I felt like a social studies tour.

Temperatures aren't that cold, but I guess they still keep me from getting sick because the price is going to be pretty good.

Outside the playing field, the slaves are dressed, albeit crude.

I took a serious look at the people being sold.

There are men and women, but after all, women have big tits.

The indication is that it is not the global tendency to have small tits, but the unfortunate racial tendency of the Shans.

Senior Lily is amazing, not inferior to these breastfeeding people.

Walking there, I found something unusual again.

"Hey."

"Heh?"

It was a corner of the slave market, so to speak, like a booth per store.

When I speak up, a dirty, apparently undeserved man looks back.

"Is this store dedicated to these people?

Lined in that tent were the bright black of the skin, or black.

I've never seen a nigger before, so it was pretty fresh.

"You, where are you from?

"He's a not-famous country aristocrat three boy. I've never seen a black person before."

My Terrorist language is spoken in the Papal Realm, so it has a slightly different accent than Albio's.

I was a little worried that this lie would pass.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Another unusual hobbyist."

That being said, the slave trader had a humble laugh with Hihich.

I hated this guy in a flash.

"These guys must be from the southern continent. Are you an entertainer?"

"Hitch, the Entarks don't look like this. Down there. I'm guessing the Entertainers took it or kidnapped it in the war."

"Is it Arn you speak?

"That's not Arn. I don't get it. I don't know what to say. They're better off that way."

"Why?

How are you feeling not knowing the words?

I don't know what that means.

What the hell.

"Aren't you a great slave? Slaves, especially men, try to escape by consorting the same words. You'd better keep your words separate."

Uh, you know what?

"Hmm... So you can't speak..."

That's Mendoche, too.

I don't even know Arn in the first place.

"There's only one person who's better. Whoa, Temi!

"Yes."

A pompous reply was heard from behind the tent.

A little girl walks out with Tobotobo.

"This is him."

It was a girl in a borough cloth.

About ten, I guess?

"You can't even look at a monkey in the face, and it's not that black. Is my husband's opponent in charge, too?

After saying that, the slave trader had a hiccup, inferior pull laugh.

"It's a little too little! Well, I wish I had that hobby! Hiccup."

The intention to kill sprouted.

Shall I kill you, you geezer?

"Miss, do you want to go home?

When I said that, the girl just stared at me.

Yeah, I wouldn't even say it.

Reading his expression, he looks a little troubled.

"Temi, you want me to go home?

I divided it into words and said it as plainly as possible.

"Home I Don't Have Temi"

A terrible line of terror returned.

"Oh, my husband. Oh, my God."

A slave trader brings in tea.

I want to kill him.

I've been unable to contain my intentions to kill.

"Please shut up. You've decided if you want to buy it now."

"Heck."

A slaver man said it like it was boring.

"Why are you here?

"Parent Selling Me"

They didn't kidnap me, they sold me to my parents.

"You're not going home?

"None"

"I'll buy you what you want. You me?

I didn't think the word in question would make sense, so Temi still seemed to understand it when I said it with a slightly forced word connection.

I shook my head vertically with a boom.

"Why?"

"Sounds kind."

I didn't know you seemed nice.

Well, I guess it sounds kind of nice of some of them to come here and buy people.

"Study hard?

"Maybe I'm good at studying"

He seems to be good at studying.

Well, nobody taught me to learn Terrorist so far using only my ears, so my head and memory seem good.

It's good to be black.

It feels international.

I wouldn't make him a slave, but if I took him to Siyalta, it would seem interesting.

At this rate, you will soon learn Shan, and you will be able to live as long as you work downstairs in the mansion.

If you really don't get used to it, you can use the money you worked for to go home.

"How much?

"Five thousand epis"

"Are you stupid? Do you have that kind of money?"

I know you're blowing it, so I gave it back.

"You can't even fuck me, you think a lean clo-o-bo is five thousand epis? Five hundred epis would be a good place."

"Hyah."

The slaver man had a terrible pull laugh.

"I don't know if you know the countrymen, but humans are higher than cows."

"Bye, Thousand Epi"

"Not enough yet."

"... then wait to compete. I only have a thousand and a hundred epis. We're running out of money to get home."

"Nah, nah."

The slaver man suddenly made a dirty noise that didn't make sense.

I'm glad this isn't Siyalta.

If this was Ciarta, he'd be dead by now.

"... but hey, spare my brother my first time in the capital and keep it cheap"

Maybe it was a pretty critical price on the market.

Thousand epis.

Well, that's such a spare price to lose.

"That's a deal."

I took ten pieces of gold out of the gold bag and gave it to the slave trader.

"What is it, brother? I can see the golden color."

"Isn't that a mistake?

I wore a gold bag and pulled out a little knife to show it instead.

"Muh-nih-nih..."

The slave trader sounded dirty again and seemed to have thought it through.

I sold a little cheaper, but would I raise the price until I had a rub with a person with a weapon? I'm pretty sure a business deal was reached once, and if I reneged on the price agreement, how much would the price go up over the competition... etc.

"-Ch, you're a good businessman, brother."

Looks like I gave up after all.

"You still make business out of this, don't you? Okay, I'll take it."

"Wait."

Called down.

It's still something...

"Don't you need a certificate of transfer? Sign here."

They give me a piece of parchment.

You're the one scraping the surface and reusing it. This.

It's in Terrorist and it says how ownership works.

It seems to have been prepared in advance, and it says the physical characteristics of this daughter, and the column called Transferor says something that sounds like this guy's name.

Hi, looks like a mechanism where you can claim ownership when a slave escapes.

What a creep it was to be human, not something real estate under ownership.

Or what can I write about it?

Is it appropriate?

"Look, this is it?

Dolla Godwin, and rewrote it appropriately in the Terrorist language.

"Dora Godwin... that's a rare name. What about the town?"

"You say the town too?

"You don't want to go around."

Seems obvious.

I mean, I don't know the geography of the Albio Republic.

I just know the name of the capital, and I don't know any OO prefectures or OO regions.

"Godwin County. Dora from Godwin County."

... Now, is this what you go through...

The slave trader stared at this one, but lowered his eyes to see if it had gotten troublesome.

Seems to ignore it.

"Well, not this way. You're the one who's in trouble when they get away."

Hi. They found out my alias, but it doesn't seem to matter.

A pseudonym would mean you can't claim ownership when you get away with it.

That's what I don't care.

"Real name, real name."

That's what I said, I took the black girl's hand and now it's time to walk away.