City of Witches Chapter 356

The Witch city of Gehenna.

It is not at all awkward to attach the modifier "prosperity" to this city, created to serve the privileged class of chosen Witches.

Beautiful natural landscapes unburied by atmospheric pollution caused by chemical fuels and indiscriminately dumped waste.

Buildings preserved for generations without being swept up in war and destruction, even if they are mere inns, inevitably possess their own charm and lingering impression.

The Witches of Gehenna, of course, and even the citizens who served them, enjoyed Gehenna's peace.

For hundreds of years.

However, all prosperity comes at a price.

A deep shadow was cast over Gehenna's prosperity, which only seemed warm.

In this Gehenna where only beauty seems profound, there is a group exploited to atone for their sins in the darkness untouched by anyone's eyes, where no one pays attention.

Slaves not belonging to the city hall.

Death row inmates supported by the leadership of various countries that have made pacts with the nobility.

Most of the slaves purchased by Border Town's smugglers are ground down at the unloading docks.

It is common for them to die before completing ten years under over 12 hours of hard labor daily, whippings, inadequate meals, unguaranteed holidays, and unreasonable toil.

Everyone in Gehenna took this for granted.

After all, they were prisoners who had committed capital crimes, sold to Gehenna to settle their own karmic debts.

Before debating the right or wrong of this form of punishment, it was rare for anyone to raise their voice calling it at least an unreasonable measure.

Except for the parties involved.

A shabby warehouse located in the port of Border Town.

It is practically a ruin, having been abandoned for decades because the facility is too old and new warehouse facilities have been built.

Due to the characteristic of Border Town where misty rain falls all day, the damp, dark, and shabby warehouse was reminiscent of a sewer.

Then, the voices coming from inside must be the squeaking of sewer rats.

"Move aside when you're done. I want my turn too."

"You fucking bastard, you've been rushing annoyingly since earlier. Get out of the way, you pig bastard."

A woman lying weakly with her legs spread on a pile of straw.

Behind her, five men in line and two arguing.

In the middle of the warehouse, a bonfire using wooden crates as fuel and scattered liquor bottles.

The roughly twenty men gathered here were all slaves purchased by smugglers—death row inmates.

"Pig bastard? What did you just say?"

The fat man, who had been arguing about who would enjoy the slave to be sold to a brothel first, seemed to flare up, his jowls trembling.

The muscular man, who had been pressing down on the woman, also adjusted his pants and stepped forward.

While the pig had the weight advantage, the muscular man's momentum was far more menacing.

"Got a problem? You pedophile pig bastard? Back in prison, I used to beat bastards like you to death. Be thankful this isn't a prison."

"You fucking bastard, bragging about killing one or two people before. Think you're the only one who's killed people?"

Although the pig-man had endured subtle disdain appropriately until now, today, with alcohol in him, foolish bravado had gone to his head.

He picked up a beer bottle lying nearby with his chubby hand and smashed it.

Simultaneously, focused gazes and echoing jeers.

The atmosphere was hostile, but no one took this fight seriously.

"Kehaha! Look at that bastard breaking a bottle."

"Gonna stab him, huh?"

The muscular man also chuckled, pulling a knife from inside his clothes.

"Pig, good for you. I didn't like you from before either. Tonight's dinner is pig intestine stew."

"Little balloon-muscle bastard acting tough."

It would be unthinkable for ordinary slaves to act individually, hold women, or drink alcohol.

But those gathered here were 'Ten-Leaders,' slightly special even among the worthless slaves.

Slaves are all social misfits, psychopaths, criminals, murderers, or rapists.

It was practically impossible for smugglers to individually control the dregs of society, whose disposal was confirmed by the massive system called the state.

What is the way to make lazy, uncooperative sewer rats work?

Making particularly violent and vicious ones among the same sewer rats into leaders.

Promising those leaders slightly better treatment and guaranteeing conveniences.

Of course, the price for that is a pitifully small privilege.

But humans are a selfish species that, when pushed to extreme situations, do not hesitate to kill their own kind for an extra piece of bread, and the smugglers' strategy was excellent.

The Ten-Leaders controlled the slaves in the same plight as them and managed places even the middle managers' hands couldn't reach.

"Enough."

Just as the knife fight was about to begin.

A man intervened between them.

It was the man who had been sitting blankly in front of the bonfire watching this spectacle until now.

"But, boss! You saw it too! That bastard called me a pig bastard...!"

A skinhead with gleaming dead-fish eyes.

A man with a long scar running across his face.

The leader of the group, nicknamed Knife-Wielder Jack.

"Guhk!"

He mercilessly grabbed the pig-man by the nape and crushed his nose with his knee.

He didn't stop at once.

He raised his knee viciously and relentlessly enough for the sound of bone breaking to be heard several times.

The pig-man, who had been gagging and screaming, slumped down, and Jack flicked off the shattered teeth stuck to his knee and blew his nose.

"If you don't like it, lose weight. What the hell are you eating to get fat like a pig all by yourself?"

"Kuh... kuh... S-sorry... It was my fault."

"Yeah, what's the point of us fighting each other. We promised to get along, didn't we? You go finish up too."

"Uh, uh..."

After mediating the pointless fight and patting the shoulder of the pig-man, who was apologizing with a nosebleed, Jack plopped down in his spot.

The noisy crowd had also quietly shut their mouths by now.

Idiotic, stupid bastards.

It makes my skin crawl to think I have to spend my whole life with these guys.

How long do I have to continue this life?

For about the first year, I even dreamed of raping the arrogant Witches and escaping this tedious city.

But now that I've realized how immense power the Witches possess, the most I can do is play boss among these idiots.

No hope for revenge, no future.

I have no choice but to eke out this miserable existence until I die.

While thinking such a life doesn't suit me, I just huddle up because there's no way out.

"Boring, isn't it?"Jack, who had been gulping down his beer, heard the voice of an uninvited guest who had suddenly appeared.

A languid voice speaking as if whispering right beside him.

When he turned his startled eyes to the side, there was a Witch.

Elegantly curled ash-blonde platinum hair and jade-colored eyes.

She had unhesitatingly planted her rear on a shabby crate and was sitting as naturally as if she were a comrade, as if she had been there from the very beginning.

"What... what the...."

"Why is a Witch suddenly here...."

They weren't particularly doing anything wrong.

Scoping out women, drinking occasionally—these were all small allowances granted because they were squad leaders.

But the sudden appearance of a Witch in this shabby hideout was enough to make everyone uneasy.

A ripple of agitation and unrest instantly spread throughout the place.

"What brings you here? To such a humble place."

"To explain that, I suppose I should introduce myself."

The charming Witch who had suddenly appeared smiled brightly and crossed her legs.

"I'm a good fairy who fulfills people's desires. Also called the Witch of Desire, Bianca Verilia. You can call me Lady Bianca."

While they were bewildered by the absurdly breezy self-introduction,

one of the squad leaders who had been shuffling awkwardly nearby prostrated himself flat at her feet.

"Greetings! Noble Witch! My name is Harvey! If you would take me with you, I will serve you with all my heart and sincerity! Please, buy me!"

Selling oneself into slavery to a Witch.

This is an adventure with an unforeseeable future.

Some Witches might just use you as an attendant or a sex slave, but others might conduct cruel, yet legal, Magic experiments.

Nevertheless, Harvey staked his life on it.

And the others were also regretting why they hadn't made the plea first.

Everyone was disillusioned with their slave lives.

Enough to envy Harvey, who had gambled by making a move that could easily be seen as insolent and get his head lopped off immediately.

Everyone held their breath, watching Bianca's reaction.

They quietly observed how this Witch who had suddenly appeared would respond to a slave who had rudely interrupted the conversation.

"Your name is Harvey?"

"Y-yes! I'm physically healthy and can do anything you ask!"

"Is that so? You do look robust, as you say."

Bianca reached out and stroked Harvey's cheek.

The faint smile on her lips showed no trace of anger or displeasure.

"Buying you might be a bit much... but instead, I'll fulfill your desire. Would you like to look into my eyes?"

Bianca guided Harvey's chin, making him meet her gaze.

A thin tongue lasciviously licked her upper lip.

The fulfillment of desire.

Sweet words.

Perhaps the Witch, her body heated, was looking for a slave to spend the night with.

Harvey, eyes swollen with anticipation, met the eerily beautiful jade-colored eyes.

"Hmm, you're incredibly hungry right now?"

"Y-yes, that's right."

Harvey stared blankly at Bianca.

It was the first time he had seen a Witch so directly, so closely.

She was breathtakingly beautiful.

As if the qualification to look anywhere else had been completely stripped away, he could only gaze at those beautiful jade-colored eyes.

"Hmm, this is all I have for now. Would you like to eat this, at least?"

What Bianca pulled from her bosom was a massive barrel barbecue, so large it was incomprehensible how she had carried it.

A thick piece of meat with a crosshatched sear on the crispy skin, juicy and tender inside.

Its size and condition were on a completely different level from the ordinary meat available in Border Town.

"Really... may I eat it?"

"Of course, as I said. I will fulfill your desire."

Seeing the meat dripping with juices, Harvey opened his mouth wide and bit into it.

This meat.

It's amazing.

The subtle buttery flavor and aroma of rosemary from the crispy surface.

It was the most perfect pork imaginable.

Enchanted by the sublime delicacy that delighted his tongue for the first time in years, Harvey voraciously tore into the meat.

"Chomp...! Chomp...! Th-thank you...! I've never... had meat this delicious.... The best... the best...."

Bianca, who had patted the head of Harvey as he greedily devoured the meat, turned back to face Jack.

"That should about wrap up the self-introduction. Still lacking, perhaps?"

-Crunch! Crunch! Crunch!

"He's... insane...."

"Some... someone stop him...."

"How do you stop that...! You go...!"

"Ugh...!"

What followed was the sound.

The sound of chewing tough, raw flesh, of shattering bone.

The sound of swallowing the damp, hot fresh blood inside.

Amid that ominous background noise, everyone's faces turned pale.

Some even retched.

Because from the moment he conversed with the Witch, Harvey had begun devouring his own left arm, seeming genuinely pleased.

He didn't care at all, even if his teeth broke on the hard bone, even if the rubber-band-tough artery snapped after several chews.

Harvey continued his meal like that for a long while before finally collapsing with a thud in the middle of the puddle of blood he had created.

The blood flowing to Bianca's feet bloomed like a flower on the toe of her white shoes.

"Do you get a sense now of who I am?"

Even a Witch wouldn't kill a person so meaninglessly like this.

If there is a Witch capable of such an act, only one thing comes to mind.

"...Exile...."

"Right, and among them, one who receives special treatment—a public enemy. I hold deep resentment towards the Witches living leisurely in Gehenna, just like you."

Bianca put a cigarette in her mouth and whispered to Jack.

"Doesn't it make you bitter? Angry? You've just been taking it all this time. Do you plan to live like a bug until the moment you die for some insignificant crime?"

Jack looked at the Witch.

He was trembling with fear, but he clearly felt it.

That the one who could change this helplessness and this nauseatingly tedious life was right in front of him.

"What must I do?"

"It's not difficult. I will give you power. The power to take revenge on the Witches who looked down on you and mocked you. If you hear my conditions... I think you'll find them tempting."

Bianca looked at the trembling slaves and smiled faintly.

A Word from the Author (Author's Note)

Thank you to everyone who has shown support!

By the way, there was a slightly ambiguous part in yesterday's note.

The burnout and mentally difficult stories I mentioned were from before the long hiatus.

Lately, I've been writing happily while pacing myself, so please don't worry!