"Alright, make sure to press your palm down properly."

Ghislain handed over the slave contract. The bold '10 years' written on it caught their attention.

Claude, Alpoi, and the other mages, with trembling hands, took the contract. Once they signed it, they'd officially become slaves.

Claude, tears welling up in his eyes, pleaded.

"C-could we call it a draw?"

"What nonsense, I won. Now, hurry up and press your palm."

"N-no, how about we work hard without pay instead? Do we really need a slave contract…?"

Claude thought that working without pay was essentially the same as being a slave, but he never imagined Ghislain would actually bring out a real slave contract.

This man truly defied expectations.

"Hey, didn’t we agree you'd work hard? This is just to make it official. You could always run away if you can't handle it."

"Ugh..."

They had dared to gamble with a lord, and now they had to face the consequences.

There was no point in rejecting now. Even if they refused, they could lose their heads.

With the look of someone who had lost everything, Claude slowly brought his hand to the contract.

"Ugh, I really need to quit gambling. Disgusting... Fine, here, I’ll do it. You won’t even give a crying man some mercy!"

Thud!

The moment Claude stamped his hand on the contract, he instantly stopped pretending to cry.

"Done, right? Ugh, this really doesn’t feel right. Lord, you’re quite the gambler. We’ll see next time."

Claude was quick to surrender, as he was used to losing bets.

But Alpoi, who had lived a noble and proud life as the successor of the Magic Tower, was different.

This was the first time in his life he had been treated so horribly, and all because of losing a simple bet.

Tears streamed down his face—genuine tears this time.

"I-I won’t do it! No! I refuse!"

Alpoi stood up and slowly backed away.

Next to him, Claude clicked his tongue and teased.

"That’s what gambling is all about. You lose a hand, or a foot, then spend the rest of your life regretting it. You’ll be thinking, 'Why did I do that? I shouldn’t have!' Hahaha!"

"You bastard! Do you think I’m like you? I’m not a gambling addict like you!"

"Well, who told you to jump into a high-stakes game? This is for pros, not beginners."

"It’s your fault! You were so confident that I trusted you! I thought you were going to win!"

"Eh, how was I supposed to know?"

Claude shrugged and gave an irritating smirk, as if to say it wasn’t his responsibility.

That shameless attitude only made Alpoi angrier, and he began throwing a fit.

"It’s not my fault! It’s all because of the General Manager! I didn’t know! I’m different! Please, give me a break!"

"Oh boy, that’s what a sore loser looks like."

"Shut up! It’s all your fault!"

Claude, having already lost and being half a slave himself, didn’t care much. But the mages were in a different situation.

They had already spent half a year in this place. With just six more months, they could have returned to the Magic Tower.

And now they were being thrown into this hellhole for ten whole years?

"I’d rather die than do this!"

Ghislain nodded and replied calmly.

"Then die."

"Noooo!"

Crash!

The mercenaries standing by grabbed the fleeing Alpoi and forced him to the ground.

Even though he struggled on the floor, he stopped when the mercenaries pointed a sword at his throat.

"This is too much! I’m the successor of the Magic Tower! You can’t treat me like this!"

Ghislain smiled wickedly at him.

"Do you know why I stayed quiet when you were showing off?"

"What?"

"If I had beaten you up back then, you would’ve just apologized and backed off. That wouldn’t have been any fun."

"You... You mean..."

Alpoi’s face turned pale.

Now that he thought about it, Ghislain, who would usually beat someone up the moment they acted up, had stayed eerily calm ever since the bet.

Lately, no matter how much Alpoi mocked or laughed at him, Ghislain just smiled.

Alpoi had thought Ghislain had simply given up.

His strange, relaxed attitude had been a bit unsettling, but he had dismissed it as bravado.

But could it be...

"Did you... did you deliberately lure me into this bet?"

"Now you’re catching on."

Ghislain grinned.

Alpoi and the other mages pounded the ground in regret.

They should have suspected something was off when this hot-tempered guy didn’t react like usual! Instead, they had been too blinded by the prospect of winning the bet to notice Ghislain's intentions.

They had thought he was just holding on to his pride by not canceling the bet.

But if he’d truly thought he was going to lose, he would’ve just beaten them all up and told them to shut up. They hadn’t considered that.

Ghislain clicked his tongue in disappointment.

"Honestly, I was hoping more of you would fall for it, but still, getting the General Manager and six mages isn’t a bad haul, right?"

"You... demon..."

"What are you talking about? Where else will you find someone as fair as me? I didn’t force you to make the bet. This is a fair outcome. Now, hurry up and press your palm down. We needed a non-disclosure agreement anyway, so this works out."

Ghislain’s only concern with this project was that the mages might spread the spells and magic circles used here.

But now that they were slaves, they’d be controlled, at least to some extent.

If a slave revealed their master’s secrets, they’d be beheaded. No one would risk their life for that.

"I refuse! I won’t do it!"

Seeing Alpoi still resisting, Ghislain sighed and pulled out a small hand axe from his waist.

"Alright, if you hate it that much, I’ll let you off with just a hand."

"W-wait! Do you really have to?"

"Well, I am a lord. If I let this slide, it would hurt my honor."

"Honor? You’ve never cared about honor before! What kind of lord walks around with a hand axe talking about honor?!"

"I’m starting to care now. I need to build relationships with other nobles, after all. You can still cast spells with one hand, can’t you?"

Claude chimed in sarcastically.

"Yeah, losing a hand is a good way to quit gambling. If you can’t stop after that, the next step is losing a foot."

"Shut up!"

"Alright, here goes the hand."

Ghislain raised the axe with a terrifying expression.

Alpoi’s face turned white.

This man, once he decided something, always followed through.

Just as Ghislain was about to swing the axe down, Alpoi cried out, tears streaming down his face.

"I’ll do it! I’ll sign the contract!"

Ghislain collected the signatures from the remaining mages and carefully stored the contracts.

Alpoi watched closely, eyes glinting, as he noted where Ghislain placed the papers.

‘I need to destroy those.’

Even if the contract wasn’t magically enforced, leaving any trace of it would be unacceptable.

As the successor of the Magic Tower, he couldn’t leave proof that he had signed a slave contract.

While Alpoi was scheming, Ghislain handed a new set of documents to Claude.

"Here, take this."

"What is this?"

"Additional work you need to do."

"You’re kidding, right? I’m already swamped with work!"

"No, you’re doing a great job. So add this to your list. It’ll be done quickly."

"...And what happens when it’s done?"

"A new task begins."

Claude scoffed, as if to say, Of course.

But when Ghislain raised his fist, Claude immediately bowed his head and began reading through the documents.

"This... This is just a list of names..."

"Yeah, I need you to find the people on that list and bring them to our territory. If they don’t want to come, don’t force them. If they need money, give them as much as they want. These are important people, so be careful with them. Got it?"

Claude blinked as he checked the locations listed next to the names.

"You seriously want me to bring all these people? Are these locations accurate?"

"Probably. Some of them may have moved, though. In that case, there’s nothing we can do."

The document Ghislain handed over was a list of his former subordinates from his previous life.

It would be great if he could find all of them, but that was highly unlikely.

So he had narrowed it down to only the most talented and necessary people for his territory—at least by his standards.

"There are over a hundred names here."

"Yeah, not too many, right?"

Claude gritted his teeth, trying to suppress his anger. The paper crumpled slightly in his hand.

Finding people wasn’t all that difficult.

They didn’t need to be forced, and if they weren’t around, they didn’t need to be tracked down obsessively.

The problem was that they didn’t have anyone to do the job.

"There aren’t enough people working in our territory already! How are we supposed to find people from other countries? We don’t have anyone to send!"

"Then hire someone from another territory or use the information guild. I told you, money’s not an issue."

"Damn it…"

Claude almost cursed but stopped himself.

Even before becoming a slave, Ghislain was the type to resort to violence when he got angry. Now that Claude had signed a slave contract, there was no stopping Ghislain if he decided to act on his impulses.

‘I’m going to die from exhaustion...’

Already overwhelmed with work, Claude barely got any sleep. Now, more tasks kept piling on.

If he’d known Ghislain was this relentless, he would never have followed him out of gratitude.

He had made a serious mistake.

‘I can’t turn back time… All I can do is avoid him as much as possible.’

Claude took a cautious step back, trying to slip away before more work was handed to him.

But then Ghislain muttered something that froze Claude in place.

"Hmm, we’ve got the food situation sorted. Now we need to start a business to make some money."

"What are you plotting now?! You’ve already produced tons of grain with that mana-gathering circle. There’s plenty to feed the people, and we still have a surplus. Just sell that. Why are you starting something new? Do you even have anything worth selling in this barren land?"

"Leave the grain alone. We’re going to save it for when it’s really needed."

"Ugh, this is so frustrating!"

Claude looked up at the ceiling, sighing deeply.

The most fundamental and important problem had been solved.

All they had to do now was sell the surplus grain and the problem would be over. Why was Ghislain suddenly acting stingy?

"There’s too much grain to just stockpile. It’s not the kind of crop you can store for long. What are you going to do if it all rots?"

Every territory stockpiled food in preparation for bad harvests or wars.

But the grain Ghislain had cultivated was too much, even for emergencies.

One harvest could last them for years.

They couldn’t possibly eat it all. So what was the point of stockpiling it?

Ghislain replied casually.

"Our grain doesn’t spoil easily. It’ll last a few years in storage."

"That doesn’t even make sense."

"We can stockpile it, then sell it at a discount or distribute it before it goes bad. The larger grains will still sell well at that point."

Claude instinctively wanted to argue but held his tongue.

He didn’t know much about that freakish grain, so it was hard to say anything for sure.

In any case, they’d know in a few years.

"Fine, whatever. But even if we stockpile the grain, we’ll still have to sell rune stones to make money. So what business are you planning?"

"We can’t create resources... So we’ll make specialty products. That’s how we’ll make money."

"Wow, our lord is truly amazing... Did you expect me to say that? Do you think a specialty product is something you can just make up on the spot?"

Without resources or skilled workers, how could they produce anything? Without some secured technology, they wouldn’t even be able to produce basic goods, let alone specialty items.

Claude squinted and stared at Ghislain suspiciously.

"Growing that grain was possible because of mana. But making something is a completely different story. You need both technology and skilled workers. Do we have either of those?"

"Not yet."

"Then what are we going to make?! Stop wasting time and money and just sell the grain. Please, let’s be practical for once!"

Ghislain smiled wickedly again.

"Want to bet on it? This time, 20 years on the line."

"Co—wait! Hold on a second... Damn it."

Claude had almost said “Call,” but a sudden chill ran down his spine, and he barely stopped himself.

It was the moment when a gambler’s mind finally began to develop a sense of caution.