Faced with the piece of paper labeled “Human Rights” in large letters, the man found himself on the verge of tears.

*(Human rights… Looking back, my life was constantly influenced by this concept of ‘human rights.’)*

Born into poverty, the man was never granted any rights as a human—not by society, nor even by his own family. To survive, an instinct as natural as breathing, he resorted to stealing, robbing, and deceiving.

In time, he found himself working within a criminal organization. Although he knew there were people who lived “honest” lives, he never paid them any mind, dismissing it as irrelevant. He ignored the rights of others, thinking only of his own survival.

Eventually, he was captured. But instead of being taken to the guard station, he found himself brought here—to Vandalieu's workshop.

He was stripped of his name, given only a number, and treated as an experimental subject. Yet instead of facing a gallows or a life of hard labor in the mines, he was given nutritious meals and suspicious potions… and thrown into what could only be described as a forced harem.

Since eight women had chosen him as their partner, he was kept busy, fulfilling his “duties” for them day and night, without respite.