Chapter 4 Is This Older Sister My Slave?
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
When I woke up in my chair the next morning, Charlotte was still asleep, her face looking incredibly innocent.
Looking at her closely, she was actually quite pretty. She was older than me, sure, but she had the kind of looks that just naturally drew you in. In my old world, she would have been a top-tier beauty, even if that was just the baseline for people here.
She was short and painfully thin, and her hair looked like it had been through a thresher. Her overall appearance was a mess. While she was technically covered, she was basically just draped in filthy, tattered rags. The cloth was worn thin, fraying at the edges and mottled with yellow stains.
The fact that I could still think she was attractive despite all that suggested she might be one of the truly beautiful ones in this world-if she ever got cleaned up.
Yesterday, she’d spent the whole time glaring at me with eyes full of terror and suspicion, so I hadn’t really thought of her as a woman. But seeing her like this, so defenseless, made my heart skip a beat.
Technically, according to the country’s records, this woman was my slave. I wondered just how far a master was allowed to go in this world.
No, no. Stop. That’s a bad line of thinking.
I shook my head and stood up, stretching out the knots in my back from sleeping in a wooden chair. As I was finishing my warm-ups, Charlotte’s eyes snapped open.
”Ah! I’m so sorry!” she cried out. “I can’t believe I slept longer than you, Master!”
”It’s fine, really,” I replied. “I was sleeping in a chair, so I was bound to wake up early anyway. Besides, you don’t need to worry about being ‘on duty’ until it’s actually time for work.”
I realized as I said it that I hadn’t even figured out what our work was going to be yet. Despite my attempt to calm her down, she scrambled to her feet.
”Now, now,” I said, gently guiding her back into the chair. “Let’s figure out our plan for today.”
I had things I wanted to do, but I figured she might have better suggestions on what was necessary. As I watched her, she seemed a little more relaxed, as if we were actually starting to build some rapport. I gave her an expectant look.
”Um, it isn’t really recommended to let a slave roam free,” Charlotte said quietly. “It would probably be best if we went to the slave trader’s place first.”
”Hmm. Are there actual penalties for that?” I asked. “And can people tell just by looking at you that the binding magic¹ hasn’t been used yet?”
”There is no punishment for the master, and the Slave Crest² isn’t visible unless you show it,” she explained. “But if you’re caught, people will see you as someone who defies the laws of the land. And for the slave… it won’t end with just a dirty look.”
I see. If they think we’re faking our social standing, things get ugly. Honestly, the whole slave thing gave me pause, but I was in a tight spot. Whether she was legally my slave or not, the risk of information leaking was the same. It really just came down to whether or not I treated her humanely. I just had to be careful.
”Wait, Charlotte-san… this magic… it won’t change who you are, will it?”
”No,” she replied. “It’s mostly just a slight shift in your perspective.”
When I pressed her, she explained that it was more of an instinctive understanding-a bone-deep feeling that I was a superior being she was compelled to obey.
”Master, if it’s you, I don’t have any objections,” she added. “Please, just do what needs to be done.”
”Is the risk really that high for both of us?” I asked, a bit taken aback.
”Yes. The master loses all credibility, and the slave is whipped.”
”Yeah, okay. We’re definitely not doing that. Let’s go to the magic shop.”
She looked visibly relieved at my answer. As we walked, I muttered something about how no one should have to go through something so painful.
”Oh, it isn’t that bad,” she said.
”Are you kidding? Getting whipped is terrifying,” I countered. “I’ve never had it happen, but I’ve heard it’s enough to kill a person.”
She seemed to take my hesitation as worry about the contract itself rather than the punishment, and she began to explain how she felt. Apparently, as far as slave masters went, I was the jackpot. Even though we’d only met yesterday, she felt I was giving her extraordinary treatment. She told me that she was actually happy to be in my service.
It was a bit overwhelming. I was a guy who could barely afford a single room in a dumpy inn, and she was looking at me like I was a saint. I guess this was what a ‘slave mentality’ looked like when it was ingrained.
Ethically, it was a mess. But practically speaking, having someone who physically couldn’t betray me was incredibly convenient. I didn’t feel a burning need to enforce Japanese moral standards in a world that didn’t share them. Morals should come from personal empathy, not just following a rulebook because someone told you to.
When in Rome, do as the Romans do.
We headed to the slave trader’s shop. When I showed my residency permit, the trader immediately understood the situation-the crown had already sent word. The contract was finalized on the spot.
The trader placed two fingers on Charlotte’s hand and incanted ‘Slave Transfer.’ Using a drop of my blood and a spark of my Mana, the registration was complete. Since the transfer was a government order, they didn’t even charge me a fee.
And just like that, in less than twenty minutes, Charlotte was officially my slave.
”Well, I guess I’m in your hands. Let’s get to work,” I said.
”Yes, Master,” she replied.
Suddenly, she looked at me with a gaze full of intense affection. I couldn’t help but wince.
So the binding magic really does warp the heart. This is… heavy.
Seeing the look on my face, she started to look anxious again.
”It’s nothing, don’t worry,” I said quickly. “Alright, first things first-we need to fix your appearance. If we’re going to be doing business, you need to look the part.”
”But… if I dress too far above my station…” she trailed off, looking worried. She explained that if she looked too good, people would look at me like I was some kind of eccentric.
”I don’t care about that,” I told her. “If anyone gives you trouble, just tell them it’s your master’s personal fetish. I don’t mind.”
”What!? No! I couldn’t!” she gasped. “That would ruin your reputation, Master!”
Her reaction was way more intense than it had been at the inn. The magic was definitely amplifying her devotion. I appreciated the loyalty, but knowing it came from a spell felt a little hollow.
”Look, I’d much rather have a relationship where we just get along naturally,” I muttered.
She looked totally lost, her eyes darting back and forth in confusion.
”I just mean I don’t like the idea of you being forced to like me,” I added. “It’s not that I’m unhappy with you, Charlotte.”
Even if we were just employer and employee, I wanted real trust. I’ve lived long enough to know that genuine connections are worth more than anything.
”Is it… really okay for someone like me to want that?” she asked softly.
”Of course. If you’re happy to be here, that makes me happy.”
She seemed dazed, as if the concept of having her own desires was something she hadn’t considered in years. I didn’t push it. We headed to a textile shop to get her some decent clothes.
The fabric was expensive, and ready-made clothes were even worse. I ended up buying cloth, thread, and some wool. I realized then that everything in this world was handmade. No wonder the prices were so high. It explained why people clung to their rags until they practically dissolved.
Next, we visited the Subjugators Guild. It was basically an Adventurer’s Guild for dealing with monsters-creatures that weren’t part of the Demon Race but still possessed Mana. Charlotte had filled me in on the details yesterday.
Monsters were basically wild animals, though some were inorganic or completely alien. They were drawn to human Mana, and while some could be tamed, most were hostile.
Levels existed here, and you could check them, but they didn’t tell the whole story. A Level 100 Farmer wouldn’t stand a chance against a Level 10 Hero. Your profession dictated your strength. Still, I wanted to raise my Mana, so I was eager to get started. Plus, I wanted to see what was outside the city walls.
We registered at the guild. Charlotte was a Level 8 Farmer, and I was a Level 1… well, whatever I was. The staff gave me a knowing look-word of the ‘special’ summon must have gotten around-but they processed the registration without any questions.
Finally, we went to a weapon shop. Since I was a non-combat class and just wanted to grind some easy levels, I bought three of the cheapest junk swords I could find. They were in pathetic shape-heavily chipped, rusted, and bent so badly they looked like boomerangs. It was a miracle they were even on display. But they only cost me a tenth of the price of a real blade.
The shopkeeper tried to talk me into buying something decent several times, but I just told him I was broke until he backed off.
We grabbed some lunch and dinner to go, then headed back to the inn.
Phew. Good day’s work.
I sat down on the bed and let out a long breath.
”Master… if you wish, I can go out and find work to earn some coin,” Charlotte said. She was clearly still dwelling on the fact that I couldn’t afford ‘real’ weapons.
”No, I want you to stay with me,” I said. “At least until we figure out a routine.”
I needed her as a guide for common sense in this world. She looked dejected, slumping her shoulders as if she’d let me down.
”It’s not like that. Just relax,” I added. It was going to take a while for her to get used to me.
”Anyway, let’s get to it. It’s Skill Time!”
I’d been waiting for this. I opened my interface and started moving my purchases into my Inventory. Charlotte watched, her jaw dropping.
”It’s a profession skill,” I explained. “A bit unusual, so let’s keep this between us, alright?”
”Yes, Master!”
I started tapping through the menus while she watched. If I could handle basic tailoring and weapon repair, that would be enough of a cover. Being a ‘useless’ crafter who somehow managed to live a comfortable life-that was the goal.
If there’s a line I’m allowed to cross, it’s probably better for her to know where it is. It would certainly make our daily lives easier. With that in mind, I had Charlotte sit beside me so she could watch while I worked.
”What kind of clothes would you like, Charlotte?” I asked.
”Oh… whatever Master chooses to give me,” she replied, her face flushing a deep crimson.
It was the first time I’d seen her react quite like that. Why now? Was it because I’d framed the clothes as a gift? I was a bit taken aback by how bashful she was – she was clearly becoming conscious of me as a man – but I decided to press on. It wasn’t exactly a problem, after all.
”Are you sure you’re okay with my personal taste? Well then, let’s see what I can do.”
I let my imagination wander. Using the wool as a base, I visualized a set of loungewear: a tight, fluffy minidress that looked comfortable enough to relax in.
It came out exactly as I’d envisioned. Though, looking at it now, the skirt might have been a little too short…
I pulled the garment out of the void. As I spread the fabric, I realized it felt even silkier and softer than the raw materials suggested. But there was no getting around it – the hemline was dangerously high.
”Oh, it’s wonderful…” Charlotte murmured, her eyes sparkling. Even after seeing the length, she seemed absolutely thrilled.
I’d caught a few glimpses of people outside the Town earlier, and none of them wore anything quite this daring. I felt a twinge of guilt for making something so revealing, but since she didn’t seem to mind, I handed it over.
The moment she touched the fabric, her eyes went wide. “This… this is a masterpiece, isn’t it?”
”Now, listen, Charlotte. This was made from the cheapest, lowest-grade materials we had. There’s no need to hold back. Besides, you were there when we bought the stuff, weren’t you?”
I spoke to her with the firm, wagging finger of a teacher lecturing a student. Charlotte looked utterly lost, as if she couldn’t reconcile my words with the quality of the dress in her hands.
”If it needs work, I can always remake it,” I offered.
”No, it’s not that! Is it… is it truly alright for someone like me to wear this?” she asked.
”Of course. I made it for you. Try it on, and if anything feels off, just let me know and I’ll fix it.”
At my word, she stood up. I assumed she would leave the room to change, but instead, she began to undress right then and there, barely attempting to shield herself.
”Wait! Hold on -!”
My heart did a violent somersault. Beneath her old clothes, she had nothing on at all. No underwear, no nothing.
She hurriedly pulled on the short dress, still trying to cover herself with her hands as she moved. But with a hemline that high, the moment she sat back down, everything would be on display. Wait. It’s fine. She’s sitting right next to me. I won’t see anything.
Actually, that wasn’t the point.
My pulse was racing, but seeing her clutch the dress with tearful, joyous eyes made it impossible to suggest she wear something else. Swallowing my embarrassment, I focused my mind on creating undergarments for her. Since they were going directly against her skin, I imagined something as soft as possible.
For some reason, my mind produced a set of sheer, silky lingerie that left very little to the imagination.
So, I thought, this is what’s lurking in my subconscious. It was definitely my “strike zone,” which made handing it over ten times more awkward.
”Here. It’s… well, take this too,” I said, holding out the underwear.
Charlotte took them with a bright red face. Then, for reasons I couldn’t fathom, she proceeded to put them on while facing me.
Is she… is she doing this on purpose?
The thought crossed my mind, but I didn’t have nearly enough guts to make a move without a clear invitation. Or was this the invitation? I found myself staring before quickly averting my eyes. The tension in the room was suffocating.
”M-Master?” she whispered.
”Y-yes?”
”Do I… do I look a little better now? Even someone like me?”
”Yeah,” I stammered. “Honestly, you’re so cute it’s actually a little overwhelming.”
Charlotte froze, her face turning an impossible shade of red as she stared at me. “Thank you… I’m so, so happy…”
She gave me a soft, trembling smile – a look of such pure, overwhelming gratitude that all my lecherous thoughts vanished like mist.
”I’m glad you like it. If you’re happy, I’m happy. Now, let’s work on your shop outfit.”
At those words, her eyes went wide once again.
—
Summary:
The protagonist finalizes the legal enslavement of Charlotte to avoid harsh penalties and social stigma. They visit several shops, including a textile shop and a weapon shop, and register at the Subjugators Guild. The chapter ends with the protagonist preparing to use his ‘Crafter’ skills on his newly acquired junk equipment.
The protagonist uses his creation magic to craft a new dress for Charlotte, inadvertently making it quite short. During the process, he discovers she hasn’t been wearing any undergarments and frantically creates some, which end up being quite provocative. The chapter ends with a moment of emotional bonding as Charlotte expresses deep gratitude for her new clothes.
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Trivia:
- Charlotte is older than the protagonist despite her small, emaciated frame.
- The ‘binding magic’ creates an artificial, intense affection in the slave.
- Levels are not absolute; a person’s ‘class’ or ‘profession’ is the primary factor in combat strength.
- The protagonist bought three broken swords for 1/10th the price, planning to repair them.
- Handmade textiles are a luxury in this world, leading to the prevalence of rags among the poor.
- The protagonist’s creation ability is influenced by his subconscious desires (the ‘strike zone’).
- Charlotte was previously wearing no underwear, highlighting her prior poor living conditions.
- The materials used were technically ‘low-grade’ even though the result was high-quality.
- Charlotte chose to change in front of the protagonist without hesitation
—
Character Insight:
The protagonist feels a moral conflict regarding the slave system but prioritizes survival and pragmatism. Charlotte shows deep-seated trauma and a ‘slave mentality,’ though she begins to feel a magically-induced (and possibly genuine) devotion to her new master.
Charlotte shows a mix of extreme modesty (blushing) and total lack of boundaries (undressing in front of Master), suggesting her devotion overrides social norms. The Master struggles with the power dynamic, feeling both lust and a paternalistic sense of guilt.
—
Behind the Scenes:
The ‘Subjugators Guild’ is specifically for non-demon monsters, hinting at a clear distinction between wildlife and sentient enemies in this setting.
The ‘low-grade material’ trope is common in isekai to demonstrate that the protagonist’s skill/mana is more important than the physical components used.
—
TL Notes:
Notes:
• Charlotte – Late‑teen girl, born a slave. short, skinny, looks tired but keeps going. clothes? just old stained rags, nothing else. brown hair’s messed up, face always wary like she’s been through it. used to be a lvl 8 farmer before all this. after the binding magic, she went full loyal mode, blushes hard whenever her master’s around.
• Hero – Ibuki’s upperclassman from Earth—summoned as the naive Hero with emotional, mentally fragile personality. Empathetic yet reluctant and inadequate-feeling, lacking survival instincts and political skills. Currently in despair and terrified by his situation.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
Thanks for reading.
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