6
Ricardo’s wish was in vain, for Anastasia was facing the greatest crisis of her life.
“Mmm! Mmmm!”
A gag was pulled tight around her mouth, and her limbs were bound. She couldn’t even sit up properly. It was a textbook-perfect kidnapping.
This is bad…this is really bad… Anastasia groaned, squirming with all her might.
The moment she woke, she immediately recognized the abnormality of the situation. Her realization was instant, and along with it came clear memories of what had happened just before she lost consciousness. Even so, she remained exceptionally calm for a hostage. Whether or not that would lead to any kind of breakthrough, however, was another matter entirely.
She thought back to the last moments before she blacked out—the voice of the man who had struck her on the head.
It was the same thief who had tried to steal from the Chuden Company a few days ago. The man she had caught, and the man Ricardo had punched into the sky. And to top it all off, she had slapped him in front of a cheering crowd.
It was crystal clear—this was revenge.
Thieves in Kararagi faced severe punishment. Had the laws been followed, this man should have lost an arm for his crime. Yet here he was, taking revenge instead. His tenacity was almost commendable, though Anastasia wished he’d found a better hobby.
“Hiff hi knew hith hould hahhen… Dhe holh man houldn’t have hun hat…”
After reminding herself that Ricardo was partly to blame for this mess, Anastasia regained her composure.
Making a fuss won’t accomplish anything.
There were no windows in the room, so screaming would be pointless. If there had been any chance of someone hearing her, her kidnapper wouldn’t have locked her in there in the first place.
From the echo of her voice, she could tell the room was small. The floor was cold and hard, but not stone. It seemed like a makeshift hut built on top of natural rock. It wasn’t well constructed, which meant it had probably been built in a hurry.
What is this man trying to accomplish?
Now that she had assessed her surroundings, her thoughts shifted to her kidnapper’s intentions.
He’s after revenge—that much is obvious. The real question is, what kind of revenge?
If he had simply wanted to scare her, he wouldn’t have gone this far. If he had a short temper, he might just torture and kill her.
“Hell, it’s hotta he hlavery.”
The most likely scenario was that he intended to sell her into slavery.
Slave trading wasn’t uncommon in Banan, or in Kararagi as a whole. Labor had obvious value, and enslaved people were used as servants, forced into hard labor, or put to work maintaining roads.
Back when Anastasia had lived in the slums, she had almost been caught by slave traders many times. Under Banan city law, nobody batted an eye when hyenas were enslaved. Well-dressed children, on the other hand, were left alone—an unspoken rule among slave traders.
“Hut’s hun is hun…”
What’s done is done.
No excuses or explanations mattered now.
But Anastasia wasn’t some nameless urchin anymore. The Chuden Company could verify her identity and protect her. And more importantly, she had Ricardo. If anyone dared to sell her into slavery, Ricardo would sink his fangs into their throat.
That wasn’t wishful thinking—it was a cold, hard fact. Though, she supposed, a little vanity was involved.
“I’m tellin’ you the truth! She’s the crown jewels. You’ll get it when you see her!”
Just as Anastasia had reached her conclusion, a cheerful voice approached. A scrawny man strutted into the dark room, his rough voice forced into a high falsetto.
His face and voice were both familiar. It was the thief.
Following behind the thief were two other men, both towering over him. When standing beside the scrawny man, the contrast they created was like two mighty oaks sandwiching a withered branch.
“We’d never doubt you, buddy,” one of the big men said. “It’s just that people tend to screw up when they’re desperate.”
The thief shrank under the big man’s intimidating gaze. “G-gimme a break. I’d never be so reckless. L-look! It’s her…!”
With a shaky finger, he pointed at Anastasia. Keeping her wits about her, she pretended to still be unconscious, focusing on keeping her breathing slow and steady. She could feel the weight of the two men’s gazes as they studied her.
“Dang, she really is the crown jewels,” one of them finally said. “A beauty that can be polished into a mega-beauty. She’s like the jackpot to end all jackpots, man.”
Anastasia let out a small groan as one of them grabbed her by the hair, forcing her head up for inspection. But they didn’t seem to notice that she was awake, continuing their rough appraisal.
The way they spoke made it painfully obvious they were slave traders.
Hearing the word beauty sent an unpleasant shiver down her spine. The bar matron’s warning came rushing back to her, and she cursed herself for having dismissed it so easily.
I hope I get to see her again someday…and apologize.
“O-okay, then…so, negotiation time? Right?” the thief asked, his voice shaking with a nervous attempt at confidence.
“Yeah, you wanted to bring us a gift to join our company… And you brought us the crown jewels. This’ll help us out a lot.”
“So you mean—?!”
“But that was only if this girl was some stray dog without a leash.”
“—huh?”
The thief barely had time to process the words before something slammed violently against the wall. A pained scream followed, along with the sound of something heavy collapsing to the ground.
Anastasia didn’t move. But from the reverberations, she could tell exactly what had happened. The thief had just been punched. Hard.
That was the amateur’s punishment for breaking that implicit understanding that all slavers shared.
“Ahh! Ahhhh! Oww…shit, that hurts! Gah!”
“Shut your trap. You’ll wake the girl and scare her.”
The slave trader released Anastasia’s hair and turned away from her. She risked cracking one eye open, just enough to see what was happening. The two traders stood over the thief, one of them digging a heavy boot into his stomach, making him choke out a whimper.
“Got it? We traffickers have our rules. City officials turn a blind eye and let us do business—but only if we follow those rules. You really think we’ll let some ignorant bastard like you work with us? Eh? Do you?”
“Agh—umf…s-sorry… Please…!”
The pressure on the thief’s gut increased, and there was an awful crunching sound. He spat up blood, his pleas turning into broken whimpers.
The second trader crouched beside him, leaning in close. “You learned something today. Good for you. Don’t worry. We’ll teach you everything you need to know about our trade—on the job.”
“Th-thank y—”
A metallic clink cut off his words. His fingers trembled as they touched his neck, his face twisting in confusion. Then, realization dawned. His expression crumpled into horror.
“Why…a slave collar…on me?”
The trader smirked. “We said we’d teach you on the job, didn’t we? Much faster to learn the rules of the slave trade by being a slave. You’re spineless, but still young. If you’re lucky, you’ll live quite a while.”
“But…that wasn’t the deal!”
A boot slammed into his ribs, sending him into unconsciousness. The trader snorted and clamped shackles onto the now-limp thief, before tossing him aside like garbage.
“Amateurs,” he spat. “The stupid shit they pull pisses me off. Ahh, but at least we got the crown jewels. The rule-breaker got his punishment, so nobody loses.”
“I think the two new slaves lose,” the second trafficker muttered smugly.
The first cocked his head and grunted, then turned his eyes back to Anastasia.
“Sorry, but I don’t see slaves as people. They’re merchandise. Just like meat and fish.”
And with that, the two traders left the hut, locking the door behind them. Their footsteps faded into the distance, leaving the room dark and silent once again.
Anastasia finally let go of the breath she had been holding.
Her pulse was racing. Her body was drenched in cold sweat.
They hadn’t noticed she was awake.
She had one chance.
“Hut hill…”
She was marked. By slave traders.
The thief had ended up as merchandise, too, but that was no consolation to her.
Whether karma came quickly or slowly for the thief, it was meaningless to Anastasia now.
Several hours later, she determined by instinct that it was night.
During that time, Anastasia lay on the cold floor. The urge to roll over assaulted her time and time again, but she had to resist it. And as for why—
“Why’d this have to happen to me…dammit…son of a…”
The thief had regained consciousness. He was sobbing, unable to accept reality. If he realized Anastasia was awake, she’d surely become the target of his misery. Her best course of action was to lie still and avoid making even the smallest noise.
That aside, feeling any resentment over sleeping on a cold stone floor was something her past self never would have dreamed of. But that didn’t mean her life of luxury had made her weak. Quite the opposite. She took pride in the fact that she had worked for the life she had now.
The more someone lived like a human being, the less they could tolerate inhuman conditions. That was how it should be. No one should aspire to be comfortable living at the bottom. Everyone should dream big and climb higher.
“Hey, you. Aren’t you awake? C’mon, you’re awake, right?”
Sick of his own pity party, the thief crawled over to Anastasia. From the resentful tone in his voice, it was clear he meant to hurt her. The slave traders must have assumed he wouldn’t dare do something that stupid—but Anastasia knew better.
The thief grabbed the gag tied around her mouth and ripped it off roughly.
“…Yeah, I’m awake. ’Cause you wouldn’t shut up.”
“You—you—you’re awake. Yeah, you’re awake! You…little bitch…how dare you…”
“Just so you know, if you hurt me, you ain’t gettin’ a deal. You know how much I’m worth, right? If you lay a finger on me, those slave traders really will kill you this time.”
“Urg—groo—grah!”
The word kill made the thief stiffen, swallowing all the emotions he had been about to unleash. The pain of being punched and kicked earlier returned with full force. Completely deflated, he clutched his aching ribs and whimpered.
“So…where are we?” Anastasia asked.
No answer.
“Got anything we can use to escape?”
Still no answer.
Hopeless. We not getting anywhere.
Deciding it was pointless to waste words on a defeated man, Anastasia slowly sat up. Her limbs were sore and stiff, but she twisted her joints and forced herself to crawl to the hut’s entrance.
“Don’t even try.”
Ignoring the thief’s pessimism, Anastasia propped herself against the wall and hauled herself upright. Then, shaking the doorknob, she found it locked tight.
Lowering herself to the ground, she was about to rub her bound wrists against the stone floor to break free of the ropes, when—
“Sneak, sneak…mmm, yeah? There, like, seems to be somebody inside?”
Anastasia froze. There was a voice coming from the other side of the door. It was lighthearted and carefree, completely unlike the slave traders.
“Yes! I’m here! They kidnapped me!”
“Oooh, there is somebody! Woweeee! Just like Hetaro saaaaid! Okaaaay!”
The presence on the other side of the door retreated.
Anastasia barely had time to wonder what they were doing before she threw herself to the ground in panic.
Immediately after—
“Uyraaaah! Mimi KABOOM!”
With a cheerful yell, a pale blue light exploded through the hut’s door from the outside. The hinges snapped off, sending the wooden slab flying into the room.
“All riiight, success! Mimi, you ruuuule! Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh!”
A tiny figure stood triumphantly in the destroyed doorframe, bathed in moonlight. Then she started dancing, completely unbothered by the destruction, happily jiggling in place in excitement.
The silhouette was ridiculously small—barely half Anastasia’s height, and she was already short for her age. And from what little she could make out in the darkness, the form wasn’t even human.
With pointed ears, a tail, and soft fur, the figure looked just like a bipedal cat.
A catgirl.
“Oooweee, you got tied up real good, huh! Hang on juuust a sec!”
With a mischievous grin, the catgirl pounced on Anastasia’s bindings. Sharp claws made quick work of the ropes, freeing her wrists and ankles with ease.
Anastasia blinked, rubbing her sore wrists as she looked at the strange girl before her.
“Um…thanks?”
“Good, always say thank you! You’re a very good person for saying that. Hetaro and TB always remind Mimi not to forget to say thank you. What a good girl you aaaare, good girl, good girl.”
“C-cut it out, that tickles. So, um…who are you exactly?”
The orange-furred catgirl was petting Anastasia’s head without a care in the world, completely disregarding personal space. As Anastasia shrank away, she asked the question that had been nagging at her. The catgirl blinked her big round eyes and grinned.
“Hee-hee, purrfect question! Lemme seeeee… Mimi is a cat! That’s it, a cat!”
She proudly planted her hands on her hips, as if expecting applause.
“Cat…?” Anastasia echoed, confused.
As in a regular ol’ cat? Or is that supposed to be her name? No, she called herself Mimi…
“Sis, it’s not cat, it’s cat burglar.”
The voice of reason came from the entrance of the hut, right where the catgirl had stood. Another small figure stepped into view—a second catman. He was practically identical to her, save for a calmer expression and a slightly different build.
“Sorry for the confusion, ma’am. I’m Hetaro, and this is my big sister, Mimi. There’s no time to explain—just come with us.”
Unlike his boisterous older sister, Hetaro had a rational, measured tone, bowing politely as he spoke. Beside him, Mimi puffed out her chest proudly, nodding along, as if his introduction had been a grand declaration.
Anastasia wasn’t sure what to make of the two, but she could tell one thing for certain—they weren’t bad people.
“As Hoshin would say, ‘Decisiveness is mightier than the sword!’ Sure, I’ll come with you.”
Women should have pluck, and men should be pretty.
The self-proclaimed cat burglars had appeared suddenly, throwing her entire situation into chaos, but Anastasia had already made up her mind to trust them. In her short life, she had developed a keen sense for reading people, and her instincts told her they were on her side.
“Okay, let’s take that fine young man with us!”
Hetaro turned to the thief, motioning for him to join them.
But the thief just stared at the children in terror, his eyes wide with fear.
“D-don’t be ridiculous! I can’t run away with you kids… If they find me, they’ll kill me! W-well, no thanks! I don’t wanna die… Anything but that…!”
“But you can’t—”
“Don’t bother,” Anastasia cut Hetaro off before he could press the issue. “Nothing you could say’ll change his mind. The only folks who can live an honest life are the ones who’ve got the courage to walk on their own two feet.”
Hetaro hesitated, but Mimi tapped his shoulder encouragingly.
“Mmm, tough break, huhhh! But it’s out of our hands. The only people we can help are people who wanna be helped.”
Surprisingly, Mimi had reached the same conclusion as Anastasia. With a tug of her brother’s hand, she coaxed him into letting it go.
“Whereabouts in the city are we?” Anastasia asked.
“Dump Mountain, in the corner of town,” Hetaro answered. “Those slave traders always use this spot.”
“And Mimi’s crew founnnnd it! It’s justice time, wooo!”
Dump Mountain was the colloquial name for the city’s dumping grounds, a place used for disposing of dirt, sand, and scrap wood. It was an isolated area, rarely visited, making it the perfect place for a secretive operation like slave trading.
Anastasia glanced up at the moon, heaving a small sigh of relief before checking her bearings. The city was still far away—even the slums were a good distance from here. She could walk long distances well, but there was no way she could keep up with the nimble catmen.
They couldn’t call for help, either. That would only attract attention from the slave traders.
Their best option was to retreat quietly—
“What a baaad girl you are. Running away like that.”
A smug voice rained down from above, shattering all of her carefully laid plans. Anastasia’s body tensed as she stopped in her tracks. And then something massive landed before them, sending a tremor through the ground.
The moment she laid eyes on him, her breath caught in her throat.
A giant stood before them, clothed in mismatched beast leathers and furs. Four arms protruded from his shoulders.
Bug-like eyes glistened in the moonlight. And his voice was unmistakable. It was the second slave trader from the hut.
“You’re gonna be a slave, so it’s good that you’ve got spunk. I love ’em spunky. But too much spunk isn’t exactly a good thing. Need me to cool your head off?”
Anastasia stifled a scream as he leaned in close, his breath hot against her face.
But it wasn’t the man himself that terrified her.
It was what he held in his hand—a gruesome object she wished she hadn’t seen.
“Oh, this? Yeah, guess that would give you a scare. Sorry, my bad.”
He dangled it in front of her, the bloodied mass glistening in the moonlight.
“But you know, he let you kids escape, didn’t he? Imagine, a slave letting another slave escape. This guy really didn’t understand the rules now, did he?”
With a chuckle, the man waved the severed head in his hand side to side, the thief’s lifeless face frozen in an eternal expression of horror. He had likely taken his final breath without even understanding why he was being killed.
Then, with a careless flick of his wrist, the man tossed the head aside. His hand, still dripping with gore, slowly reached toward Anastasia’s neck—
“Preemptive attack!!!”
“Whoa, there.”
Before he could grab her, Mimi shot forward, delivering a lightning-fast kick to his side. But the four-armed man effortlessly blocked the blow with his lower left arm, then snatched Mimi out of the air with his upper right.
“Mrrrg?! Huh? You’ve got extra hands? That’s so coooool!”
“Yeah, it’s super cool. Sorry, dear, but whoever has the most hands wins. It’s a fact of life.”
“Let my sister go!”
While Mimi flailed in his grip like an excited kitten, Hetaro slipped behind the man in an attempt to strike from his blind spot. But the towering man moved with an unnatural smoothness, dodging as if he had eyes in the back of his head.
Before Hetaro could react, two massive arms snagged him from behind, locking him in place.
“So! Coooool!” Mimi cheered, kicking her legs.
“Sorry, Sis, I’m so sorry…,” Hetaro grunted, struggling against the iron grip.
With both Mimi and Hetaro restrained, the slave trader turned his smug, bug-eyed gaze on Anastasia. He didn’t even have to say it—she could hear the mockery in his expression alone: Look at that, my arms are all full. Maybe you should run while you still can?
“The only moron who’d believe a too-good-to-be-true scenario like that is the guy who just died.”
The man grinned, impressed. “How very true. Sometimes intelligence can be a curse, can’t it?” Then he snickered. “Still, I gotta say, not a bad trade. I get two useful cat-kids in exchange for a dumbass? I’d call that a win.”
Anastasia’s ears perked up. She could hear the other slave trader approaching from behind.
They were about to tie her up again. This time, they wouldn’t just lock her in a hut. This time, she would be sold.
Before they put a gag on her, she had one last thing to do.
“Let me just tell you one thing.”
The man paused, intrigued. “Hmmm?”
“If you hurt me, a big, bad, scary wolf is gonna come after you. And I ain’t as sweet as I look, either.”
The slaver threw his head back and laughed, his shoulders shaking violently with glee.
“Ooh, nice, how very nice. Well, then, I’ll be looking forward to that.”
To him, it was just the last words of a sore loser.
Which meant the battle had already begun.
Never wage wars you know you’ll lose before they even start.
Even as the slave trader grabbed her shoulders roughly and shoved a gag into her mouth, even as she was dragged away…
…The fire in Anastasia’s eyes never dimmed.
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