Chapter 9

When we returned to our room at the inn, Clive spoke in a serious tone.

“—Your Highness, I ask that you refrain from using divine arts so casually when you’re out in public.”

“Why?”

I plopped down in a chair and looked up at him while tugging at the laces of my boots.

“…Rumors of Your Highness’s miracles have already begun spreading among the people. If things go badly, the public might even surround this entire building. From now until we leave the royal capital tomorrow morning, please refrain from going outside.”

“Got it. But you don’t have to worry. I’m not gonna use divine arts around here anymore. Unless it’s an emergency.”

I waved a hand dismissively, and Clive narrowed his eyes slightly.

“…You seem unusually understanding.”

“Because I’ve already done enough advertising.”

“…Huh?”

Once I took off my boots, I finally felt like I could breathe again.

I changed into a pair of soft indoor shoes and looked up at Clive, who still seemed a little dazed.

“If I keep using divine arts, people will get the wrong idea and think they can come to the royal capital to be saved. That’s no good. I need them to come to Seven Trees instead.”

“…………”

“So don’t worry. I know what I’m doing. Everything’s going according to plan.”

Well, that was a lie.

More than half the time I used divine arts, I just went with the flow.

And there was a bit of experimentation involved, too. It was important to find out whether the arts could cure illnesses. Thank God they worked. Seriously.

—Anyway.

Word of mouth was a powerful thing, especially in a world without smartphones or television.

They seemed to have newspapers, though. I’d spotted several crumpled ones lying around here and there.

Come to think of it, I could have newspaper reporters interview me or put advertisements in the papers. That might be worth trying someday.

I spent the rest of the day cooped up at the inn. The following morning, we boarded the carriage to leave the royal capital.

Shit, was I really in for another half day of having my ass hurt? I’d had them add more cushions, but who knew how much difference that would make?

Wait, couldn’t I just use divine arts on my own ass?!

Am I a genius or what?!

Just as I was celebrating my brilliant idea inside the carriage, something outside the window caught my attention.

“Clive—what kind of shop is that?”

It looked as though people were being chained up and led away.

And every single one of them looked miserable.

“…That is a slave shop.”

Huh. So slavery existed in this country, too.

What era was this supposed to be? Seriously, this world was straight-up medieval fantasy.

“Most of them are people who have voluntarily entered slavery.”

“Huh?”

“Those who become slaves are guaranteed personal safety, food, clothing, and shelter. For war orphans, the sick, and those burdened by debt, it is one of the last means available to them to survive.”

Hmm. So they had rights, at least. That was a relief.

Was it something like buying a junior underling and taking care of them?

“Clive, stop the carriage. I want to check out that shop.”

“But—”

“Are you saying you can’t follow a prince’s orders?”

I applied a little extra pressure to my words, and the carriage soon came to a stop.

I climbed out and entered the slave shop.

“Well, well! Welcome, sir! We have some fine slaves in stock today—”

The shopkeeper approached me, rubbing his hands together eagerly.

Hmm. He didn’t seem the least bit ashamed.

Slavery really was normal in this world—or rather, in this country. It was simply part of their culture.

I looked around the shop. Most of the slaves were young women. Each had a number and a price tag.

There were about twenty of them.

Honestly, the sight made me feel sick.

“Wow, you’ve got quite a few here. Business good?”

“Indeed! Thanks to the urban redevelopment projects now getting underway in various regions, more and more people are coming to the royal capital and falling into slavery. We have the royal family to thank for that!”

“Why? Wouldn’t all the special demand mean more jobs are opening up?”

With the city redevelopment race between the royal heirs, I would’ve expected plenty of work to become available in construction and related fields.

“That’s part of it, of course. But a lot of people have also been driven out of their homes… As a result, business has been booming for us.”

“Huh…”

The previous Yuri had been doing the same thing, too.

So the others were doing it as well.

“—Now then, what kind of slaves are you looking for? If you need sturdy slaves for manual labor, we still have some in the back—”

“I’ll buy them all.”

“…Pardon?”

“I’ll buy every single person in this shop, young and old, male and female.”

Everyone except me froze. The shopkeeper, the slaves, Clive, and the other guards.

—Huh?

That was a bit of an unexpected reaction.

They all looked genuinely confused.

A possibility occurred to me, so I leaned toward Clive and whispered, “Wait, am I broke?”

I’d been spending my pocket money pretty freely. Was it possible I didn’t have enough to buy every slave here?

I hadn’t really given it much thought, but what if we weren’t getting any funding for the city development project?

Oh, shit. That would be bad. There was no way I could develop something as huge as a city without even having the funds to get started.

Could I sell some of the prince’s personal belongings to make ends meet?

Maybe Amalie would lend me some money. The jewelry she wore looked pretty valuable.

“No… Before the succession battle began, the castle covered the expenses.”

Right, I was a prince!

“Just send the bill to the king.”

Come on, Dad. Do me a favor.

“—However, since the succession battle began, each contender has had to manage their own budget. At present, Lady Amalie is managing Your Highness’s funds.”

Seriously? She’d been doing all that for me?

“Got it.”

I turned back to the slave shop’s owner.

“Prepare an itemized statement and an invoice. Can you accept a bank transfer? Oh, and I’m Prince Yuri, by the way.”

Apparently, slaves were bound by something called a contract seal. Some kind of magical thing. Once it was in place, slaves couldn’t disobey the person who owned their contracts.

Transferring ownership of a slave meant changing the contract seal. The shopkeeper changed the master listed on each slave’s contract from himself to me.

The first thing I did in front of all fifty-six slaves was use divine arts to heal them.

A lot of them were injured, and plenty more had gloomy expressions.

After I used divine arts on them, they all looked at me as if I were God himself.

Sorry, guys. I’m not God.

“—All right. You’re going to work in my city from now on.”

Kindness didn’t come free, you know.

“Of course, I’ll pay you proper wages. You’ll have food, clothing, and shelter, and I’ll also provide opportunities for anyone who wants to study. You’ll even be able to buy back your own freedom.”

Now that I’d bought them, they were mine. If they were my junior underlings, then of course I’d take care of them properly.

“There are all kinds of jobs available. Customer service, cleaning, laundry, working at restaurants, manual labor, city security… If you have any other skills, let me know! I’m especially looking for people who can do unusual things. Like, say, build a disco ball.”

You know, the thing that spins around and throws light everywhere inside a club. That would be an absolute hit.

“All right, let’s head home. To my Seven Trees.”

And so, we left the royal capital and began our journey back to Seven Trees.

Even though I’d only spent three days there, I’d learned a lot about the city.

I’d seen how difficult life was for the women in this world.

And it wasn’t just women. The injured, the sick, the elderly, and children, too.

There didn’t seem to be many people in this country who had the means to lend a hand to the vulnerable, or places willing to take them in.

And that was exactly why I could make money if I played my cards right.

Take things that people called worthless, pick them up, help them recover, and turn them into something valuable.

This was probably the kind of idea only I—a modern Japanese person who’d become a prince—could come up with.

And that was precisely why I had a chance of winning the succession battle.

Not that I wanted to win. Being king sounded like a pain in the ass.

I just wanted to enjoy my life.

Build an entertainment district, use divine arts, and live happily and peacefully—

“…………”

As I gazed out at the passing scenery from inside the carriage, I furrowed my brow.

—My ass hurts.

Every bump in the road was sending vibrations straight through me. These cushions weren’t doing much at all!

But now, I had a secret weapon.

I’d just apply divine arts to my ass—

“…Huh? Why isn’t it working…? Don’t tell me it doesn’t work on me…!”

The healing arts I’d been so excited about weren’t having any effect whatsoever.

Clive gave me a puzzled look.

“…Your Highness, is something the matter?”

“It’s nothing!”

Shit! There was no way I could admit that my ass hurt!!

And I definitely couldn’t tell him I’d tried using divine arts on it!!

Wait a minute. Did that mean if I ever got injured or sick, I wouldn’t be able to heal myself with a miracle?!

—You’ve got to be kidding me…