SSS Demon King System: The Rise of a Dying Extra-Chapter 35: The Filthy Half-breed.

"You can come in," Lloyd said with a calm attitude.

"Thank you, Master Lloyd, I’ve done what you asked," a voice said.

Before Lloyd stood a young man, about twenty years old.

He had brown hair, combed back, and wore a monocle that gave him an intellectual air.

"Good, I’ll follow you," the boy said, getting down from his seat.

That man was Daimon Notos, a young merchant who had recently entered the slave smuggling business.

The reason he hadn’t died was because Lloyd saw potential in him.

After walking a good stretch through the rocky corridors of the fort, they finally arrived at a spacious cell.

There were several people placed there, dressed in ragged clothes.

A mark glowed on their necks, showing they were slaves.

"These are all the human slaves capable of working. As you can see, their condition is not the best; however, they were the only ones who weren’t injured," Daimon said professionally.

"I see," Lloyd said, somewhat disappointed.

He was doing this for a side mission, and also, because he needed personnel.

However, there was nothing remarkable among them, his pupil told him everything. Or so he thought, until he noticed her.

She was a girl, with dirty and disheveled grayish hair.

She was scrawny, bones showing beneath her grimy skin; and her face, was devoid of all emotion.

Normally Lloyd wouldn’t have shown interest in the girl; but when the Eye of Envy rested on her: it showed nothing.

His eye couldn’t read her.

How was that possible?

The slaves who entered Conrad’s fort never became the same again.

Most, generally; however, that place was also used as a resting site for traffickers. Not all were destined to suffer.

Nevertheless, just one night in the fortification is enough to drive someone mad.

Most slaves who spent the night in that place had lost faith.

Most lacked real value, they had been sold by their families for less than four copper scales, enough to eat for a week, going hungry.

Their life was already miserable before, but something can always get worse.

Most had no hope, they didn’t even feel the strength to take their own lives.

It was a state similar to the walking dead, someone who only obeys orders, without emotions, without complaining; just waiting for everything to end.

That’s why, when they saw how the guards were massacred, they felt no emotion.

Even if they were saved, they had nothing left.

However, it was clear it wasn’t an act of benevolence, they just changed owners; though most likely, that "owner" wouldn’t see value in them.

His gaze said it all, even being a child; he was cold, he didn’t see them as people, but as objects.

Though to be fair, they didn’t consider themselves people anymore either.

That boy rested his gaze on each one, with growing disappointment.

Did he expect to find something more? How deluded!

However, his eyes changed when they saw... what was her name?

Right, "the filthy half-breed."

Of course, only some knew that nickname, only those who were in her same village.

Hunger ravaged the streets of that small place years ago.

Bad harvests brought poverty, poverty brought hunger, and hunger, madness.

People became demons, hateful, merciless.

She was the perfect victim.

Her mother was a prostitute, or at least had to be to put bread in her mouth.

However, that girl wasn’t the product of one of her clients; she was born before the great famine, daughter of a foreigner, someone from the eastern continent.

But her father abandoned them both, leaving the mother alone with a half-breed.

But her mixed heritage wasn’t the only peculiar thing about her; her behavior was the strangest.

She was born without receiving affection, hated by her own mother, who punished her for every mistake.

That sculpted her personality: a doll that doesn’t complain, doesn’t cry, and obeys.

She was creepy, disgusting, and also... wonderful!

She was the perfect punching bag since you could vent on her.

Hit her, insult her, spit on her, throw stones at her, kick her; anything that came to mind, she wouldn’t move.

Her mother once had an idea: sell the girl’s services, as if she wanted to open a family business.

However, it was a stupid idea, no one would be interested in that disgusting being.

She didn’t receive clients as a "lady of company" either, so like everyone else, she became a beggar.

But it was there when she had the idea that would really work: charge every time they hit the girl.

Well, the truth is that business went much better.

But there was something strange.

No child would have endured that, it was unnatural; that she had no emotions was strange, but beneficial... However, that she hadn’t died, was already too creepy.

People began to fear her, to hate her; some moved away when they saw her, others tried to really kill her.

That’s why, when a carriage full of slaves passed through the village, her mother didn’t hesitate to sell her.

One copper scale, that was the girl’s value.

And everyone thought the merchant was too good-natured for accepting that deal.

"Daimon, what can you tell me about... her?" the boy’s cold eyes had fixed on the girl.

What was in his gaze?

Bewilderment? And some fear.

The truth is that none of the slaves could notice that; without having eaten in days, their minds didn’t work well.

Some thought that perhaps he liked her?

After all, they were similar ages.

However, that was more than impossible, there was no attraction in a filthy half-breed girl.

That’s why the smartest ones thought differently; perhaps he was trying to act good.

Though, that didn’t make any sense either.

That boy clearly belonged to the upper class.

The fact that he didn’t react accordingly when seeing them is simply that he had already lost his humanity.

Most likely, he was the son of a successful trafficker.

"Her, sir? She’s the youngest slave, to be honest it’s rare that at that age she’s still alive in these conditions. Most children would have died on the journey, plus there weren’t many young people in the area I brought her from," the young man commented seriously.

"That’s all? Can’t you at least tell me her name?" the boy said clearly irritated.

"No, though her mother referred to her as..."

"Filthy half-breed, I’m aware," the boy said annoyed while clicking his tongue. "I want her clean and well-fed by tonight, send her to my room by then."

The boy said while turning abruptly and starting to walk toward the exit.

"I didn’t know you had those tastes, Master Lloyd, well, I suppose you’re entering that age; however, if you’ll allow me to make a sug..." Daimon’s voice was suddenly interrupted, great pressure was exerted on his body.

"Daimon, are you sure you want to continue your joke? I’m not in the mood for games," the boy said, wrapped in a macabre and ominous aura, which painted the air with sinuous dark tones.

"I’m sorry, my lord, I overstepped," Daimon said with difficulty, making the pressure stop. "But, if you’ll allow me one last comment, what do I do with them?"

The boy looked at them with cold disinterest, then rolled his eyes with clear annoyance.

"If they want to die let them ask for it, if they want to live give them work," and with those cold words, the boy left the cell.

The young man sighed, killing people who want to die wouldn’t give him V.P, so they weren’t useful to him.

Moreover, Lloyd couldn’t waste more time with the slaves, since he had matters to attend to.

A meeting with the beast-men awaited him.