The World Is Mine For The Taking

Chapter 961 - 147 - Battle On The Slave Market (3)

The Fifth Level.

It had a reputation among those who dealt with the slave market. They said it was the most secured area as well as the place where the market stored its worst secrets and its most dangerous locks, guarded by a being so powerful that people who spoke of it did so in half-phrases and lowered voices. I didn’t know the truth of what it was, only that Han walked tight behind me, shoulders practically pressing into my back as if I were her shield. That small, protective closeness said more about the thing we were about to face than any rumor could.

"You know, Leon, I think what you’re doing is admirable." Han’s voice cut through the stale air—quiet, casual, but with a weight to it that made me look over my shoulder.

"What is?" I asked, keeping my steps slow so as not to draw attention.

"What you’re doing. Specifically, what you’re trying to do." Her words were simple, but they carried this odd, assessing tone—as if she were trying to fit my actions into a shape she could understand.

For a second I had no idea what she meant. My head was full of angles and plans and the cold metal of doors we still had to get through.

"Although I won’t go as far as to call what you’re doing morally right or just," she continued, "I still think it’s admirable. I mean, you’re helping these slaves escape their fates of being locked here, right? Because in the long run, that could actually make a difference."

It wasn’t a speech—just an observation. Still, it landed somewhere inside me. She wasn’t wrong. I’d agreed to this because Artemis had asked, sure, and because it was her final requirement for domination. And yes—because there was the practical, unmistakable benefit of gaining women. That last part made my stomach tighten with something that wasn’t strictly noble.

It really wasn’t a clean, heroic motive. I knew that. But when you’re already knee-deep in mud, you stop worrying about how pretty the path looks; you worry about whether it gets you out. Momentum mattered more than labels. Han seemed to sense that, and after a beat she added, "But still—even if it’s not exactly a moral thing to do, I find it admirable in its own way."

We moved on, the corridor narrowing as we went. The deeper levels always felt like they took the daylight’s memory and ground it down—on the third and fourth floors the light had been thin; here, on the fifth, it was darker still, but not so black that you couldn’t see. The gloom hung like cloth. Every footstep echoed with a hollow, metallic ring, and the smell—metal, old sweat, oil—pressed against us like a visible thing.

"So, this is it, huh?" I muttered when we reached the heart of the level.

The cells here were different. Where the first floors had used cages—bars that you could almost think about squeezing through—these were fortified doors, cold and unyielding. Metal met metal with a finality that sent a little chill through my hands. These weren’t cages; they were vaults.

"Yes." Han pointed. "That one."

She indicated a single door among the row. Up close it looked worse: thick, scarred metal with a slot of darkness for a window—if a window it could be called. My gut tightened.

"But uh, what the hell is that?" I asked, nodding toward the bulk pressed against the floor in front of the doorway.

"An ogre," she said, like she was naming a breed of dog.

"Ogre? That’s the first I’ve ever seen one." The words came out flat, partly arrogance, partly discomfort.

Han’s expression tilted into something like amusement and warning at once. "This one’s pretty ferocious. If you’re a woman, she’d tear you apart—literally—by the legs. If you’re a man and she happens to fancy you, well... say goodbye to your hips. She’d crush them."

The image was grotesque and immediate. Not the kind of thing you wanted to picture while standing still. So she’d forcefully have sex with me? And fuck me to death? My confidence in my own body was solid—until I compared it to that. Even the strongest woman I could think of seemed puny beside whatever mass lay there.

"Hehehe, Leon, are you scared?" Han teased, voice low. "Oh, and by the way, rumor has it she’s still a virgin. Every time she gets a male for herself, the poor guy dies before anything even happens. So maybe she’s saving herself for you."

"There’s no way," I muttered, half a denial and half a prayer. I’d had more than my fill of overly muscular women; this thing didn’t even feel like the same category. Calling it a woman at all felt wrong.

We stood there for a long breath, just the two of us and the ogre’s heavy, uneven breathing. It was sleeping now, a deep, thunderous slumber that made the floor reverberate. It would have been easy—too easy—to murder it in its sleep. But there was a problem: the ogre’s bulk blocked the door. Killing it where it lay would leave a carcass across our path. To pass, I’d have to wake it.

"Be careful, Leon," Han warned. "Her body’s like steel. If you underestimate her, you’ll get crushed, and I’ll end up ripped apart right after since I’m a woman."

Her voice was flat but the warning tugged at the back of my neck. The thing’s presence felt like pressure—solid and cold—making air feel thicker around it. You don’t fight that sort of thing without paying for the cost.

"Well then..." I exhaled, letting the breath fog out in the dim light. "Can you cast a spell on her, Han?"

"Why? You can just kill her while she’s sleeping, you know," she said, eyebrows lifting like she couldn’t believe I was hesitating.

"I know scum deserve to die without knowing how they died," I replied, surprising myself with the half-joke, "but I’m gentleman enough to give a lady a proper death. Even if she doesn’t look much like one."

Han rolled her eyes like she’d heard stranger excuses, but she didn’t argue. "You’ve got a weird sense of honor," she said. "Whatever. Here I come."