Several days after that incident, Uncle El began bringing roasted at whenever we played chess together. It beca our unspoken exchange. I ate it, using it as my main source of protein.
Every ti we played, he was always the one guarding this slave prison. Strangely, he always seed to be assigned the shift alone.
After eating the roasted at, I never neglected my physical training. With my wrists restrained by handcuffs, I focused on exercises that required minimal arm movent—diamond push-ups, planks, squats, and pull-ups using the prison’s ventilation grates.
Whenever the portion of roasted at was more than I needed, I shared it with the other slaves in this section. Even if it stirred jealousy from nearby cages, I didn’t mind. I still believed in an old saying from my previous world: when you share kindness, it eventually finds its way back to you.
I hadn’t felt that return yet—but I was certain I would soday.
***
Without noticing, a full year passed in this prison. Nothing dramatic happened—no sudden turning points that demanded extre effort. Still, there was one change that quietly altered my life in a significant way.
"Uncle... this is your fifty-ninth loss, you know," I said lightly. "Are you really sure you want to make it sixty?"
His jaw tightened. "Shut up, kid. This ti, I’m the one winning."
"Eh? Are you angry?" I chuckled. "Because—puft—that’s exactly what you said the last fifty-nine tis."
The match continued. Ti passed. The longer it dragged on, the heavier the air beca.
He played aggressively, favoring an Italian-style opening. I countered with the Ponziani—sothing I’d faced countless tis back in my old world.
"Boom. Checkmate."
"How—again?!" he groaned, clutching his head.
I grinned. "That makes sixty losses in one year."
"Tch! I know!"
"...By the way, Uncle. The roasted at?"
He scrutinized . "Ah, yes. I almost forgot about that."
The uncle started to stand up from the table in front of him, stepping away from the cell where I was. Until he ca back bringing so ’Roasted at’ for to eat.
His hand offered the at from the gaps in the cell. "Here..."
I took it. "Thank you, Uncle!"
After the uncle gave the at, without further ado he imdiately sat in the chair that was already available when we played chess earlier. The table, which was initially right in front of the cell, began to be moved to the side to see directly.
I, who after taking the at from the uncle, imdiately sat down and ate it without thinking. The way I ate was similar to a starving person, fast, but not too sloppy.
The uncle watched from behind the cell. His eyes widened. "Wow... your body is bigger and more muscular now, huh...," he praised.
Yes. What I ant by a quite significant change earlier was my body. My body is now bigger and more shaped from behind the sackcloth clothes I wear. My cheeks, which used to be thin like malnutrition, are now better!
I stopped biting the at after hearing the praise from the uncle. "Well, I guess that’s how it is."
A few monts later, the at that was initially still around my mouth, began to be lowered near my thighs. "... But from all my efforts, Uncle. If, for example, I had never t you... maybe I wouldn’t be able to beco like this..."
"So... yeah. I personally want to thank you, who has always given such delicious roasted at...!" I said. A wide smile adorned my face.
After I said those few sentences, the uncle’s eyes instantly widened. He seed very surprised by my words of thanks.
For a mont he was like a statue, which finally made uncomfortable with that.
"Um... Uncle El?"
He was startled. Conscious.
"Ah... yes. Sorry, Uncle was daydreaming for a mont," he said, while rubbing his face.
After the movent he made, his hand was imdiately placed around his chin. His eyes narrowed, observing in front of him.
"... Hey kid."
Hm?
"Do you know that, actually all this ti—"
Knock! Knock! Knock!
There was a knock. Clear and round.
"Who is it?!" the uncle shouted.
"It’s !" replied the person outside the door.
"Oh, it’s you. Wait a minute, I’ll go there!"
The uncle imdiately jumped from his chair. He stepped his feet slowly, getting further away from .
The stone floor sounded loudly, following his moving steps. A few monts after arriving in front of the dieval-style wooden door, he pulled the door handle that was like a curtain ring.
From here, I saw the uncle stop in front of a half-open door. Behind it was soone. His face was cut off by the door leaf.
The uncle’s tone of voice was low. Serious.
"Oh dear... why did Uncle have to be cut off when he was talking."
Several minutes passed. The uncle was still there. Occasionally he was silent. Occasionally his eyes widened, as if receiving so unexpected information.
Then not long after, the person behind the door left.
The door was closed.
The creak echoed for a mont before returning to silence.
The uncle turned around. His gaze imdiately found , sharp—like finding a needle in a haystack.
His steps were light, but sure. Before finally stopping right in front of .
His mouth opened slightly. Then closed again.
"Candidate...," he muttered softly. "Suitable though... but later if..."
He was silent. His finger pressed his chin.
I was uncomfortable with the feeling of silence he left behind.
I tried to pretend to shift sothing in front, as if there was a chessboard between us.
"Uncle... I’ve moved the pawn in front of the castle, you know..."
The uncle was startled. "What?! You’re underestimating , huh—?"
He fell silent in the middle of the sentence.
His expression changed. Like he just realized where he was.
I chuckled.
A few seconds passed before his breath sounded rough.
"Hey, kid... I think I’ve spoiled you far too much," he said, clenching his fist and lifting it to eye level.
I stared at him blankly. "Eh...?"
His fist moved before I could react.
Thud.
The impact landed squarely on the top of my head. Pain flared instantly.
"...That hurts."
My legs gave out, and I collapsed onto the floor, clutching my head. I rolled once, then twice, before the pain slowly dulled.
"...I’m fed up."
Tears gathered at the corners of my eyes.
Damn it.
Behind the bars, Uncle El watched in silence. His eyes were closed, a faint smirk forming.
"So?" he said calmly. "Want another one?"
My eyes widened. "F-Forgive , Uncle... I won’t do it again."
As if I’d ever want that.
He exhaled slowly, then opened his eyes and stared straight at .
"...Hey, kid. Don’t lie. I know you’re not in pain anymore."
Cold sweat broke out across my back.
Before I could think of a response, I acted.
"Uhuk—uhuk! I’m dying...!" I coughed loudly, rolling away from him. "Father... I’m coming to see you...!"
I kept rolling until I stopped, curled up with my back facing him—just out of reach.
Veins bulged on his forehead.
"Three seconds," he growled. "Co back here. Or your grave will be inside that cage."
My breath caught.
"O... one."
My mind went blank.
"Two."
I clenched my teeth.
"Th—"
"UNCLE! FORGIVE !"
I scrambled forward and slamd my forehead to the ground in front of him.
Whispers spread among the other slaves.
"Isn’t he the one who shares at?"
"What’s he doing?"
"...Is that a guard?"
"Is he starting a new religion?"
I shut my eyes.
’What am I even doing...?’
Silence followed.
Then—
"Stand up."
I froze.
"Stand up. Now."
I obeyed.
When I finally stood before him, his expression was unreadable—anger, irritation, and sothing darker mixed together.
I closed my eyes and clenched my fists. "Go ahead. I’m ready."
His hand dropped.
I blinked.
"...Eh?"
It didn’t hurt.
I opened my eyes slowly. His finger rested lightly against my head.
He pulled his hand back.
"...Because of that stunt, I can release you more comfortably now," he said flatly. "You’ve given an excuse."
My breath caught.
Release?
"...I don’t have much ti left," he continued. "The boss has summoned ."
He turned away and walked off.
At the door, he paused.
"...See you later, kid."
The door closed behind him.
Silence returned.
I lowered my head.
Damn it... I never even apologized properly.
***
The room was spacious and perfectly square, its symtry making the distance between its occupants feel deliberate.
A large-bellied man sat casually behind a desk, his fingers interlocked, as if nothing in the world could hurry him.
In front of him stood another man, posture straight, arms at his sides, eyes fixed forward.
The room itself was modest. A few abstract statues lined the walls. A mounted deer head hung above the desk. Sunlight filtered through two distant windows behind the chair, casting long silhouettes across the floor.
"So," the seated man said lazily, "have you found a suitable candidate to fill that vacancy, Head of Selection?"
A grin curled beneath his thick brown mustache.
"Or should I say... Head El?"
The standing man—Uncle El—lowered his gaze slightly.
"...Yes, Boss," he replied. "I’ve found soone suitable."
The boss studied him longer than necessary. Sothing felt off.
"...You look like soone who just got dumped," he said.
Head El’s eyes widened.
"...No. And since when did I even have—"
He paused, then narrowed his eyes. "You’re mocking ."
The boss burst into laughter, covering his face with his hands.
"When have I ever mocked you?" he said between breaths.
Head El remained silent. His jaw tightened, then relaxed.
For a mont, mories surfaced—of a troubleso brat behind iron bars.
He bit his lower lip unconsciously.
The boss noticed.
"...Ahem. My apologies," he said, clearing his throat. "Tell about him. The one you chose."
Head El hesitated, then spoke.
He explained everything—strengths, flaws, physique, intellect, ntal resilience.
When he finished, the room fell quiet.
"Hm."
The boss leaned back, fingers tapping his chin.
Then he laughed.
"HAHAHA... EXTRAORDINARY!"
He slapped his stomach, delighted.
"To think you’d find soone like that..."
"...Even he hinted he wasn’t ordinary," Head El added quietly.
"Oh?!" The boss laughed again. "That makes it even better!"
He wiped the corner of his eye.
"...Alright, Head El. I approve your candidate."
He smiled thinly.
"He will fill the final slot tomorrow."
"And make sure," he added, eyes gleaming, "he’s priced appropriately.
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