"Let us speak plainly then. As you are aware, I am a slave trader by profession. Born to parents of the same trade, I have lived a life of luxury since I was a small child.
"However, the general public perceives our work as nothing more than 'buying and selling people for profit.' Personally, I feel it is far more nuanced than that, and I have my share of grievances regarding that reputation... but the fact remains that we deal in human lives. Most people do not view us favorably. For that reason, I grew up without anyone I could truly call a friend. It wasn't so much that the other children disliked me, but rather that their parents forbade the association."
I could easily imagine that. It was the classic "Don't play with that boy" warning from a wary parent.
"At some point, I began to go out of my way to speak with our house servants, my parents' employees, and the slaves. Looking back, I suppose they were mere substitutes for friends my own age. I suspect there was a certain cold calculation involved initially—I assumed that no servant would dare mistreat the son of their employer, and that a slave had no choice but to stay. I used my position to force a connection.
"However, as I interacted with more and more people, I realized that no two individuals were the same. Their races, lineages, origins, and histories were all unique. Their personalities, ways of thinking, and even their smallest preferences varied wildly. Learning about them, feeling those differences, and gaining perspectives I had never considered... it was exhilarating. Somewhere along the way, they stopped being mere substitutes for friends. I found myself genuinely wanting to know the person standing before me."
Having said his piece, Oresto-san fixed me with a serious gaze.
"Through my position as a slave trader, I have met countless people and witnessed a staggering variety of lives. Yet, I feel a profound sense that you, Master Ryoma, are unlike anyone I have ever encountered. That is why I wish to become close to you. It is a matter of pure personal interest. That is one of the reasons I invited you to dine with me today."
If I had to guess, this was undoubtedly because I was originally from another world. For now, I decided it was best not to deny it.
"I'm aware that I'm a bit of an outlier compared to the average person. But if personal interest is only one of your reasons, does that mean there is another?"
Oresto-san nodded with a clear smile.
"I wish to build a stronger cooperative relationship with you. But first, tell me—what is your honest opinion of slave traders, Master Ryoma?"
"If you're asking for my honest thoughts... I'd have to say 'I don't know.' The reality of human trafficking is undeniable, and I can't claim to feel no resistance toward it.
"That said, it is legal under the current laws of this kingdom, and I struggle to see much difference between the treatment of slaves and that of ordinary long-term employees. From what I've seen, they are handled quite fairly. I've also come to understand that the status of a slave serves as a final safety net for those who have lost everything to poverty or misfortune. Because of that, I can't simply label it as good or bad."
"Thank you. That answer was more insightful than I had hoped for."
I had intended to be vague, but Oresto-san's mood visibly brightened.
"Having understanding clients like you makes our work much easier. To be perfectly blunt—and this is a professional grievance—I far too often encounter customers who lack any understanding of the slave system or our trade. Of course, in our industry, we're taught that such prejudice is inevitable as long as we deal in human lives. We tell every newcomer that it's an unavoidable part of the job."
He locked eyes with me before continuing. "But..."
"I have come to believe that the profession of slave trader—and the very institution of slavery—is a relic of a dying age."
It was a striking thought. In my previous life, official slavery was something confined to the pages of history books or fiction. It made sense that as this world modernized, a similar shift would occur.
"As you noted, Master Ryoma, formal slave contracts under the New Slave Law have become remarkably similar to the labor contracts used by guilds. The only real differences now are the owner's obligation to provide for the slave's livelihood and the fact that the equivalent of their wages is paid to the trader in a lump sum upfront.
"The reason the gap has narrowed so much is that the old, cruel laws have faded away. Along with the New Slave Law, the concept of 'human rights' has begun to slowly permeate society."
He spoke with deliberate emphasis.
"Lest there be any misunderstanding, I have no intention of denying the importance of human rights. In fact, I view them positively as a necessary framework for protecting human dignity. But that is precisely why I believe the slave trade is obsolete.
"We only continue to exist today because we serve as a last resort for the desperate to keep themselves alive. Furthermore, the nobles who steer this country are traditionalists who loathe change; they overlook us simply because we are a part of that tradition. However, I believe that in the relatively near future, we will no longer be permitted to deal in slaves. People like me will have nowhere left to go. That is why I am searching for a new way for our trade to exist—one that evolves with the times."
"That reminds me. I heard you've begun a low-cost, temporary 'leasing' service as well."
"Indeed. I knew you would see through it. When I mentioned it previously, you used the phrase 'temporary staffing and brokerage business,' which made me wonder."
"...Did I really say that?"
"You muttered it under your breath while reviewing the documents," he said with a smirk.
Of all the people to let my guard down around, my past self really had to pick him.
"The moment I heard that remark, your value in my eyes skyrocketed. I became convinced that you knew of some specific, concrete model for the future I'm trying to build. Even if you don't, it doesn't matter. I felt certain that you, and perhaps only you, could understand the anxieties I harbor for the future."
Understand his anxieties... Now that he had laid it all out, I thought I finally grasped his position.
The man sitting before me was likely a truly brilliant businessman. Not just "ordinarily gifted," but one of those rare geniuses who could see decades ahead. I didn't know how much effort he had exerted to reach this level, but there was an undeniable, almost cruel gap between a genius and an average person.
Because of his foresight, he could see a future that remained invisible to the masses. To put it simply, he was far too ahead of his time.
"I'm not an expert on your industry, but I assume most other slave traders expect things to remain exactly as they are. You, however, are looking forty or fifty years down the line—to the world your children or grandchildren will inherit."
"Precisely. No matter how much I ponder the future, it remains in the realm of speculation... but I cannot shake the feeling that a precarious world awaits us. We must find a new path while we still have the chance."
"And the logical conclusion you reached was a staffing business."
"I have no particular attachment to the title of 'slave trader.' If I consider how best to utilize the knowledge and experience we've gathered, the most effective path is to educate people to increase their value as human resources and then introduce them to clients in need of their skills."
Using the assets he already had as a slave trader to pivot into staffing was a sound strategy. However...
"Personally, I'd be worried about how those dispatched employees are treated. It's all speculation since we don't know what future laws will look like, but—"
In Japan, amendments to the Staffing Law often left workers in a precarious position. They were either underemployed or ground down for pittance wages. Outsiders would flippantly tell them to "just find a new job" or "become a full-time employee," but the reality of the job market was never that simple.
Once you fell into that negative loop, escaping was nearly impossible. In Japan, misfortune was often dismissed as a "lack of effort" or "personal responsibility"—the fault of the person who chose staffing, even if they had no other choice.
In the end, that was why I had never been able to quit my job as a full-time employee, even at a black company. Though, to be honest, there were plenty of times I thought life might be more relaxed as a temporary staffer.
"—Ooh! I see! That is also—a possibility! Yes! Indeed—"
When I brought up those concerns based on my memories, his reaction was instantaneous. I felt a literal pressure from his intensity as he hung on my every word, determined not to miss a single syllable.
Oresto-san's fascination was so great that even after we finished the meal and dessert, he continued to press me during the carriage ride back to the security company. I spent the entire journey describing everything I knew about staffing employees as "hypothetical possibilities."
Finally, the time came to part ways.
"Ah, today was truly a delight. This is the first time I have been able to discuss these matters so concretely and paint such a clear picture of the future in my mind."
"I'm also glad we could have such a productive talk."
As I stepped out of the carriage in front of the office, Oresto-san spoke with a much calmer demeanor. He was a difficult man to read, but since he had been so helpful to me, I was glad I could return the favor.
"If you are ever in need of assistance, Master Ryoma, please do not hesitate to ask. Whether it concerns slaves or anything else, I will do everything in my power to help."
"Thank you. I'll be sure to do that."
I intended to leave it at a standard farewell, but...
"..."
"?"
For some reason, Oresto-san fell silent, staring at me with a contemplative expression.
"Is something wrong?"
"...Master Ryoma, I say this with the utmost sincerity: I truly wish to continue our relationship. It is because of that sincerity that I find myself wanting to offer a bit of meddlesome advice. Do you remember when I asked if you were having fun lately?"
I certainly did. I hadn't lied to him.
"Yes. I am not doubting your answer. Quite the opposite—it was clear to me that you cherish your current life from the bottom of your soul."
Being told that so directly was a little embarrassing. Still, if it was obvious to an observer that I was happy, it gave me a strange sense of relief.
"People often realize the importance of things only after they've lost them. We tend to neglect the beauty of a mundane routine. But in every word you spoke about your life being enjoyable, I felt a profound tenderness for your current existence. And at the same time, I sensed a deep, underlying fear of losing it."
"Fear?"
"The way you spoke of your daily life... it was like watching someone who had finally obtained a treasure they had spent an eternity craving. Such a person would never want to let go. I get the sense that you are unconsciously trying to be a 'good boy'—doing exactly what the adults expect of you—just to protect that precious routine. Master Ryoma... you seem remarkably happy at the moment, yet you also appear... stifled."
I didn't quite grasp the meaning of his words, and while I was still searching for a response, he smiled.
"Do not trouble yourself over it. Consider it the rambling of an old man and forget I spoke."
With that, he bid me farewell, climbed back into his carriage, and departed.
His emotions had been much closer to the surface today, and his speech had been more direct than usual. But thinking back on it now, I realized I still didn't truly understand that man at all.