Collector’s Cage - Chapter 1

Can humans live like livestock? This question must inevitably be accompanied by another. Even if one could live like livestock, could they still be called human?

Hermie now felt she could answer that. Even if, by some chance, one didn’t go mad, they could not be called human.

A life stripped of desire, instinct, routine, hope, and happiness—that was not a human life. It was a worthless existence, squandering precious resources merely to extend life day by day.

And Hermie was still human. Even if she was being raised like livestock now, she was undoubtedly human.

It was the 63rd day confined to a cage, allowed only to eat, sleep, and excrete.

Hermie still had not given up on living a human life.

She would seduce the mad collector who had imprisoned her here, and escape this damned cage no matter what.

To return to being human. To escape the cage. Hermie vowed to cast aside all her pride and humanity.

At that moment, the door opened and a massive hand lifted the cage. The cage was light, and Hermie inside it was lighter still, swaying unsteadily with the slightest movement.

The one who lifted the cage murmured.

“Are you awake?”

A soft, low bass voice resonated from above. Normally, it would have been a manly voice to make her heart flutter, but she had no room for such feelings now.

Hermie steadied her mind and clung to the bars. Then, with all her might, she cried out. She had to shout loudly for her voice to barely reach him.

“I’ve been waiting! Why did you come so late?”

“Hmm.”

The eyes peering into the cage narrowed into a curve. It seemed he was pleased with Hermie’s coquettish display.

“So cute…”

Incredibly, he was looking at Hermie with happiness.

The arrogant nobleman, infamous for his deep distrust of people, for never keeping anyone close, and for being extremely fastidious—the rare artifact collector known for his cold, ruthless lack of affection. That very Marquis Froy Ozette.

‘I will escape!’

To do that, she had to seduce that damned nobleman who firmly believed Hermie was a fairy. First and foremost, she needed to get out of this cage.

Hermie, a human who had shrunk to the size of a palm due to an unforeseen accident, pursed her lips. She took a deep breath, calming the anger boiling inside her.

“It’s so scary being alone. Please take me out. I want to be close to you!”

Marquis Froy shook his head slightly.

“It’s too dangerous.”

His voice was endlessly affectionate.

“I’ll behave…”

“Not yet… What would I do if you disappeared?”

“No, I won’t! I can’t run away. Look, I don’t even have wings!”

“Even so, no means no.”

Marquis Froy firmly believed the lies of the magician who had sold her to him.

The magician had earnestly advised the Marquis never to open the enchanted cage, as the fairy would escape if he did.

At the end of a weary day, as he looked at Hermie to heal himself, no matter how much Hermie sweet-talked and tempted him, Marquis Froy strictly adhered to the magician’s warning. He loved this fairy far too much, cherished her too deeply, and did not want to lose her.

‘That son of a b***h!!’

From Hermie’s perspective, it was utterly infuriating, enough to make her burst with rage.

If Froy was going to be like this, she had to resort to any means necessary without hesitation. The options available to Hermie, trapped in the cage, were few. All she could do was cling on, cling on, and cling on.

“Because I like you, I won’t leave!”

“…?”

“I like you so, so much that I don’t even think about running away. It’s just that the cage is so stuffy. I just want to be beside you…”

It was her last resort.

“Huh? Please take me out.”

Marquis Froy tilted his head to the side. He seemed a bit taken aback.

***

Hermie was a person who prided herself on having lived a rather good life. She wasn’t bound by convention; she challenged and seized the life she wanted.

Of course, it took many trials and errors to get there.

Hermie was born in a small, narrow, rural village, but she had no intention of living a small, narrow life.

The background for that aspiration was a book given to her as a gift by a traveler. It was a book tossed to her because the traveler found a novel that a village girl knew how to read.

Since books were a luxury item read by the bourgeoisie or nobles, she treasured it like a precious gem.

Hermie read the book every day, growing her dreams through daydreams. Growing up like that, Hermie became an unusual and peculiar child in the village.

Perhaps it was because she considered the village custom of marrying once one’s b*****s swelled and menstruation began to be a harmful practice. Or maybe because she pitied a life spent unable to escape a small village and a small home.

In the house next door, the one after that, and the house across the street, everyone lived that way—only she was different, and a stone that sticks out gets hammered down.

Unable to endure being treated as the odd one out, Hermie ran away from the village, as if escaping. It was the night she threw a tantrum refusing to marry and was beaten by her father.

Venturing out into the world, ignorant of its dangers. Fortunately, Hermie found refuge with a merchant guild.

“What can you possibly do here?”

“I’ll do anything. Laundry, dishes, cooking—I’ll do it all.”

“Now listen here, you think a merchant’s life is easy? A merchant’s life is one where you never know when you might be killed by bandits. It’s not work for a girl, either.”