The Dialectic of Master and Slave - Chapter 218

Volumes 1-4 + Side Stories of DMS are available uncensored on ko-fi! ※ This work contains depictions of coercive relationships, explicit language, and other graphic content. Reader discretion is advised.

Living entirely dependent on others was dangerous—even if that person was family, let alone a stranger. Financial independence was non-negotiable.

A rare crease formed between his impeccably shaped brows. His features were so refined that even this minor expression looked like a work of art, stirring admiration—but the displeasure beneath it was unmistakable.

“Jaha, this place isn’t like where you used to live. Women rarely engage in economic activities here, and there aren’t many jobs available to them.”

The “women” he referred to were the aristocratic class. Peasants who farmed, baked bread, or did menial labor—even the maids serving nearby—didn’t apply.

Moments like these reminded Jaha just how deeply noble he was at his core.

His entire way of life was calibrated to privilege, as if it were the natural order. The fundamental difference between them struck her like a blow to the chest—not quite alienation, but a strange, unbridgeable distance.

“I know. But I still don’t want to just leech off you forever.”

“Even if I told you I wanted you to?”

His eyes, dark and still like a quiet sea, held hers as he pressed again.

“Even if I said I’m happy with you relying on me?”

Jaha studied his shadowed, beautiful face. His gentle demeanor and calm tone were deliberate, an artificial softness.

She hadn’t realized it at first, but at some point, she’d understood: his current self was a carefully crafted result, far removed from his innate nature. His true face was likely the opposite.

‘And that true face… he’ll probably never show it to me.’

A mask never removed might as well be one’s real face. In that sense, his tenderness was as good as genuine. But in moments like these, when their opinions clashed and she outright defied his wishes, a nervous curiosity stirred.

Would his mask slip now?

And if it did—if his true self surfaced—would she be able to handle it?

Wrapped in tense uncertainty, Jaha spoke.

“Yes. Thank you, but I’ll only accept the sentiment.”

She waited. How would he react?

I won’t tolerate being treated like a tyrant just because I try to step out of your control. I’m not your doll or your slave.

Silence stretched between them. Jaha waited patiently for his response.

Eventually, a quiet sigh escaped his lips.

“What kind of work are you thinking of?”

“I’ve thought about it, and if possible, I’d like to do accounting work for a merchant guild or something similar.”

Truthfully, she didn’t have many options. Of all the knowledge she brought from Earth, only basic arithmetic would be useful here.

In novels, protagonists would make Earth’s inventions, set fashion trends, or even captivate people with foreign cuisine to earn fortunes overnight—but Jaha had no confidence in pulling that off. Starting a business required capital and trustworthy people, neither of which just fell from the sky. Besides, attempting a business she’d never even tried on Earth, in a completely unfamiliar world? The mere thought was enough to make her stomach twist.

Fortunately, this world—aside from magic—lagged centuries behind Earth in most aspects. They used a decimal system, and unlike Earth, where education was universal, here it was a privilege reserved for the elite.

Her math skills, unremarkable back home, were actually a decent weapon here. Having learned abacus calculations once, she was faster than most.

‘It’s been so long since I graduated, I barely remember most of it… but thank goodness I chose STEM over humanities.’

She glanced at him, relieved—only to find him wearing an odd expression. It was almost as if he had stumbled upon something long-forgotten yet unchanged, like unexpectedly running into an old friend.

“Are you confident in arithmetic?” he asked before she could probe further.

“More than anything else, at least.”

After skimming through various books, she’d concluded that her skills were roughly on par with an average academy graduate’s—excluding mages, of course.

The more complex the magic, the more advanced the math required. Mages operated on an entirely different level—some could perform twenty-digit calculations across fifty lines in under a minute mentally. That was comparable to an 11th-dan abacus master, who could outpace a calculator.

‘That’s not even human.’

Jaha decided to only consider ordinary humans as her competition.

“Or maybe tutoring?”

Teaching children of well-off commoners seemed feasible. She had some experience with private lessons back home, so handling kids wasn’t entirely unfamiliar.

“Or maybe…”

The man watched with quiet intensity as Jaha excitedly chattered about the work she wanted to do.

Money? He had more than enough. But the thought of her limited time being divided with others—whether guild employees, children, or even other women—over something as trivial as wages twisted his insides. He hated it.

If she was going to sell her time, he’d rather be the one buying it—paying for every minute, every second, until he owned them all. But that wasn’t the answer she wanted.