The Dialectic of Master and Slave - Chapter 248

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.

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“Isn’t that just wordplay?”

The cat-faced student retorted sharply.

“A master is a master, and a slave is a slave—how can a slave become a master and vice versa?”

“Hmm. I’m not sure either—I just heard it from a professor long ago.”

As Jaha gave an awkward smile in defense, the girl’s initially skeptical expression softened slightly.

“Well, I have read a romance novel with a similar plot. The male lead was utterly devoted to the female lead, doing everything for her, until she became practically helpless without him—like a fool with a ring through her nose. To outsiders, the man seemed like her slave, but in reality, she was the one mentally enslaved to him.”

“Really?”

“But that’s fiction. Reality’s different. How can you, a grown adult, fall for such scammy talk? Shouldn’t you know better at your age?”

Under the student’s pitying gaze, Jaha forced a sheepish laugh.

“N-No, he wasn’t a scammer—I probably just explained it poorly. He was actually a famous philosopher where I’m from…”

“If it’s not the Empire, who cares about some small-country celebrity?”

Jaha gave up arguing. There was no point—she couldn’t exactly bring up Earth, and it’d only make things messier.

Misreading her silence, the student hesitantly added:

“I didn’t mean to disrespect your homeland. If I upset you, I’m sorry.”

How could I stay mad at this kid? Jaha lightly ruffled the girl’s hair and picked up her book.

“Shall we finish the lesson?”

To crave a cigarette I’ve never even smoked—what a strange thing.

I’ve lived my entire life as a non-smoker. I detest the smell of cigarettes. Yet, despite never having tasted it and despite its scent being far from my preference, it would sometimes abruptly surface in Jaha’s mind. She imagined, like a scene from a movie, putting a cigarette between her lips and deftly lighting it. Even the image of exhaling smoke dryly.

It was as absurd a delusion as vowing to flawlessly perform ‘Moonlight Sonata’ despite never having touched a piano.

If she actually tried smoking, she’d probably tremble in fear while fumbling with a lighter for the first time in her life. The moment she inhaled even a single puff, she’d likely cough violently, eyes watering, looking utterly pathetic. Just the smell of someone else’s smoke made her feel like her lungs were rotting from the toxins.

Yeah, I shouldn’t start.

Jaha averted her gaze from the tobacco pipes displayed beyond the glass window.

It’s bad for my health anyway—better not to buy one. No point trying it only to get addicted and struggle to quit later. The suffocating tightness in her chest? She just had to try her best not to dwell on it. There was no guarantee cigarettes would even relieve it in the first place. This was merely a misguided longing, learned through mass media.

Turning her back on the tobacco shop, Jaha fled the spot as if running away.

Teaching children wasn’t particularly difficult. In this world where gender distinctions were rigid, Jaha’s students were, of course, limited to girls—and the so-called ‘education’ provided to them was so rudimentary that even calling it ‘education’ felt excessive.

It was a sad truth, but an elementary schooler from Korea would likely surpass the academic knowledge of an ordinary noblewoman who had lived decades in this world. A world where countless noblewomen could speak but not read or write, nor properly perform basic arithmetic.

Why else would Count Palga, upon hearing Jaha could do math when she first arrived in this world, have asked her to add two three-digit numbers?

‘Honestly, I thought he’d give me a problem with at least one unknown variable x—not calculus-level, but still.’

Anyway, that was the kind of world this was. A world where parents would tell her to ‘just read them some books and leave’ because girls becoming too smart was ‘troublesome.’ Sometimes, Jaha wasn’t even sure if she was a tutor or just a glorified reading companion for the children.

Well, for the kids who showed academic curiosity, she secretly lured them into learning letters. To one girl particularly interested in math, she even taught division with fractions. If the parents—who had only requested addition and subtraction—found out, they’d probably clutch their necks and collapse in shock.

If caught, rumors would spread that she was a tutor who taught ‘unnecessary’ things, and she’d lose her job. But the idea of being deprived of even the most basic education solely for being born female was so absurd that, no matter how she thought about it, she couldn’t accept it…

Jaha knew it too. That her actions were nothing more than self-justification—or even self-indulgence. Despite having neither the power nor the courage to truly change this world.