...
{3rd Pov}
Karma walked calmly toward his destination, his steps steady though his mind was unusually quiet after everything he had endured. Deep down, he knew he was losing himself. A part of him longed to tear everything apart, to destroy this world and finally die in peace.
Yet he asked himself but what would that make him? Nothing more than another scum of this world, the same hypocrisy he despised and loathed, a man who would justify tormenting others under the guise of his own suffering.
He had once heard that the only difference between a villain and a hero was simple: when bad things happened to the villain, he wanted everyone else to experience the same pain, while the hero sought to protect others from enduring what he had suffered.
Was the villain wrong, or was the hero right?
He couldn’t tell.
People often say it is easy to forgive others for the heinous crimes they commit, but if it were up to him, people like Epstein, Diddy, and other vile criminals would have received only death. How could anyone forgive those who torment others so deeply?
These criminals may be left genuinely traumatized, scarred, and mentally broken, yet these perpetrators continue to commit acts so evil that forgiveness ceases to be an option.
Those who live in fantasies where forgiveness alone makes the world better only end up making it worse. A divine quality such as forgiveness should never be wasted on people like this, individuals capable of inflicting endless suffering upon others. For them, the only path was death, whether it was deemed just or unjust.
Karma wasn’t what you would call justice; it was simply the natural consequence of one’s own actions, and everyone had to bear it. For killing such people, even if his intentions were good, he wished that the Lord would torment his soul, because he was not a god, nor justice, nor a hero. He was only a man, selfish enough to take on this role, because he had nothing else left to do.
He had already lost everything. Even when he longed for death as a release, that too had been taken from him. His death itself was denied. The black, mean eyes of Natsuki Subaru stared forward as Karma walked, already having reached the landmark in the slums. This time, no one tried to attack him. How ironic, how strangely funny.
Yet he feared that one day he might become a monster, like Subaru from those what ifs, who believed themselves justified in whatever action they took. Karma resolved to remember that whether his actions were justified or not was never for him to decide. His morality did not view them as righteous or justified but it only saw them as necessary thing that needed to be done.
Till his last breath, through every torment, he vowed to etch these words onto his filthy soul:
[Oh Lord, may you grant all of us salvation]
…
Karma rubbed the back of his head as he woke, his vision adjusting to the dim light. He was inside a cage, just as he had expected. The slave traders had captured him again. Although this time he had seen them approaching, he still had been unable to resist.
'It makes sense,' he thought, straightening his back.
'After all, if they were weak, how could they capture people and trade them from one city to another, crossing dangerous forests often filled with mabeasts?'
He sighed, realizing he was completely naked save for a rag that barely covered his modesty. The slave traders were indeed professionals at their vile work, stripping him of anything that could be used to escape.
He had to admit, even in the previous loop it had been the same. After enduring torture, he had tried to escape twice, but each attempt had failed and each failure had only resulted in more torment, though that might have been just an excuse for them to torture him more.
“Oi, boss, he’s woken up.”
Karma looked at the scene and felt a déjà vu. These two bastards were here again, standing together just like before.
“So you’re the lowlives who captured me,” Karma said coldly. “Take me out before my family comes and makes this place hell for you.”
The man who was clearly the boss laughed, his amusement quickly twisting into something darker as he licked his lips.
“~Ah, indeed… breaking a stupid dumbfuck like you does wonders,” he giggled creepily, before turning to the other man. “Give me the keys.”
“Eh, boss… but if he gets injured, his price will drop… sigh, fine, take it,” the subordinate muttered in defeat, handing over the key to the cage.
The boss grinned, a sadistic smile spreading across his lips as he unlocked the door. He dragged Karma out roughly, his grip cruel and sadistic, ready to begin torturing him, releasing his sadistic desires to feel superior to what he deemed lowlives.
“I can return by death,” Karma declared loudly.
Almost instantly, blood began dripping from the noses, ears, and mouths of everyone else present in the room. One by one, they collapsed lifelessly, some clattering against their chains as their bodies fell.
He wasted no time with monologues; he simply killed them.
As for the slaves? Karma’s gaze shifted toward the people who had been tortured so gruesomely. Now that he thought about it, every slave in this room bore marks of extensive torment. How were they supposed to be sold in such a state? Were they considered defective products, of low value, discarded after being broken?
'Or perhaps all the tortured ones were kept in this room,' he thought grimly.
Kneeling beside the corpse of the man, he searched and found a set of keys, though he wasn’t sure if they belonged to these cages specifically. Rummaging further through the desk where the other dead man had been seated, Karma discovered more sets of keys, keys upon keys, scattered and piled, as if mocking the countless lives they had locked away.
“Ha—” he muttered, feeling a wave of confusion, yet he still began trying the keys on the cages, even though the slaves inside were already dead. Karma felt ashamed; he knew he was one of the reasons they had perished, that he had contributed to their deaths. But he also knew the truth, he was weak.
Realistically speaking, he was a nobody, and the chances of him gathering a force capable of rescuing them, even if given a month, were painfully low.
The only guarantee, the only power he might possess, was to use the hatred of the Witch of Envy toward him wisely. That was how he had managed to free them from this hell before. Even though they were dead now, he still opened every cage, refusing to leave them locked away. Though he did not deserve it, he asked for their forgiveness and prayed that their souls might ascend to heaven.
As for the slavers? Although he felt like a hypocrite for wishing it, he sincerely hoped they would be boiled in oil or have their limbs chopped off again and again in Hell, suffering endlessly for the torment they had inflicted.
Finally, he grew more serious. He did not know if there were any other people hidden within this place.
Back during his previous loop, he had never seen a third man enter apart from these two, although it was obvious they would have connections, partners who helped them transport these “goods.” The people they dared to call goods, treating human lives as merchandise. But the question remained: was anyone else present here now?
As he explored further, Karma realized there were other two additional chambers filled with cages to hold more slaves. Yet these captives were in far better condition than the ones in the back room.
He bit his lip until blood welled up, the truth dawning on him.
That room had been a test, a cruel trial to determine whether he would be categorized as low value or high value. It was designed either to satisfy that man’s sadism by breaking victims mentally, or to break them physically. Sadly, he had fallen into the latter category.
As he explored the rest of the building, even stepping out into the streets of the slums, he finally understood that there was no one else present at the very least, no one would be here until the time came to transport the captives from this place.
With his guard somewhat relaxed, he returned to the rooms and began freeing the slaves. Secretly, he wished that none among them would attempt to kill him, for the last thing he wanted was to utter the taboo and slaughter innocent people in the room.
Thankfully, they mistook him for a knight who had come to save them, and so they did not try to attack. He decided first to free all of the slaves, and only afterward clear up the misunderstanding. As he gathered both groups of captives into a single room, he counted them carefully there were roughly thirty of them in total.
“Everyone,” Karma began, his voice steady as he looked at them. “I am no knight. They captured me but because I knew forbidden magic… and sadly, my magic was uncontrollable within a certain area. That is why everyone in that room died.”
The slaves quieted down, shocked by his declaration. Yet none of them spoke among themselves since every person here was practically a stranger to the other.
“You see, I come from a faraway place before arriving in Lugunica, and I was surprised to learn that the writing style here is different. I am ashamed to ask this of you, to take advantage of your situation, but if anyone can help me learn the writing style of this nation, I will be grateful.”
Karma bowed deeply with his hands clasped. He knew he had to understand the writing system of this world, and then the prices of goods, if he wished to avoid being randomly scammed or deceived in the future.
Learning common knowledge as much as he could was absolutely necessary even if he wanted to survive.
There was gold coins kept here and there in this base, and Karma had already found three pouches filled with them. He planned to share the coins equally among everyone, though he intended to keep a slightly larger portion for himself.
After all, he did not know how long it would be before the knights caught him. At the very least, they would eventually issue wanted papers for him, and more money would certainly help him survive when that time came.
“Ridiculous,” a voice suddenly muttered, making Karma flinch.
“Sir, I do not know who you are, or how you managed to kill them. But it is true that you have saved our sorry lives. That is why even if you had asked for something more, unless it was to make us your slaves, I would not hesitate to fulfill it.”
The speaker stepped forward. “I am Delia, a dog-human. If you do not dislike my kind, then I will be more than happy to teach you.”
“Really?” Karma’s eyes lit up. In fact, the other slaves were also staring at him strangely, as though he were some peculiar fragment among mankind. This man whoever he truly was had saved them. He was their savior, no matter the circumstances, freeing them from a future that could not even be called a future, but only despair.
Once reduced to slaves, worse than gutter rats, their condition would have been far more wretched than it already was.
If he had been a knight, perhaps he would have asked them to spread word of his deeds. Yet even though he was not, they still felt indebted to him, expecting that they owed him a favor, a very great one, in fact.
But this man acted as though saving them from despair did not entitle him to any repayment, as if their gratitude was unnecessary.
‘How can such a kind man exist?’ many of them thought, growing even more confused as Karma began distributing gold coins among them.
“I know it will take money to return from wherever you were kidnapped,” Karma said with a faint smile. “So take this money and use it to go back to your homes.”
What was wrong with this man? Why did he look so genuinely happy giving away the loot he had obtained rightfully?
In fact, even though more than half of the slaves here came from commoner backgrounds, above gutter rats or slum dwellers they had never witnessed such kindness in their lives.
They were smart enough to understand that heroic acts from knights were usually for fame and power. Even when knights performed their duties correctly, they still expected something in return.
But this man? He looked as though he would be scammed or kidnapped the very moment he was left alone.
And though that was not far from the truth, Karma’s heart remained too soft for his own good. Even now, with his mind fractured and broken, he stubbornly clung to his moral values though in this state, they had become a harsher, more extreme version of what they once were.
“Sir,” another slave called out.
“I think you should keep the gold coins as a reward for saving us,” he said with slight hesitation, staring at the coins resting in his palms. He was a slum rat, and he had never seen such a large amount of money in his entire life.
He knew that even if these were not Royal Gold Coins, as long as he traveled to some small village, he could settle down comfortably with this kind of wealth.
“Yes… I think it isn’t inappropriate for us to take it,” a cat-demi-human woman added, her tail swaying gently as she spoke.
“No,” Karma replied firmly. “I want every one of you to take some amount of money. I am no different from you. I am not some god-sent messiah or savior.” His voice grew quieter, almost bitter. A part of him knew the truth, he was a kind of monster, one willing to kill certain people in this world without hesitation.
‘What others do, what others think about you is not in your hands. All you can do is keep doing your karma,’ he reminded himself, recalling one of the teachings of Lord Krishna.
This was his karma, what he deemed to be right. He did not know if it was truly justified, but even if punishment awaited him, he would rather be punished for doing what he believed was right than live a perfect version of someone else’s ideals.
In the end, they could not make him change his stance, and so they accepted the money with relief. Yet Karma insisted on making a contract with them, binding their word not to reveal anything about him, nor his appearance, to anyone else which was weird and only made them futher confused.
Afterward, he found himself baffled. About thirteen of them chose to stay behind, not leaving with the others, but instead showing a keen desire to help him.
“I do not understand… why are you people still here?” Karma asked, his voice tinged with confusion.
Delia stepped forward, her expression soft yet sorrowful. “Sir… we are either slum rats or people who have nowhere else to go,” she explained with a sad smile. She herself had been captured because she was unable to repay a debt owed to certain people.
“It is just… although you did explain everything to us, we have noticed that you do not even know how to write. And as you said, you were from a faraway or perhaps an isolated place, so you may not know much about Lugunica at all. If you don’t know, then the risk of being captured for slavery is dangerously high,” Delia said with a wry smile. Karma felt a twitch in his eyes.
He knew she was right. He had already paid dearly for his naivety in his previous loops.
“So we want to help you. And I promised to teach you anyway… please, let us do this for you so we can repay our gratitude,” she bowed before him.
Karma was exasperated, though a certain part of him felt strangely giddy. Even if he was a monster, at the very least not everyone would hate him for his actions.
In the end, Karma celebrated in his own way which was by stealing the food left behind by the already dead slave traders. For the first time in over a week, he enjoyed a meal that wasn’t sludge, savoring the taste of something really good.
All while, Reinhardt was dodging kicks from Felt.
Just as Flugel Planned.
To be continued...
[A/N: You should rather live as imperfect versions of yourselves, than live as perfect versions of others- Lord Krishna]