That Time I Got Sent to Another World Where All of the Girls Are Super Hot and Super Into Me Because I Am Super Strong and Have Very Powerful Abilities that God Gave to Me Because Me and Them Were Friends When I Was in Grade School and God Is Actually A Loli Who is Also in Love with Me Because I Am A Super Epic Person Who Will Defeat The Demon Lord Who Threatens The Entire World but the Demon Lord Actually is in Love With Me and the Demon Lord is a Super Hot Busty Babe Who is Actually Just Trying to Get My Attention Because I Have a Cellphone That Can Contact the Internet and Can Get Anything Shipped To Me Within 2 Days But I Barely Need It Because I Am Actually the Most Strongest Guy Alive Because I Have Super Strong Powers Like Being Able to Lift Your Mom Really Easily Which is Nearly Impossible Because Your Mom is So Fat But is Actually A Secret Anime Busty Babe Who is Really into Me Because I Am Super Cool and Better Than Your Dad Because He is Super Lame Which I Am Not:

Freedom (1-14): That time I was reincarnated into another world and ended Slavery, probably

Dick Bastardly stepped back in fear as I chuckled to myself.

"Slavery is bad and wrong!" I declared, out loud. "So bad and wrong that I wish there was some word to describe it!"

I waved my hand in a pointless but heroically defiant way.

"I can't call myself a hero if I just let you keep all these slaves! So I'm going to make sure you can't hurt these poor people ever again!"

"How," he rasped, "Do you plan on doing that?"

I reached behind me and activated one of my Skills, whipping my hand out towards the [Slave Tycoon], who reared back in fear as the bag of money landed at his feet.

"Heh..." I snickered, "Let's see how long your business can stay afloat if all of your slaves are gone.

He stared down at the money, a cold sweat forming on his brow and immediately turning to steam.

"T-that... there's no way you could possible afford all of our slaves. Y-you're bluffing."

"Am I?" I asked, mostly in a rhetorical, taunting way, but also because now I wasn't entirely sure myself. Just to be safe, I threw another ten bags of gold at his feet. I was rewarded with the sight of him going pale.

"N-no..." he gasped. "If you buy all the slaves, then... I won't have any more slaves to sell. I have contracts to fulfill, I can't..."

I walked up to him and gently slapped him across the face with a wad of million-dollar bills.

"Feel the cold hand of defeat!" I shouted, shoving him over and dropping several bars of gold bullion into his lap.

"N-nooooooooooooo!" he shouted in defeat, dying instantly. I grinned a smile and turned to give Wanda a thumbs up. She wouldn't have to worry about the other slaves anymore. They'd be safe now.

I walked outside as all the cages opened, and the [Slaves] began stampeding out the door, leaving Dick Bastardly counting his money while crying and wiping his tear with million-dollar bills. Feeling extremely self-satisfied, I spotted Laura, who was smoking and waiting for the horse-taxi she had called.

"Sorry about your job," I told her. "I can't see Thrall*Mart ever financially recovering from this. Still, now you are free to find a new job that isn't evil, like tax collection or stock trading."

Laura shrugged, looking back at the Thrall*Mart, which now had a giant "Closed Forever" sign on it, automatically.

I watched the slaves continue to pour out and run, shouting into the city, and nodded, smug in my own generosity. Still, that was an awful lot of slaves, wasn't it? I wondered how there could be so many slaves, especially in a city this size.

"Say, where do slaves come from?" I asked. "And don't say sex, that was already debunked by an independent fact-checker."

Laura blew out a cool ring of smoke, then a cool arrow of smoke, then a cool smoke cloud in the shape of a dog, who kicked the arrow through the ring. I was impressed, but less impressed because I could do that too, if I wanted to and had practiced for an equal amount of time. I quietly used my [Instantly Learn Skill] skill to learn [Smoke Ring Basics].

"Uh, I dunno. I guess most of them are like, criminals? Or people who got too deep in debt? They usually give them a choice between prison or slavery. Or if the prison gets full, they ship the extras to us. Or if they're like, enemy soldiers or war criminals, they get made into slaves."

She scratched the back of her head. "Sometimes we get a lot of demi-humans sold by slave wranglers, and I'm not sure what their deal is, but they're at least grass-fed and free-range, so it's probably humanely sourced?"

I nodded to myself, watching the thousands of [Slaves] enjoying their newfound freedom in the city, with no oversight or support network. I was glad to help them get a new lease on life, felons or otherwise. I'd done a good deed.

I turned to look at Wanda, who had snatched a full rotisserie chicken from a cart and was munching down on it. How had she become a slave? I wanted to ask, but I also thought that, well... She was a demi-human, specifically an Animal-Ears-Folk-Person (Dog), so, maybe it might stir up traumatic memories. It's possible that somebody did a racism and captured her family illegally, or maybe she was the last survivor of some kind of raid or something like that. It was possible that my asking might make her relive her horrifying experiences, but I was also pretty curious at the same time.

"Wanda..." I asked. She looked up at me, her cheeks bulging with purloined poultry. "How did you become a slave?"

She gulped the chicken down and distended her jaw to eat the rest of the bird entirely, before looking at me kindly, as if trying to find the words to begin her probably long story of discrimination, crime, and pain.

"Wan! I killed a guy, wan-wan!"

"Okay," I replied. "Cool."

I looked around the cool kick-ass Isekai Fantasy RPG starter town and nodded to myself. It was already sunset and the sun was setting, making the sky less blue and more other colors. The town was bustling and hustling around me but starting to calm down, the sounds of labor giving way to the sounds of crickets and cooking and the distant screams and sounds of violence.

The [Slaves] I had freed were enjoying their newfound freedom, frolicking about and whatnot, but... there was still Wanda. Would it be hypocritical of me to keep her as a [Slave] after I went and soapboxed earlier?

I shook my head. No way. I was special. But... did I want to have to explain that to everybody I met who might try to lecture me about human rights or other dumb bullshit like that?

"Wanda..." I said, taking a deep breath. "Do you want me to free you, too?"

I was shaking in my cool adventurer boots as she thought about it. If she said yes and I let her go, then... would she even stick around? If she left the party, I would be all on my own again, adrift in an unforgiving kickass gamelike world with only my unfathomable personal power to protect me. And, even if she stayed, I was super intimidated by the thought of interacting with a girl I didn't have direct and total authority over. What if she thought I was g-g-gross or something? I gulped, and time restarted after my long-winded internal monologue that I summarized the nascent points of above.

"I already made clear my position on the distorted and abstract notion of 'freedom'," she explained, "and traveling with you serves to further my own personal goals. The world is cruel to the lone soul adrift. While I can't see you being a particularly worthwhile conversationalist, nor a competent leader nor strategist, there are few things more respected than raw power, which you have in spades. As much as I am a slave, so too you are a slave to your own limp convictions, so I am sure that you would willingly free me, and continue to support me and my vices despite any lack of ownership or personal responsibility for my wellbeing."

She reached out and grabbed another rotisserie chicken from the cart and took a bite. The cart owner, having held his tongue and looking furious up until now, began to shout, but Wanda continued to talk over him.

"That being said, while you are certainly strong in the sense of combat, and strong in the sense of resilience, and (as was made apparent) strong financially, you are not strong in a way that actually matters. You strike me as weak-willed, malleable, gullible, and cowardly enough that even given direct and total authority over my self and body, I cannot see you ever exerting any such authority. In that sense, it makes little difference to me whether I am freed of my bonds or not. In fact, my bondage is not without a few notable benefits... "

My stomach growled audibly. I was still a little nervous, but between my hunger and nervousness, I hadn't really been able to pay attention to what she was saying. Plus, the [Rotisserie Chicken Stall Owner] was coming over, angrily shaking a rolling pin.

"Hey, you!" he shouted angrily. "You have to pay for that!"

"Ah," I said, "Please forgive her. She's a [Slave], so--"

"No shit," he spat, turning and actually spitting on the ground to the side. I looked down at the spit. Wow, rude. He leveled the rolling pin at me, causing me to panic for a second before I realized it was unloaded.

"I'm talking to you! Your slave stole from me. Three chickens. You gonna pay for those, or what?"

Ah, that made sense. I was a bit relieved that Wanda wasn't in trouble, but also a bit embarrassed.

"I'm gomenasorry," I said, bowing a bit as I handed him a handful of various coins. "It was an accident, probably."

Wanda stared brightly and vacuously at him as he walked back to his stall, mollified. Her tail wagged more energetically as she looked back at me.

"Uh, sorry," I said. "I was a little distracted. Uh, so, about erm, freeing you..."

"Wan!" Wanda barked, "I don't want to! Master is a good master, wan~!"

I chuckled and gave her a headpat. I guess I had nothing to worry about! My stomach rumbled again, suddenly. The smell of those chickens had made me hungry.

"Wanda," I asked, "Are you still hungry? I know you just ate three [Rotisserie Chickens], but..."

"The hunger is never satisfied, wan!" she replied happily.

"Great," I smiled, walking past a couple of ex-slaves upending a jewelry cart. "Let's go get some food!"