Slave
Even modern cars rattle when driving on unpaved stone roads. So how much worse would it be for a wagon that’s nothing more than wheels attached to wooden boards?
The heavy wooden wagon shook violently with every step the horse took. His brain felt like it was being rung like a bell, and his entire body—even his bones—rattled endlessly.
Because of that, even though he hadn’t had a single sip of water since arriving in this strange place, Kim Juhwan kept vomiting. Eventually, nothing came out anymore, yet he continued to retch.
Unable to endure the suffering any longer, he pushed past the others and made his way toward the edge. As he dragged his body forward, a small scuffle broke out with the people around him.
The edge was colder than the center, but at least he could stretch his legs a little. No one was willing to give up their spot.
As he forced his way in, one man struck Kim Juhwan in the face with his elbow.
He reacted instinctively and tried to dodge, but his weakened body couldn’t fully avoid it. The man’s elbow slammed hard into his forehead, and for a moment, his vision went black.
But back in high school, he had fought almost daily. He was used to fighting.
Kim Juhwan grabbed the man’s arm as it fell away from him.
Twisting it behind the man’s back, he forced his upper body down onto the floor.
The man’s cheek was pressed against the wagon floor, and he could only open and close his mouth soundlessly. If Kim Juhwan applied a little more force, the arm would snap. The man, terrified, could only gasp for breath.
The others who had tried to block him froze in shock at the sight. They shrank back, carefully avoiding him.
No matter where you go, the world of men is the same. Once they realize someone is stronger, they don’t dare challenge him recklessly.
Kim Juhwan shoved through them and reached the edge. Turning his face away from the others toward the outside, cold air rushed into his lungs. Freed from the rotten stench, he could finally breathe.
The convoy traveled for a long time, stopping occasionally to rest before moving again. It was cold and exhausting.
All he could do was endure the constant shaking of the wagon, so he had no sense of how much time had passed. The overcrowded wagon continued to rattle along the winter road.
Time passed with the biting wind. The sun was still high, but the air was steadily growing colder. Winter days were short. Night would probably fall soon.
Even now, it was freezing—how much worse would it be at night? His body trembled at the thought.
When the sky turned red, the convoy finally stopped.
The soldiers quickly set up tents and lit fires here and there. Large cauldrons were hung over the flames. They brought water from somewhere and poured it in, then added various ingredients.
Kim Juhwan stared blankly as the soldiers worked. Though his wagon was some distance away, the savory smell drifted over to him.
His stomach growled loudly. But nothing was given to the people in the wagon while the soldiers finished their meal.
Only after a long while did the soldiers bring in a slightly large wooden barrel and a few ladle-like bowls.
Inside the barrel was something like thin porridge. It was clearly different from what the soldiers had eaten. It even gave off a strange, possibly spoiled smell.
He was hungry, but he didn’t feel like eating it.
However, the other men in the wagon rushed toward the barrel greedily.
With only a few bowls available, some fought to grab them first, while others scooped food with their bare hands. Those at the back struggled desperately just to get closer. In an instant, chaos broke out inside the wagon.
The barrel was emptied almost immediately. There simply wasn’t enough food for everyone.
Afterward, a few soldiers went around collecting the barrel and bowls from each wagon.
After some time, the soldiers pulled down a thick sheet that had been rolled up on top of the wagon. The ragged, worn cloth covered it completely, and the surroundings fell silent.
But it wasn’t ordinary cloth. It seemed more like treated leather. There were no gaps at all. Its surface was rough, like a thick plastic sheet.
Thanks to the covering, the cold lessened—but so did the air. Without fresh air, the wagon quickly filled with a suffocating stench.
The foul smell and thin air brought a terrifying thought—he might suffocate to death at any moment.
Kim Juhwan lay flat on the floor, pressing himself against the edge to get even a little more air.
With his nose toward the narrow gap between the cover and the wagon, he tried to breathe as slowly as possible.
Slowly… slowly… it’s okay. This isn’t completely sealed. Air is still coming in, even if only a little. Don’t panic. I’m not afraid.
He suppressed the rising fear. He couldn’t afford to panic. If he did, the fear of dying would grow stronger, and he would unconsciously try to gulp in more air—only to spiral into madness from suffocation.
He continued taking shallow breaths. The thought that he might never wake up if he fell asleep came over him again and again.
In the pitch darkness, he forced his eyes open—but it made no difference. Whether open or closed, it was the same darkness. Eventually, he couldn’t even tell the difference anymore. His mind became disoriented.
How had things come to this?
Did he really have to go on living like this?
He suddenly thought that.
He had no family. His parents had died in an accident when he was in middle school, and since then, he had been alone. He had dated before, but nothing ever lasted long.
Every time he returned to his dark home and turned on the lights, he was reminded of just how lonely he was among so many people.
Still, he had lived diligently. He had held his head high, putting on a brave front in a lonely world. But in truth, he was exhausted. Every night before sleep, he thought of his parents—but now, he could barely remember their faces. Even his memories had grown lonely.
Father… Mother…
Do I really have to keep living, even after ending up in a place like this?
Do I have to?
I don’t want to. I want to stop now.
If he had been cast out of his familiar world and left alone in a place like this… maybe now, finally, he could stop trying.
That’s what he thought—but his body betrayed him.
I want to live.
I need air.
His breathing grew faster as he desperately tried to draw in what little air there was.
As his consciousness began to fade, Santa’s voice echoed faintly in his head:
Be happy!
Happy? What nonsense. This world or any other—damn it all.
That night, he endured the constant terror of death. It was worse than the cold.
Only when morning came and the cover was lifted did he finally feel that he was still alive.
The same ordeal continued for two more days.
Every night, he wondered if this would be the one where he died. But human life is stubborn. He didn’t die.
Eventually, even the thought of wanting to die disappeared.
He just wished the pain would stop.
On the third day, the wagon carrying Kim Juhwan arrived at a shabby-looking rural village. It was around noon, with the sun high in the sky.
It was the first village he had seen in this world.
So ordinary people live here too…
For some reason, the thought felt strange.
Clinging to the wooden bars of the wagon, Kim Juhwan looked out at the quiet countryside.
Perhaps to keep out animals or bandits, a stone wall about the height of a person stretched across the frozen fields.
But it didn’t look like it could stop much. Parts of it had crumbled, leaving gaps. It didn’t even surround the entire village.
As the soldiers led the wagons inside, a few men came running from the quiet streets beyond.
Kim Juhwan watched them through the bars.
An elderly man and several middle-aged villagers bowed repeatedly to the soldiers.
The old man seemed to hold the highest status. His clothes were the cleanest, and he was the one speaking with the soldiers’ leader. Perhaps he was the village chief.
When the leader said something, one of the villagers hurried off into the village.
Meanwhile, the soldiers moved the wagons further inside.
The land was wide, but the village itself was small. The houses stood close together, and in what seemed to be the central square, there was a stone well.
Seeing the well made him suddenly thirsty. The others in the wagon seemed to feel the same, swallowing dryly.
But no one spoke. The wagon remained silent. Kim Juhwan also kept his mouth shut, watching carefully.
He must not stand out.
Before entering the village, he had seen a man from another wagon speak to a soldier—only to be beaten. The man’s eye had burst, blood pouring out.
The soldiers didn’t care whether the people in the wagons lived or died. To them, they probably weren’t even worth a single coin. Human dignity clearly meant nothing here.
How had he ended up like this?
A small sigh escaped his dry lips.
After a while, villagers brought several barrels of alcohol. Behind them, a few women carried baskets of food.
The soldiers grew noisy.
Barrels and wooden cups were placed on a small table near the well, and the women set down the food baskets.
The leader and several soldiers drank while speaking to the women. Even without understanding the language, their tone and gaze made their intentions clear.
It seemed the soldiers wouldn’t be leaving this village anytime soon.
“….”
Why had they come here?
Was it just a stop along the way—or did they have a purpose?
A sense of unease crept into his mind.
The village chief spoke obsequiously to the leader, who glanced toward the village women. The women lowered their heads, pale-faced.
The chief nodded vigorously, smiling submissively, bowing again and again.
Then, he discreetly handed the leader a small pouch. Judging by its weight, it likely contained coins—gold or silver.
The leader peeked inside the pouch and then shouted something to the soldiers.
“#### #####.”
Several soldiers approached another wagon and opened its door.
That wagon held the most people—nearly twice as many as the others, perhaps forty to fifty. Some didn’t even have space to sit and were hunched over on top of others.
Under the soldiers’ urging, the men inside began to come out. Anyone who moved too slowly was struck or stabbed with the blunt end of a spear.
Just as Kim Juhwan had guessed, they were either criminals or slaves. All of them wore shackles on their ankles.
From the situation, they seemed more like slaves than prisoners.
What would happen to him?
Even without shackles, would he be treated the same?
If only he had been dropped somewhere else—maybe he would have had another chance. But it seemed that unlucky people remained unlucky no matter the situation.
Without realizing it, Kim Juhwan clenched his fists.
With the clinking of chains, the slaves gathered outside the wagon. The village chief and the men approached them.
Standing before them, they began inspecting each one.
They forced their mouths open, checked inside, and examined their shoulders, arms, and waists. They looked from front to back, made them sit, even turn around.
It was exactly like selecting livestock.
After choosing about twenty slaves, the villagers handed them over to the soldiers’ leader.
A soldier brought a thick bundle of papers to the table where the leader sat.
What were they planning to do?
Whatever happened next…
it would soon be Kim Juhwan’s fate as well.
Holding his breath, he watched quietly through the wooden bars.
