5.

There was no room for excuses. Not that he intended to make any.

"You saw my ass, too," he muttered. "We're in the same boat, so let's not make a big deal out of it."

Once they were doused with water, the cloth that barely covered them became useless anyway. Even before that, whenever they moved or turned their backs, he wondered if there was any point in covering up at all.

Most importantly, they were in no position to feel shame. In a situation where even basic human rights were denied, survival should take precedence.

The woman—the princess—seemed to understand this. After glaring at him for a moment, she sighed and turned her head away. Then, she murmured, her voice so soft that only Buja, right beside her, could hear it over the rumbling of the cart.

"Did you confirm it?"

"Huh?"

"You asked to see because you were trying to confirm something, weren't you?"

"Oh. Yeah, well…"

'She knew?' He nodded at her direct question.

"So, what are you going to do now?" she pressed.

It was then that Buja realized the princess was brilliant. Not just brilliant, but calm and level-headed—the very embodiment of the image he had of a princess. Despite a lifetime of luxury, she wasn't letting the fact that a man had seen her naked distract her.

She had been testing him, trying to discern his intentions, and was now asking about his plans. She knew she had no other choice.

"If I were with the Allied Forces, I wouldn't have been captured as a slave," he explained. "If I were a traitor, I would've spoken up immediately. And instead of pathetically asking you to show me, I would have just ripped your clothes off."

"Do you have a plan?"

Somehow, she had escaped the fall of the Empire without being discovered. He didn't know if she'd just been unlucky, captured before she could get away, or caught while disguised as another noble. But based on the first clue, the moment her identity was revealed, she wouldn't be sold—she'd be killed.

He finally understood why her eyes had remained so sharp, even in this hellish situation. Survival was the same goal every player had. He didn't know if she harbored a grand dream of rebuilding her empire, but he could see her resolve not to lose everything so futilely.

Her question was filled with desperation, and Buja answered her with brutal honesty.

"Not really, no."

He said it confidently. Truthfully.

Silence descended upon the cart.

* * *

In truth, after assessing the stats of the knights disguised as slave traders, Buja had shelved any thoughts of escape. He didn't need to kill them all, just slip away unnoticed. And since the mission required him to be "with the princess," he had considered any escape plan a pointless exercise until he'd found her.

That was why he had answered her so plainly. Only now did he truly begin to think.

'Can we actually escape?'

There were two options: escape on the road, or escape from the castle where the slave auction would take place. The former had a higher chance of success. Both were dangerous, but the latter would mean evading not only the traders but also the bribed castle guards.

Hiding inside the castle was out of the question, as the auction would surely be held outside the fallen Empire. It was safest to assume everyone was an enemy.

On the other hand, escaping from a deserted area like this meant they only had to deal with the slave traders.

"Hmm."

He carefully weighed the possibilities. While the second option seemed less likely, if they could find a way to disguise themselves, the pros and cons were arguably similar.

'They don't know our faces perfectly, at least.'

The princess was so striking that she might be recognized. But if she cleaned up and wore a disguise, she might evade notice from anyone other than the traders. If they could just get out of the castle, it would be a success. The problem was getting there.

Conversely, the first option was simple. Time it right in the dead of night when their captors were vulnerable, create a diversion, and run. It was so simple that the thought of just making a break for it had crossed his mind more than thirty times the previous night.

The main obstacle was the restraining bracelet with its magic-suppression function. Since Buja had never used magic after his awakening, he didn't feel particularly restrained. His physical abilities weren't so poor that escape was impossible, but carrying baggage was another matter entirely.

Above all, the slave traders themselves were a major variable. The fact that they let the slaves roam freely while they slept spoke volumes of their confidence. They believed that even if the slaves used magic to run, they could close a gap of several hours with ease.

Targeting that overconfidence was the wisest and most promising path. In their minds, Kim Buja was just another ordinary noble.

He glanced at the princess. "You're the princess of the Empire. I assume you've kept up with physical training since you were young, right?"

She nodded. Her firm skin was proof enough, but he needed to be certain.

"Then eat this."

Two days. That was how long he'd been dragged to this unknown place and forced into slavery for the Gold Mission. He decided to stop wasting time and start preparing to clear the mission.

"What is this?"

"A chocolate bar. For energy. You've been eating slop for a while, so you probably don't have the strength to run. Charge up now. I'll give you one every hour."

While the other two female slaves slept, he unwrapped the chocolate bar with his hands tied behind his back and offered it to the princess, his back turned toward her. It was an awkward, unavoidable posture.

The princess sighed, then leaned toward his immobile hands and took a bite.

"Just so you know, I didn't show you my ass on purpose," he grumbled. "I'm not that much of a pervert."

He didn't know why he felt the need to make excuses, but his aggrieved lament was lost on her.

Having tasted for the first time the chewy blend of sweet chocolate and nutty almonds, the princess seemed to forget all about their awkward posture and took another bite.

One bite. Two bites. The chocolate bar was gone in an instant.

"Haah. What am I even doing?" Buja shook his head, turning slightly to feel the full absurdity of their position. It was a moment that made him miss Seora.

* * *

6.

The moment he decided on the escape, Buja made his move.

"I know how to cook a little"

"What? You wanna die?" one of the traders sneered.

"I learned to cook with magic," Buja said, his expression dead serious as he spouted the nonsense. "If I have enough ingredients, I can prepare a quality meal for you."

Naturally, a foot came flying his way.

But at the next meal, as the other slaves went to gather firewood, Buja was called over.

"Give it a try."

It wasn't luck. He had seen them subsisting on bread and soup during the long journey from the Empire, so he was confident his offer would be accepted. Enduring the fatigue of wearing armor and riding all day on such meager rations had to be taking its toll on the knights.

"May I use these?"

"Go ahead."

He didn't prepare a feast right away. No matter how ridiculous his "ability" was, it was better not to arouse suspicion. Pointing to the bread prepared for dinner, he put on an exaggerated show and opened the Gold Shop.

To them, it had to look like he was creating never-before-seen dishes using the bread as a medium. Of course, since the food was purchased with gold, the bread wouldn't actually be used.

So he stomped on it.

"That bastard!"

"He's asking for it!"

A few of them flew into a rage at the sight of him crushing their meal, but the one in charge held them back. In the meantime, Buja presented his creation.

"It's ready."

There were fewer than ten traders. For them, he had prepared hamburgers, french fries, and cola worth about twenty gold. He could have wowed them with something more extravagant, but this was to add a sliver of plausibility to the absurd claim of making it from bread.

Besides, he was confident. 'There's no way they won't like it.'

They were hamburgers, a food that had captivated billions and become a staple in entire countries. Still, just in case, he took a small step back. He had no desire to get kicked while being asked what this strange new taste was.

"Oh!"

"What is this?"

Fortunately, even in a different world, a hamburger was still a hamburger. The slave traders marveled at the taste—the sweetness of the 'bulgogi' sauce, the crisp lettuce, the soft tomato, and the juicy beef patty soaking into the bun.

"And try a sip of this cola, made using the soup as a base," he said, flashing a full-blown capitalist smile as he promoted the carbonated drink.

Having gained their trust with the hamburgers, the traders took a sip as he suggested, their mouths still full of bread.

"Wow."

"Ha!"

They all gasped in admiration at the strange, satisfying taste—a mix of cool, sharp carbonation and pure sweetness.

'Just as I thought.' It wasn't just the flavor; this was a guaranteed hit for men who hadn't had a proper meal since the war began.

"I'm not asking for anything in return," Buja said smoothly. "If you'll just let me travel safely until we arrive, I will use every secret technique I know to take care of your meals."

There was no reply, but there was no refusal either. He carefully returned to the other slaves. If he had his way, he would have grabbed a hamburger for himself and eaten with them, but there was no way these bastards, who treated slaves worse than stray dogs, would tolerate sharing a meal. For now, he was satisfied with just setting the stage.

From then on, it was smooth sailing. The cart, which used to stop once a day to make camp, now stopped twice, and Buja was summoned each time to cook.

There was only one problem. 'They're really chowing down… on my gold.' It cost him ten, sometimes up to twenty gold, each time.

"Do you know how much longer until we're sold?" he asked the princess later, handing her a chocolate bar. On top of feeding the traders, he had to keep providing her with calories to restore her strength. If he ran out of gold, the plan would fail before it even began.

"Probably three or four days," she said. "If the auction is held where I think it is."

"The princess of the Empire knows where other countries hold their slave auctions?"

"It's the largest slave auction house on the continent," she mumbled, a hint of bitterness in her voice.

"The continent's largest slave auction house is in another kingdom, not the Empire?"

"That's why the Empire fell."

Somehow, the princess was exactly as he had expected, but the continent's political situation was clearly not. It wasn't his business, though. He finished their strange, awkward mealtime and made a decision.

"We go tomorrow."

The escape. The moment to finish Chapter 1-1 of the Gold Mission was at hand.

* * *

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