Online Game: I Started with Max Charisma and Caught the Goddess's Eye

A bustling procession set off down the streets of Southwind City.

Altogether, over a hundred guards marched in the group, led by Southwind City's top talent, Luna, with Bronte's personal escort following closely behind. The line of carriages extended all the way to the entrance of the Mages' Association, presenting a truly impressive display.

The spectacle naturally drew many curious eyes, wondering what mission could require such a massive entourage.

Meanwhile, in the Outer District at the Mora family's meat processing plant, an informant hurried back to report the latest movements from the City Lord's estate to the family's patriarch, Andrew.

"They're coming again?" Andrew frowned, believing that he had already obscured enough in the morning to satisfy the City Lord's interest.

It appeared now that they had underestimated Bronte's tenacity.

Shaking his head, Andrew leaned on his silver-handled oak cane, moving towards a hall specially constructed in the deepest part of the factory. He intended to inform Harvis, who would decide how to handle the situation.

In name, Andrew remained the head of the Mora family. But every family member knew that the one truly in charge was that third-generation youth. Harvis had been selected by an influential being, a choice that even inspired envy in Andrew.

Arriving before the grand hall, Andrew passed through layers of guards and entered the magnificently decorated space, a lavishly adorned room with ornate carvings and gold fixtures, resembling a palace in its solemn grandeur.

Without slowing his pace, Andrew continued on to Harvis's private quarters. The luxuriously appointed room was filled with a misty, purple haze that hung in the air like smoke.

Suspended mid-air, a black box with intricate shifting patterns devoured the purple mist as though it were alive, an eerie sight to behold.

On a bed draped with golden-threaded sheets, several bare bodies were entwined, their breaths heavy and labored. Harvis, bare-chested, was engaged in an intimate moment with several women, one of whom was even a distant relative…

Unperturbed by the debauchery, Andrew repeated the message from the informant.

Harvis, his breath ragged, sneered. "Let them come. With that being's abilities… even if they come a hundred times over, they'll find nothing… And besides, Lord Finn is almost in Southwind City…"

"When he arrives, even if they discover something, it will be too late… No one can stop us!"

With those words, Harvis's expression twisted into something monstrous. His movements became increasingly intense and aggressive as the purple lines across his skin darkened into violet-black.

The woman beneath him grimaced in pain, her body marked by those same purple lines, her once-seductive moans now turning into anguished cries.

Waves of purple mist rose from both Harvis and the women. The markings on the black box grew more unsettling, as if gazing at them could awaken the most primal desires within anyone who dared look…

…

The City Lord's convoy drove steadily onward, reaching the Mora family's meat processing plant in the Outer District before long.

To their surprise, someone was already there waiting for them.

"Welcome, Miss Luna and Your Highness, to our humble factory for an inspection!" Harvis, clad in noble robes and accompanied by members of the Mora family, stood at the factory gates with a broad smile, his demeanor radiating servility, like a subordinate greeting his superiors.

Luna felt a bit unsettled by this behavior. That morning, he hadn't shown such courtesy. How had his attitude changed so drastically in a matter of hours?

"Interesting..." Luca's eyes glinted as he picked up on a peculiar aura emanating from Harvis—one strangely similar to the undead energy of his own coffin.

It had been less pronounced earlier, but now he could sense it even with his eyes closed. His own undead magic runes were faintly vibrating in resonance.

Harvis, noticing Luca's stare, flashed a smug grin, his gaze locking onto Luca. "Well, well… So, you're here too?"

The grin was unnervingly exaggerated, making even Fratis feel a chill.

She moved a little closer to Luca, feeling somewhat reassured by his presence. With a shiver, she whispered, "He… he's changed so much in just a few days. It's like he's a different person."

"Perhaps…" Luca murmured, his gaze shifting back without much concern. He didn't know what was bolstering Harvis's confidence, but he was certain that the Mora family wouldn't dare make a move against them.

The last family that incurred Bronte's wrath had already been obliterated, with only their graves remaining as a reminder.

Following Harvis, the group entered the meat processing plant.

The stench of blood hung thick in the air. Across the vast area, crude wooden structures had been erected, where horse-drawn carts came and went, transporting livestock such as chickens, cows, and sheep.

At each factory building, a dozen or so armored guards stood with weapons in hand. Few workers were visible outside, but muffled shouts and calls could be heard from within.

Inside the factory, dim light filtered through, illuminating a large space that reeked of blood, raw meat, and sweat.

A line of slaves, dressed in rough linen clothes and shackled, worked in a state of blank fatigue. Men and women, old and young alike, stood at the workstations wielding butcher knives and various tools, their clothing stained with blood and grease.

Nearby, several overseers wielding whips barked orders, whipping slaves at the slightest lag in movement.

When a slave collapsed under the lashing, writhing on the ground in pain and begging for mercy, the overseers only sneered, taking sadistic pleasure in the display. They'd beat them nearly to death before signaling a few workers to drag the injured away. As to where they were taken, Luca could only guess.

Looking over at Luna and the others, Luca saw the pity in their eyes, though none spoke up.

Only Fratis pressed her lips together tightly, her voice trembling, "These people, they… they…"

As if anticipating her question.

Harvis sneered, "Your Highness, these slaves were all purchased by our family with real silver and gold."

"They are our family's private property, and we have the right to make them do anything we choose. As long as we don't kill them through abuse, even the king himself wouldn't have a word to say."

"Besides, we're already quite humane. At least we feed them bread instead of fodder..."

Hearing this, Fratis fell silent.

Luca, too, shifted his gaze away.

Though he despised Harvis, there was truth in his words. Once slaves were purchased, neither their lives nor their bodies were their own anymore. Ownership belonged solely to the holder of their contract.

Harvis could work these people tirelessly in the factory, and though he enforced discipline with the whip, as long as no one was beaten to death, it technically didn't break the Empire's laws, leaving others powerless to intervene.

Such practices were inescapable. In this Transcendent world, ordinary people couldn't defy the binding force of contracts.

Moreover, with magical disasters rampant, countless homeless individuals were struggling even to find food. They either wandered the wilderness in search of survival or sold themselves into slavery to eke out a meager existence. With the slave market now flooded, competition for slots had become fierce, and the price of a person had dropped to an all-time low.

And, bleak as this seemed, it was still better than some alternatives.

Luca had witnessed the post-apocalyptic devastation when the game descended upon the world, a time when humanity faced far worse conditions than now.

Life was as worthless as grass, barely worth mentioning…

The group continued touring other sections of the factory.

However, as they viewed more facilities, Luca's frown deepened.

Nothing—there was truly no sign of anything suspicious!

It looked like a standard meat processing plant.

Aside from the sheer number of people working, nothing set it apart.

Luca retraced his observations, carefully reviewing every detail of the factory and the slaves, yet he found nothing suspicious.

"How is this possible?" he murmured, a brief flicker of doubt crossing his eyes.

He was absolutely convinced that Harvis and the Mora family were hiding something sinister. But why hadn't they left a single clue? How were they managing this?

Seeing Luca's furrowed brow, a barely detectable smirk tugged at the corner of Harvis's mouth.

If their secrets were this easily uncovered…

They wouldn't dare to carry on their schemes right under Bronte's nose.

Trying to catch them? Daydreaming!

As they finished the final factory tour, Harvis cleared his throat, spread his hands, and said, "Miss Luna, Your Highness, the factory inspection is complete. If you'd like to visit again, you're always welcome.

"However, I do have a family meeting scheduled shortly, so unfortunately, I won't be able to host you for a meal."

"Of course, if you're interested, you're welcome to stay and sample some of the food from our factory. Freshly butchered meat—quite rare to come by on an average day."

At this, everyone fell silent. If not for Harvis's notorious reputation, his calm and straightforward demeanor could have easily painted him as the image of a respectable citizen.

Luna cast him a cool glance, then turned away, saying lightly, "We're leaving."

With this second investigation coming up empty, it seemed increasingly likely that Bronte had made a miscalculation. She looked forward to giving that idiot a piece of her mind back at the estate to let off some steam.

But just as she was about to depart, Luca, who had been silent until now, suddenly spoke, "Wait."

Luna paused mid-step.

Harvis's confident smile faltered.

Everyone turned to look at the quiet young man, their focus entirely on him.

Narrowing his eyes, Harvis asked, "Is there something I can help you with, Lord Luca?"

Luca's expression remained unchanged, calm and unbothered by the attention.

He met Harvis's gaze directly and chuckled softly, "No need to look so tense. It's nothing much—I'd just like to try the fresh meat your factory has to offer.

"After all, it's not every day one has access to such a rare treat."

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