Reborn with my SSS-Class Innate Talent

"It's done. You got what you wanted." 

Kyle said, looking at the slave he had just saved. He did not feel anything when he helped her out, but must mean a lot for the slave to have that melancholic look in her eyes.

She clenched her fists, taking in the sight of the freed slaves. Her eyes shone with emotion, but she held back any outward signs of gratitude.

Instead, she met Kyle's gaze head-on.

"Thank you." 

She said, her voice steady.

Kyle smirked.

"Don't thank me yet. You belong to me now. I hope you're ready for that." 

He replied. 

She didn't flinch.

"I was never free to begin with. But at least now, I get to choose my own chains." 

She murmured. 

Kyle chuckled. 

"That's a good answer."

With the owner and his guards arrested, the slaves freed, and his new subordinate at his side, Kyle turned toward the exit.

"Let's go. I have more work to do." 

He said. 

And with that, he stepped out of the ruined slave house, leaving behind the first of many fallen corruptions in his path.

Kyle turned his attention back to the former slave. 

She was still standing there, her malnourished frame barely able to hold itself up, yet her gaze was unwavering. There was something fierce in her eyes—an iron will that had yet to be broken despite all she had endured.

"What's your name? If you are going to be my subordinate, then I need an easy way to call for you." 

Kyle asked.

She hesitated before replying.

"People like me don't have names, my lord. We have numbers."

Kyle's expression remained unreadable. 

"A number, huh? I don't care for it. If you are going to be with me, then choose a name for yourself."

She straightened her back slightly, as if preparing herself for humiliation. 

"I am 246. I do not have a right to name myself." 

She said with forced neutrality.

Kyle scoffed. 

"That's not a name. From now on, you are Melissa. Hmm, that name should work out fine for you."

Her eyes widened slightly.

"Melissa?"

"Yes. You don't need to worry about lacking an identity anymore. You belong to me now, and I take good care of my things." 

He said casually.

For a moment, Melissa's lips parted as if she wanted to say something, but no words came out. The weight of his words settled deep within her. 

To be called something other than a number, to be recognized as someone—this was something she had never experienced before.

Her fists clenched. Her knees wobbled. 

She could feel the overwhelming gratitude swelling within her, but rather than fall to her knees and weep, she met Kyle's gaze and spoke with conviction.

"Then until my last breath, I am yours."

Kyle narrowed his eyes slightly. He felt the surge of mana in the air as she unknowingly bound herself to him with an oath. The realization amused him.

An oath sworn upon one's mana was not something that could be taken back. She had unknowingly sealed her fate.

But Kyle had no intention of telling her that.

She would learn the truth in time. And by then, she would already be too far down his path to turn back.

______

As they arrived back at the Armstrong estate, Kyle felt it before he saw it—the familiar, hurried footsteps of his older brother, Christan. Each step was heavy with anger.

Kyle sighed. So predictable.

Knowing that Christan would confront him any second now, Kyle turned to his butler.

"Take Melissa inside. Give her food and clothes to change into."

Kyle ordered.

The butler hesitated. 

"Young Master, will you be alright? The Lord won't be happy about what happened today."

Kyle smirked. 

"Since when has my father ever been happy with me?"

The butler frowned, but he knew better than to argue. With one last worried glance, he led Melissa inside, leaving Kyle alone just as Christan arrived.

Christan's face was filled with fury. 

"Kyle! What the hell did you do?!" 

He barked. 

Kyle tilted his head slightly. 

"You'll have to be more specific, dear brother. I do a lot of things."

Christan grabbed Kyle's collar and yanked him forward. His grip was firm, his muscles tense with barely contained rage.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about! You had the city guards arrest a man who has powerful connections! Do you have any idea how much trouble you just caused?"

Kyle remained completely unfazed, his expression one of boredom. 

"Ah, you mean the slave merchant? Don't worry about him. He won't be a problem anymore."

Christan clenched his jaw. 

"You reckless idiot! The nobles who benefit from his trade won't sit quietly! Do you think you can just waltz around doing whatever you want without consequences?"

Kyle smirked.

"And do you think I care about those nobles?"

Christan's grip tightened, but Kyle didn't even flinch.

"Listen to me, Kyle. You are already an embarrassment to our family. Father barely tolerates your existence as it is. Do you think he'll protect you when the nobles come knocking at our door, demanding retribution?" 

Christan hissed. 

Kyle's smirk only widened. 

"Oh, Christan. You misunderstand something important."

Christan narrowed his eyes.

"What?"

Kyle leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper. 

"I don't need Father's protection."

A shiver ran down Christan's spine. 

There was something chilling about the way Kyle said those words, as if he had already calculated every possible outcome and determined himself the victor.

For the first time, a seed of unease planted itself in Christan's mind.

Kyle noticed, and he relished in it.

"Now, if you're done yelling, I'd like to go inside. I had a long day."

Kyle said, brushing Christan's hands off his collar as if they were nothing more than dust. 

Christan remained frozen, watching as Kyle walked away without a care in the world.

For years, he had dismissed Kyle as a cripple, a useless waste of the Armstrong name. But today…

Today, something felt different.

And that difference terrified him.