Transmigrated into a Redemption Novel as a Disciplinary Bug - Chapter 2

“Oh?” Carlos arched an eyebrow, looking the part of someone deeply intrigued.

“High-end stock is another story,” the guard said, ignoring Carlos and continuing his monologue. “The defective ones are sold off cheap to downstream dealers. You must have seen them on your way here—the ones in cages on the street. Things that aren’t fit for the stage at ‘Sweet Home’ are still prize goods people fight over out there.”

The guard swiped a keycard, turned the handle leisurely, and gave a sinister smile.

“But the female Zerg in here is special. No matter what methods you use, you can torment him however you like.”

“No concerns about damaging the merchandise? That doesn’t seem to follow the rules,” Carlos pressed.

His tone was one of lighthearted banter, but suspicion had taken root in his mind.

An exchange like this, which specialized in supplying high-end auction houses, usually had strict standards and limits for every tool and method used, all to minimize the “wear and tear” on the merchandise. It was meant to constrain the discipliners’ behavior and ensure a higher rate of “standardized” products.

For the guard to say something as reckless as “torment him however you like” suggested that the fate of the female Zerg inside had already been decided behind the scenes.

It seemed the “Protagonist Shou’s” fall into the black market involved far more dirty secrets than met the eye.

“Just do your job and stop meddling in things that don’t concern you!”

The guard spat on the ground and gave a hard shove. The semi-rusted door creaked and groaned as it slowly swung open.

The room behind the door wasn’t small; it was roughly the size of a standard solitary confinement cell. However, a cage sat right in the center, looking jarringly out of place.

The iron bars glinted with a cold, metallic luster—the kind that even the strongest Zerg warrior wouldn’t be able to budge an inch.

The cage was tiny.

So small it could barely fit a large adult dog; even a dog would find it suffocatingly cramped. Yet, it held an adult male—no, a female Zerg.

The cage was also massive.

Large enough to imprEthan a female Zerg’s dignity and pride, to lock away all his freedom and glory, reducing him to a prEthaner, a creature in a tank, a flower to be crushed in one’s palm.

The next thing that struck Carlos was a flash of silver-white.

The female Zerg in the cage had long, silver-white hair. Mottled blood had clotted in the strands, which lay in a tangled mess across his back like a final tattered garment.

Calculated by a central AI, the bars of the cage were designed to trap the Zerg in a death-grip, leaving only the barest sliver of space to breathe. The bars looked as if they were growing directly out of his flesh.

The female Zerg was forced into a tight fetal position, completely motionless. His hair covered him so thoroughly that nothing could be seen clearly.

In this state, if he were to die, it’s likely no one would notice for quite some time.

Several iron chains extended from his body toward the walls of the room. The chains rattled faintly, shifting with the female Zerg’s shallow breaths.

Drip. Drip.

Specks of blood trailed from the cage all the way to Carlos’s feet.

Confronted with this scene, the mask of a smile on Carlos’s face remained flawless. There wasn’t a single crack in his composure, save for a slight quickening of his breath that vanished as soon as it appeared.

“You have this slave locked in a cage where I can’t see a thing. How exactly do you expect me to discipline him?”

Hearing this, the guard begrudgingly swiped the cage’s keycard, letting out a cold snort.

The bars vanished. Deprived of his only support, the female Zerg’s body collapsed completely onto the floor like a heap of sodden mud.

Carlos stepped forward, but before he could get close, the chains attached to the female Zerg moved on their own, retracting rapidly into the walls.

As the chains snapped taut, the female Zerg was yanked upward from the floor.

According to what Carlos had read in the Slave Discipline Manual, the use of primitive iron chains in the interstellar era was a specific fetish of the Male Lords. It satisfied their sense of superiority over the female Zerg while maintaining a certain aesthetic of cruelty.

Two chains bound the female Zerg’s wrists, hoisting his arms high until his toes barely grazed the floor. Only then did the chains stop retracting.

Two other, more gruesome chains pierced through his chest, entering through the collarbones and exiting through the scapulae at the back—like steel pins pinning a butterfly to a mounting board.

In this posture, the female Zerg could only maintain balance by straining on his tiptoes. His body was in a state of extreme tension, his arches and calves pulled into beautiful, taut curves.

Finally, Carlos could see the female Zerg in his entirety.

Every inch of visible skin was covered in purple bruises and countless wounds. The flesh was torn open, revealing the pale pink muscle beneath. The contrast of red and white was vivid and piercing.

The muscles across his body were lean and elegant—not the bulky, explosive type, but something more refined and agile. His waist was narrow, and his abdominal muscles and hip lines were aesthetically striking; he was the type who would look deceptively slender in clothes.

Carlos reached out, his fingers brushing against the female Zerg’s face. Just as he was about to tilt the head up to see the face hidden beneath the hair, the guard’s sharp voice stopped him.

“If you aren’t prepared, I wouldn’t suggest putting your hands on him so easily.”

The guard squeezed a few sounds out of his throat, forming a grotesque laugh. “This slave has already maimed two discipliners.”

He pointed to a small, rope-like piece of flesh on the ground.

“See that? We haven’t even had time to clean it up. That’s an antenna he bit off a guard the day before yesterday.”

“Later, we dislocated his jaw.”

He then gestured toward another small hunk of meat not far away.

“And that… what was it he tore off? Oh right, a right pectoral muscle.”

After saying that, the guard glanced down at his own chest and shuddered twice, as if recalling the carnage of that day.

“Tsk. Just to be safe, we sliced his hamstrings and tendons and locked him in that cage.”

Upon hearing this, the corners of Carlos’s mouth curled upward. He reached out again and directly touched the female Zerg’s cheek.

His smile deepened, his eyes half-lidded with nonchalance, as he met the guard’s gaze again.

“You should be well aware of my methods.”

Under Carlos’s gaze, the guard actually felt a momentary illusion that he was the prey being targeted.

He prided himself on being a veteran, and his habit of looking down on newcomers was ingrained in his bones. But now, reminded of “Carlos’s” record, the man’s history began to flash through his mind—case after case of cruelty that would make even the most hardened discipliner flinch.

No matter how rebellious the slave, they all ended up broken and obedient under his bloody hand.

Former high-ranking military officers who had fallen from grace, men with bones of iron were slowly demolished body and soul until they became the most submissive, lowly slaves.

The stubborn, wooden types who were immune to both threats and charms were transformed as if they had been fed bone-eroding aphrodisiacs, becoming the most sought-after “top-tier goods” for the Lords to bid over.

“So, please wait for the good news. Leave the key and get out.”

Carlos’s voice was low and sensual, smooth as silk. The words he spoke sounded like the soft prayers of a choir boy, yet held the seductive whisper of a demon in the dark of night.

The small solitary cell was finally cleared of outsiders.

Carlos touched the female Zerg’s neck. He could feel the blood racing beneath the skin; a warmth radiated against his fingertips.

He carefully pinched the female Zerg’s chin and brushed the hair aside, finally revealing the face.

Carlos froze for a moment.

A jagged scar tore across half the face, crawling across the features like a hideous parasite. Over half the face looked as if it had been doused in acid, covered in pustules and wounds. The original features were unrecognizable, utterly horrific.

Forget a Zerg cub. Even an adult would be terrified by this sight.

Carlos’s hand hung frozen in mid-air. All the actions he had planned vanished from his mind.

Was he afraid? Not exactly. He had seen sights far more disturbing than this.

But looking at this face, it felt as if something was clawing at him from the inside, a sudden tightening in his chest.

【Host! Host! That was so cool just now! I didn’t know you actually knew how to do all that! No time to lose, let’s get started!】

The System seized the opportunity to pop up.

【Please bring the Protagonist Shou up to auction house standards. Issuing the first task: Destroy the Zerg wings.】

【It’s just the most basic disciplinary procedure. You can do it, Host!】

“Wait. When did I ever say I knew how to do those things? I’m the host you found, and my services do not include weird stuff like that. Doing that kind of thing costs extra.”

【Then what was all that just now? You… you seemed so at ease with it all!】 the System asked, bewildered and trembling.

“Oh, that? A couple of days ago, I flipped through the Detailed Handbook for Exchange Discipliners. And didn’t I ask you for some data yesterday? I was just cramming for the role.”

“Besides, didn’t you set up my identity as a ‘Gold-Tier Senior Discipliner’? You should know better than anyone how those so-called ‘senior resumes’ are fabricated.”

Carlos’s expression said it all: Impressive? I was faking it.

The Zerg black market wasn’t much different from Earth’s; it was a place that ate people alive. It was the same as joining a new workplace—if you’re too kind, people will bully you; they pick on the softest targets. Without a disguise, let alone completing tasks, he probably wouldn’t even be able to keep his life in a society that worshipped martial strength.

Talking like a devil to a devil—that was the true way to survive.

Even if he didn’t know the first thing about disciplining slaves, faking it? That was easy.

The System: I’m starting to doubt my own existence. Can you really fake that?

It had indeed set the identity, but seeing the Host act so seasoned that even a ruthless guard was intimidated, it had been completely fooled by the facade.

【Host, then what about the task? How are we going to do it?】 the System wailed, its voice bordering on tears.

“Why wouldn’t we be able to do it? I’ll just learn as I go. Don’t panic.”

Setting aside the sobbing System for a moment, Carlos looked at the female Zerg again.

Slave Number 2757.

A favored son of the stars who should have belonged to the vast universe, a natural-born warrior, and the Protagonist Shou of the original book.

And now, as a discipliner, he was supposed to thoroughly humiliate him.

Suddenly, Carlos felt an itch in the palm of his hand. The sensation of eyelashes fluttering against him.

A pair of silver-gray eyes met his.

The female Zerg was awake.

“2757. I am your new discipliner. I look forward to our time together.”