“Me?” Doug’s eyes widened when he heard Buck’s words, his smile frozen in an instant as if he had been hit by a freezing spell, standing there stunned. He never expected that the young master, who usually accepted his flattery, would suddenly turn against him today.

  Buck did not waste his breath repeating himself but instead gave a subtle nod to the guards behind him with his cold, frosty gaze. The two guards exchanged a glance, a barely noticeable smile curling at the corners of their lips. With a shrug, they took confident steps forward. In one smooth motion, they grabbed Doug’s arms, while Doug screamed and struggled like a duck caught by the neck, kicking his legs helplessly in the air. Without mercy, they yanked him away from Buck’s feet and dragged him out. To the guards, when the young master said to have him "chopped," it meant exactly that—removing such a scoundrel from the world was a much-needed service.

  “Please, no! Young master, spare me! What wrong have I done? I am loyal to you!” Doug’s cries echoed through the empty dungeon like the mournful hoots of an owl, full of despair. Just as Doug was about to be dragged out of the dungeon, Buck seemed to remember something and suddenly spoke up, “Wait.”

  The two guards, upon hearing the command, couldn’t hide their disappointment. Their movements froze momentarily.

  “You go to the butler and pick up your wages for the month, and then get out. Never show your face in front of me again.” Buck’s voice was cold and decisive, like the north wind of winter, devoid of any warmth. At his command, Doug, who had been crying in agony, immediately stopped. His face showed disbelief. He paused for a moment and then, as if granted amnesty, scrambled to his feet, nodding and bowing, retreating as he spoke repeatedly, “Thank you, young master, thank you! I will leave right away…”

  In the blink of an eye, Doug was kicked out of the dungeon, literally rolling and crawling as he fled through the gates of the manor.

  After getting rid of Doug, Buck walked calmly to the cage and ordered the guards to open it. When the cage door creaked open, a damp, decaying odor hit him. As he looked more closely, he realized that the two female slaves were, in fact, very similar twin sisters. From Buck's aesthetic viewpoint, they were indeed quite beautiful. Their flaxen hair fell like satin over their shoulders, and their large blue eyes resembled clear lakes, glimmering with a soft, shimmering light. They seemed to be slightly older than the seventeen-year-old Buck Frank, but not yet twenty. However, as soon as Buck saw them, a wave of irritation surged in his heart. Damn! That cursed voyeur spirit! It felt as though his gaze was being drawn by an invisible thread, and he couldn’t look away.

  The twin slaves, upon seeing Buck approach, trembled with fear and huddled together tightly, their eyes full of terror and helplessness, like startled deer. Buck fought the discomfort rising in him, closed his eyes, and tried to calm the turmoil in his heart. After a long pause, he slowly spoke, his voice deep and firm, “I’m giving you both a chance. Come to my room tonight.” This was clearly not a suggestion, but an order, with the tone of an authoritative figure.

  Buck wasn’t showing mercy by giving these poor sisters freedom. In this world, slaves were branded on the backs of their hands as a permanent mark of their status. Once a slave’s identity was sealed, it could never be changed. For ordinary people, a slave without a master would only fall into an endless abyss, never to rise again. Thus, Buck believed keeping them around was the greatest salvation he could offer them. Moreover, he had another plan in mind: he wanted to uncover clues about that arm—the Divine Corpse’s Arm—from these twins.

  The origin of the Divine Corpse’s Arm was a mystery, even to the original Buck Frank. That night was the first time he encountered the box containing the arm, and these two female slaves were delivered along with it by the cultists. They were likely descendants of a fallen noble family from the north, as nobles who were declared heretics or defeated in some struggle often became slaves. The arm itself was most likely a mysterious artifact that had come from the vault of one of these fallen families.

  ...

  Night fell like a massive piece of black satin, quietly enveloping the entire manor. Buck sat alone at his desk, the room silent except for the soft flicker of the candlelight on the table, casting shifting shadows. His brow furrowed as he struggled to resist the torment from the three malevolent spirits. At the same time, his mind was in turmoil, a tangled mess of thoughts.

  Suddenly, a soft knock on the door broke the stillness. “Come in,” Buck said in a deep voice. The twin slaves entered the room, dressed in maid outfits, carrying tea. Their steps were a little clumsy, and their heads were lowered, their eyes still filled with fear, though not as evasive as before. In the dim light of the oil lamp, another kind of light flickered in their eyes. It was a glimmer of courage—the courage to survive, no matter what difficulties they faced.

  Buck noticed the change in their eyes and couldn’t help but feel a bit of admiration for the twins. Even he, a person who had inexplicably crossed into this unknown and dangerous world, needed such courage to survive. “What are your names?” Buck suddenly asked. The sudden question left the twin sisters at a loss. They glanced at each other, their eyes full of confusion and hesitation. After a long pause, one of them timidly spoke, “We... don’t remember…”

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  “Don’t remember?” Buck raised an eyebrow in confusion, “You don’t remember who you are? What about your past memories?”

  “We don’t remember… They... erased most of our memories…” one of the female slaves trembled, tears welling up in her eyes as she spoke in a daze.

  Damn it... Buck cursed inwardly, raising his hand to rub his forehead. It was only now that he remembered the cruel methods those people had at their disposal. In this world, most of the nobles who had been reduced to slaves had their memories erased through some kind of dark ritual. Unless he could find a way to break the influence of that ritual, the chances of getting any information from these twins about the arm seemed hopeless.

  "Fine, I'll give you new names," Buck sighed helplessly, then casually pointed to the female slave on his left and said, "From now on, you'll be called Left Yi..." He then pointed to the female slave on his right, "And you’ll be Right Yi..." The name Left Yi sounded somewhat normal, but Right Yi... The two slaves exchanged glances upon hearing their new names, a hint of confusion in their eyes, but they dared not comment on the names given by their young master.

  Buck inwardly grumbled, swearing that he would never admit that these names were chosen randomly based on the direction of the twins’ hair. "That’s it, I’m going to rest now," he said, standing up and slowly walking towards the bed.

  At that moment, the two maids, who should have left, exchanged a glance. The light of courage sparkled in their eyes once more, even brighter than before. Especially Left Yi, who, with a glance, encouraged the once timid and hesitant Right Yi, who now gathered the courage to stand with her before Buck's large bed.

  "What are you doing?" Buck paused, looking at the twin maids, his face showing confusion.

  The twin maids lowered their heads, their faces flushed red, like ripe apples, charming and delicate. They didn’t answer Buck’s question, but simply stood there quietly, nervously clutching the edges of their clothes. Buck immediately realized that the two sisters were pledging their loyalty to him, their new master.

  "I don’t need this..." Buck sighed inwardly. What he truly needed were the memories they had lost. He shook his head gently, a bitter smile appearing on his face. At this moment, he had no mood to accept this meaningless gift. Moreover, in this perilous world, any gift might carry hidden poison, so he had to be cautious.

  The twin maids, seeing that their master had no reaction, realized that he was not interested in them at all. They became even more embarrassed and timid, flustered as they prepared to flee.

  "Wait..." Buck called out to them, then sat back down at his desk, resting his hands on his chin and silently watching them. While he didn’t need the twins to sacrifice themselves, there was no harm in enjoying the view. The evil spirit hidden in his eyes seemed to sense his thoughts and let out a satisfied cheer. At the same time, his spiritual energy began to recover little by little. This was another reason why he had kept the two sisters—he needed to satisfy the evil spirit to regain spiritual energy. After all, the spiritual energy from the evil spirit wouldn’t recover on its own, and this was one of the ways, aside from devouring food, that he could restore his energy.

  The twin sisters were taken aback by Buck’s sudden behavior, unsure whether to stand or leave, their faces as red as if they were about to drip with water. Suddenly, the bold Left Yi seemed to have realized something, and a ripple of thought stirred in her mind as she secretly wondered, "Has the master changed his mind?"

  Buck looked at them with an indifferent expression, completely unmoved. Seeing that the maids were too shy, he simply reached out and extinguished the oil lamp on the desk. With the help of the voyeuristic evil spirit, his vision was unaffected in the dark, and the twin sisters found some comfort in the pitch-black environment.

  ...

  In the late hours of the night, everything was quiet, and the entire manor seemed to have fallen into a deep sleep. Buck sat alone on the balcony, perched on a high terrace, the view expansive. He could clearly see the giant crescent moon rising above the distant mountains. The moon emitted an eerie and mysterious glow, as though silently revealing the secrets of this world.

  Buck stared at the planet in a daze. As the gentle night breeze blew, he felt his eyelids grow heavier, and before he knew it, he fell asleep.

  He had a very strange dream—strange and terrifying. In the dream, it was as if he had traveled through time and space, returning to the familiar blue planet. However, the scene before him left him speechless. He saw the beautiful planet shattering, countless red arms stretching out from the void, like a horde of vicious demons, grabbing onto the planet itself. Those terrifying claws, adorned with dark red patterns, were incredibly powerful, slowly crushing the planet into fragments, as if playing a brutal game of destruction.

  Buck suddenly woke up in a cold sweat, gasping for air, his eyes filled with fear and confusion. Looking toward the horizon, the western sky had already lightened, the dawn quietly dispersing the darkness.

  "Was that a dream? The hand in the dream... the God’s corpse hand!?" Buck stared at his palm, a strange thought suddenly rising from deep within. Perhaps the arm of the God’s corpse was related to his old world? Could he have a chance to return? To the world he knew, one without curses, without evil gods...

  Buck shook his head, trying to rid himself of these chaotic thoughts. He slowly got up, entered the room, and began to dress. As he did, he set a few goals in his mind. To uncover why Viddens wanted him dead, as it was crucial to his safety in this world; to increase his strength and lift the curse on him, only then could he stand his ground in this dangerous world; to investigate the origins of the God’s corpse hand, as it might hold the key to his return to his original world.

  He wanted to survive and to live a life more glorious than his previous one. He silently swore that until he regained the memories lost in his past life, he would never give up. To live again, he would not let it be in vain...