"Food, ten gold coins per serving~" The slave-catching squad captain said with an awkward smile, leading the way while holding the reins.

"Too expensive..."

Allen lowered her head and whispered softly.

"Do you get it?" one of his companions chimed in beside him. "You're a slave now, miss."

"..."

How could she resist this situation? She was like a fish on the chopping block, utterly at their mercy. What bargaining chips did she have left? Only those ten magic crystals, probably.

"Ugh... fine..."

Allen pulled a translucent magic crystal from her felt pouch. She carefully placed it on the cage edge.

Instantly, the crystal coin vanished.

She was starving. Three days without food since capture. The captain knew but stayed silent. Only when Allen couldn't endure it and asked did he reply. Still, she had to endure. Wherever she went, she'd seek Demon Castle at the first chance. Rest was crucial now.

Normally, after days without food but with water, hunger fades as fat burns. But for Allen, it surged like waves—each one fiercer, threatening to make her faint.

"Clever choice~"

The captain tossed her a large chunk of dark bread and a waterskin.

Before, ten gold coins could buy cartloads of meat. Not just bread. What a drastic change.

Allen devoured it ravenously the moment she got it. No manners left. Like a starving beast.

The captain sat beside the prison cart, silently watching the starving girl. He chuckled inwardly. Seeing someone eat like this was new.

She tried stuffing the whole bread into her mouth at once. Afraid he'd take it back. But her small mouth choked. Involuntary tears streamed as she spat it out. She caught the lump, then carefully pushed it back in. As if someone might steal it.

"Drink water. Don't choke."

He reminded her. Allen ignored him, still wrestling with the bread. Too hungry.

Oddly, back in Demon Castle, she barely ate her own cakes. Now, this dry, awful bread? She'd devour every crumb. Such was prison life.

The bread was huge. But Allen ate like a starving ghost. Frantic. She might have a long road ahead. Even a hundred gold coins might not cover her hunger.

While the captain wasn't looking, she tore off pieces and hid them in her felt pouch lining. He didn't notice.

After the feast, the whole bread was gone—eaten or hidden. She feared he'd confiscate leftovers. So she stuffed it all inside.

Full but uncomfortable from the dry bread, Allen curled in a cage corner. Fighting the nausea.

Truth was, after long starvation, gorging risks choking or stomach damage. But Allen had no choice. She needed to store food. Hence the pain.

Exhausted, Allen finally sank into deep sleep. Maybe she'd feel better after rest.

Fate was such a joke...

Allen slept soundly. These events affected no one but her. Only she knew this pain.

Her calmness came from iron will. Nothing mattered except finding Lilith.

"If I die, I'll never see her again..." That's what she told the captain when he asked why she didn't escape.

Willing to die for her goal—that was her self-destructive nature's scariest part. Allen might not even realize it.

"Hmph..." The captain sat by the cart, sneering. "If I were the buyer, I wouldn't let a costly slave escape for some meeting."

He spat out the grass stem he'd been chewing. Leaned against the cart. Fell asleep. Soft snores soon followed.

Allen lay on her side. The captain was just a cage away. She could reach out and choke him.

She glanced around. The men were busy elsewhere. Ignoring her.

Perfect chance. One squeeze, and she could end the man who ruined her life.

Allen weighed the risks.

Success meant secret escape. Though recapture was likely.

Failure meant losing a limb. The captain warned her: incomplete slaves couldn't be sold. He'd chop off her hand or foot. A hardened criminal.

"Gulp..."

Allen swallowed hard. Crept silently toward him.

This might be her only escape shot.

Allen wasn't passive. But this trait always pushed her to risks. With bad outcomes: first becoming someone else. Then gaining night blindness.

After careful thought, she stared at the keys. Then lay back down quietly. Other chances might come. Mess up now, and she'd never run again.

She couldn't take fate's jokes anymore. Controlled. Freed. Chose to replace her brother. Killed. Enslaved. Crippled. Captured again. Why was her life a joke? Next, they might break her limbs.

"Accept what comes." That was Allen's conclusion after tragedy.

Quietly, Allen slept. Meanwhile, the captain—pretending to sleep—sat up from the adjacent cart. He picked up the discarded grass stem and chewed it again.

"Interesting."

He'd seen everything. Planned to scare her. But she didn't run.

The squad wasn't unguarded. His men were ready to act. But Allen didn't take the bait. The long con ended before starting.

From talking to Allen, he'd studied her expressions closely. Simply put: childish.

Yes, childish like a kid. Hiding nothing.

He felt her hatred—it was obvious. She kept seeking escape chances. With clumsy excuses. She didn't realize it.

Truth was, Allen was normal as a child. Played with peers. But after being locked in a dark room, worrying about her brothers, she stopped talking. Books and solitude made her gloomy. Even at Gryffindor, revenge training left no time for friends.

So Allen's speech and thoughts stayed childlike. Yet years of reading gave her wisdom.

This made her hard to read. Talking to her needed no guard. Yet she didn't escape when she could. Truly puzzling.