Grind-to-Cash System: Buy SSS Skills to Spam them Infinitely with Cash-Chapter 34 - Daughter of Slaves

If audio player doesn't work, press Reset or reload the page.

Chapter 34: Chapter 34 - Daughter of Slaves

"Haaah...."

A gasp escaped her lips.

Soft. Breathless.

Mirea’s chest rose and fell where she lay slumped in the chair, one arm flung over the backrest, sweat trickling slowly down the curve of her neck.

Her legs were limp, parted slightly, and her mouth hung open as if trying to remember how to breathe.

"Ahn~"

A moan slipped past.

"Haah... how... how could something this ugly... be this tasty?"

The silence broke with laughter—not hers.

Across from her, Vex leaned back in his chair, one leg draped lazily over the other, arms behind his head like a smug bastard watching the aftermath of a conquest.

He tilted his chin slightly. "Of course. Any ugly thing in my hands becomes beautiful."

Then, a brief pause, his smile sharpening. "Though I can’t say the same for your attitude."

Mirea’s eye twitched.

Her lips curled as if ready to curse him out—really let loose—but she held it in. Instead, with exaggerated calm, she rolled her head toward him and muttered, "I forgive you. For this."

He placed a hand to his chest, feigning wounded honor. "Thank you, my lady."

In the corner, Maira was seated with her bowl in her lap, legs tucked beneath her, looking strangely content. Her expression was gentle, quiet... still stunned.

"It was really tasty," she murmured, barely above a whisper.

That earned Vex’s full attention. He turned, grin softening at the edges.

She looked up at him, curious now—almost shy. "How do you make it so good?"

His eyes lingered on her, that usual mischief dimming into something warmer.

"Because I wanted to reach someone’s heart."

Maira blinked, confused.

She glanced at her fingers as if trying to remember what they were doing there, before letting them drop to her lap. "...What does that even mean?"

He leaned in slightly, voice lowering—playful again, but tender underneath.

"Isn’t it a fact... that to reach a woman’s heart, you need to reach their belly first?"

He winked as he inwardly recalled how this line may be used for food, but in truth was made for a man who can reach a woman’s belly’s depth using his dick... or at least that’s what he used to think until he saw some romantic drama in his last life.

Not that it matters which one of them is true, given he has potential for both.

Maira didn’t reply. But the heat blooming in her cheeks answered plenty.

As the warmth lingered between Vex and Maira, a quiet shift stirred in the air.

Asperia stood nearby, unmoving. Arms crossed. Gaze sharp.

She had been watching them—every glance, every word, every spoonful. And though her expression remained neutral, something about the slight twitch in her jaw betrayed a silent storm.

Then, without a word, she stepped forward.

Her presence was enough to make Maira glance up, blinking in surprise.

Asperia extended her hand.

"Give me your palm."

Maira hesitated. "...Why?"

"I just want to diagnose you," Asperia said, too quickly. "See what problem you might have. Any effects from earlier..."

Her voice trailed off, carefully measured—but something was off. Too stiff. Too formal.

Maira looked toward Vex instinctively.

He gave a small nod, almost absentminded. But it made Asperia’s brow twitch.

She didn’t say anything.

Didn’t snap. Didn’t scoff. Just inhaled quietly and kept her hand outstretched.

There was a discomfort in her chest she didn’t quite understand. It crawled up from her ribs to her throat, sitting there like a stone.

She didn’t like how Vex looked at Maira.

Worse—she didn’t like how Maira looked back.

When Maira finally placed her hand in hers, Asperia closed her eyes, steadying her breath.

Her fingers were cool against Maira’s wrist as she began channeling her mana inward—soft, glowing strands trailing along her arm like silk threads searching for imbalance.

Her brow furrowed.

The mana reached the base of Maira’s veins—then met resistance.

A faint, unnatural block.

Asperia’s eyes opened sharply.

She pulled back just a little, jaw tightening.

Her gaze clung to Maira like a stain.

Then, with a tone too even to be casual, too sharp to be neutral, she said, "So... you’re half-kin. Or slave-born, perhaps."

The world stopped.

Not in silence—but in pressure. Thick. Suffocating. As if the very air recoiled from the word.

Maira froze. Her shoulders coiled up tight.

Mirea’s spine straightened in a jolt, like a blade had just scraped her nerves raw. That word—slave—wasn’t just a label.

It was a chain snapping back into place, dragging the past with it.

Asperia didn’t sneer. She didn’t glare.

But that tone—clinical, aristocratic, dissecting—slashed sharper than cruelty.

The kind of voice that appraised bloodlines instead of souls. That judged worth by purity, not pain. A noble’s voice, dipped in old venom.

Maira’s fingers twitched.

"...What does that have to do with—"

"Nothing," Asperia replied. Too fast. Too clipped. "I’m simply stating what I sensed."

But Vex was already stepping in. His voice didn’t rise—it cut.

"Asperia."

Just her name, but it hit like a hammer. His eyes were no longer amused. "Why are you being so firm with Maira?"

She didn’t flinch. "Ask them."

He turned to the sisters. No aggression. Just stillness. Expectancy. His eyes said answer me. Not because he doubted Asperia—but because something mattered to him here.

Maira’s heart slammed against her ribs like it was trying to get out.

She opened her mouth... and closed it again. Her throat refused. The pain was too ancient, too tangled. Her chest ached with it. That heavy, ugly shame that never really died.

Then—

"We were born to a slave," Mirea said, her voice like dry wind over bone. Hollow. Stripped. "A woman taken from the southern isles. A siren. She had no name. No rights. No hope. Just a collar. And a body they used."

She didn’t pause. Didn’t breathe.

"Inbred. Bred. Again and again. Until she gave birth to us." frёeωebɳovel.com

Maira’s eyes clenched shut. Every word felt like being peeled open.

"We ran away," Mirea finished, lower now. "At seven. We had to if we didn’t want to become like our mother. Ended up in a border town. Due to not being of much use, they forget about us."

The silence after wasn’t awkward.

It was devastating.

As if the room itself held its breath.

Maira stared down, lips pressed tight, trying not to let them tremble.

She didn’t want to see his face. Didn’t want to see that look of pity. Or disgust.

Or that awful, awful sympathy that made her feel small.

Then—

"The fuck?"

It hit like a rock thrown through stained glass.

She looked up, startled. So did Mirea.

Vex was frowning. Arms folded. His jaw clenched—not with confusion. But fury.

"Shouldn’t you both have killed that bastard before running away?"

Maira’s lips parted.

Mirea blinked.

Even Asperia shifted.

Vex exhaled, eyes narrowing. "I mean, shit. You ran? Fine. But if it were me, I’d have gutted that piece of filth on the way out. Tied his spine into a knot and hung it on their goddamn gate."

No pity.

thump thump

Maira looked down instantly, her breath catching. Both hands rested in her lap, one clasped tightly over the other, trembling just faintly.

Her lips pressed into a small, unsure pout, eyes clenched shut—not from shame, but from something else. Something dangerous.

Her chest swelled, heart hammering wildly, heat blooming behind her ribs, curling up her neck, her ears. It was too much. Too sudden. Too warm.

’I... I definitely love him.’