The hosts had long known Ferdinand was coming; the manager personally welcomed him, reserving the largest and central room.
Ferdinand was very pleased.
His power in Spanka was formidable, and he was renowned in the international arms market.
To run a black market in Spanka, one needed government bribes and local figures like him.
The manager went by Python, though it was just an alias.
In such transactions, the boss wouldn't usually show up, and Python representing the deal indicated he was a trusted aide.
Python, a shrewd man in his forties, had known in advance that Ferdinand was bringing a distinguished guest.
He bowed, opening the door for the guests, scanning them with his peripheral vision.
Besides Ferdinand, who led the way, there was a woman behind him, followed by two tall men walking side by side.
One man was clad in simple black attire, his buzz cut and indifferent expression giving little away. As he walked, his gaze remained unwavering, head held high, his stride commanding attention. To the discerning eye, it was clear his skills were extraordinary.
The other, in stark contrast, wore luxurious clothing, the blue-edged collar accentuating his tall frame and handsome features. He moved with an effortless grace, exuding the charm of a young heir, the very image of a pampered scion.
Python couldn't tell who was in charge, so he greeted them both warmly, making sure to be equally hospitable.
He automatically overlooked the woman in the middle.
Trailing behind Mr. Ackerley, the woman at his side was clearly no ordinary mistress.
But this mistress was special.
Unlike others, who were sculpted with curves and radiated seductive beauty, draped in fine garments, arrogantly clutching their benefactor's arm to mark their territory, fearful that some other temptress might steal away their sugar daddy.
This woman was different. Dressed in simple white, her outfit neat and unassuming, her looks unremarkable, lacking anything truly striking. Yet her demeanor was polite and gentle. As she passed him, she even offered a friendly, "Thank you."
She was obedient, understanding—no wonder she had earned the privilege of being brought along.
But once inside and seated, the scene became less clear for Python.
Ferdinand turned and respectfully ushered the woman into her seat before taking his own.
To Python's surprise, the two men, who had seemed to be in charge, stood behind her chair without question.
Python's face remained neutral, but inwardly, he was startled. He couldn't help but wonder which influential figure could command such deference from Ferdinand, yet he couldn't immediately place her status.
After properly seeing Ferdinand settled, Python withdrew from the room, hurriedly making his way to the backstage chamber. He dismissed all the men inside, locked the door, and immediately called for his master.
A young man's voice came through the intercom, carrying an air of casual authority.
"Ferdinand arrived? Who did he bring?"
"At first, I thought it was two young men, but upon closer inspection, I realized one was a young woman."
There was a brief silence on the other end before a light chuckle, almost a murmur, "So, Arabella came after all."
After that, the connection was cut off. Though suspicious, Python in the main hall knew better than to be curious about things he shouldn't know.
Curiosity could kill, especially in chaotic times like these.
The auction began, and what was traded here on the black market wasn't simple treasures, but many unspeakable underground dealings.
"This one's good. I heard this type of drug is in high demand recently. Want to make a deal on it?" Ferdinand pointed at the tiny pink granules on the screen, seeking Arabella's opinion.
Arabella glanced at it lazily, saying, "I heard the production method was taken from AE."
Ferdinand smirked with a hint of schadenfreude, "Yeah. Someone must have nerves of steel to steal from AE."
"I have some ties with AE."
Ferdinand caught the implication; Arabella had no interest in this batch of drugs.
He wasn't interested in drugs either, thinking these mind-numbing items couldn't compare to the clean-cut business of arms trade.
Living off constant highs from fantasies was no match for the thrill of real life.
To live authentically, to live freely and without regret, and to die just as decisively. Even if it meant yearning for a woman he could never possess, Ferdinand found it all to be worth it.
Halfway through the auction, Arabella hadn't seen anything worthwhile.
Only in the rare treasures round did she bid on a green glass thumb ring.
The three men present noticed that the ring was a men's style, and their hearts all skipped a beat.
It wasn't a rare treasure, but the significance lay in the fact that Arabella had bought it.
With a flick of the finger, the servant carefully placed the ring on a soft, cushioned tray, and with deliberate care, brought it forward.
Arabella took the ring and casually grabbed Ferdinand's hand.
Ferdinand felt the heat in her palm, a searing warmth that burned through his chest, creating a hollow, where every bit of tenderness flowed in like a river.
Though he understood deeply that the woman before him wore her tender, affectionate guise as nothing more than a mask, that her calm, ethereal demeanor hid a heart full of schemes, yet still, she drew him in—born with the uncanny ability to bewitch the soul.
Arabella lowered her head, seemingly oblivious to Ferdinand's tense, contorted expression as he struggled for control.
She toyed with the ring, slid it onto Ferdinand's thumb, then said with satisfaction, "The size is perfect. Do you like the style?"
"I love it to the extreme." Ferdinand nearly ground the words out through clenched teeth, unsure what it was that had made him invest so much of his heart's blood into this love.
Albatross, standing behind, took it all in, his teeth clenched, his fingernails digging so deeply into his palm that they drew blood.
But that pain was nothing—such heart-wrenching anguish was truly a killing blow.
Meanwhile, Raven remained indifferent, his gaze drifting over Albatross's torment with a hint of a cold smile.
Good, one more to share in this pain. Maybe that would ease it a little.
As tensions simmered, the auction moved into its final phase.
This year, a pet trade had been added, drawing many buyers specifically for this purpose.
Although human trafficking happened in many places, The black market in Spanka was famous, and the quality of the trade here was expected to be high.
As expected, one by one, the women were brought out—each with their own shape, some fresh and radiant, others stunningly delicate. Slender waists, long legs, their bodies almost bare save for a delicate veil, all illuminated by the harsh spotlight as they stood on display.
The atmosphere grew unusually heated. Compared to the usual dark dealings, treating humans as commodities seemed to evoke a deeper desire.
After a round of bidding, the host returned to announce that, considering female buyers, there would also be a male pet trade this year.
Unlike the female pets, there were only three males, brought up one by one for bidding.
From the moment the first male came on stage, the three men held their breath, watching Arabella's reaction.
Arabella seemed disinterested, her gaze drifting over the trained pets before her, entirely uninterested in their polished obedience.
People, she thought, were only worth attention when shaped by her own hand.
Seeing her lack of enthusiasm, the three men in the room secretly sighed in relief.
But when the final man entered, Arabella's attention sharpened, her eyes locking onto him.
This man was unlike the others. Even dressed only in a tight-fitting bullet-style brief, he walked in with the ease of someone strolling through their own backyard, calm and unhurried.
What set him apart were his eyes—long and slightly narrow, yet sharp as a blade, with golden, round pupils that shimmered under the lights. His gaze, intense and mesmerizing, gave the illusion of having eyeliner drawn, slightly upward-tilted, adding a subtle refinement to his masculine features.
His other features seemed to complement his captivating eyes perfectly. From his forehead to the bridge of his nose to his jawline, the contours were smooth, flowing seamlessly from one to the other.
As if sensing something, the man suddenly lifted his head, his eyes locking with Arabella's from across the room. A faint, almost imperceptible smile played on his lips.
At that moment, he stood in the spotlight, while Arabella, seated high above, remained cloaked in shadow—silent, still, and yet fully present.
Arabella, seated, narrowed her eyes slightly. Ferdinand, beside her, may not understand, but Raven and Albatross, observing from the side, knew her subtle gesture all too well.
This man had piqued Arabella's interest.
