The auction in the front was in full swing, while the back remained silent.
With most transactions complete and the end approaching, the guards began moving away from the back to escort buyers out safely along the route.
A shadow leapt over the railing, gliding down the banister like a feather, slipping silently into the room where the women were held captive.
The men were still being auctioned up front, so these sold women had not yet been taken away.
The intruder, dressed in the same black attire as the guards, pulled his hat low and strode purposefully to the door holding his target.
The two women locked inside recoiled in fear at the sight of the guards approaching, their bodies instinctively retreating. The others, also imprisoned, fell to the ground in despair, their eyes brimming with tears, fully aware that a future far worse than death awaited them—one that stripped them of their humanity.
The man signaled for silence, glancing at the door for movement, then whispered, "Are you Vivienne Sutherland?"
One girl, her face tear-streaked, hadn't heard her real name since being abducted.
Passed from one captor to another, subjected to inhuman training, she was known only by a number or vile names—"bitch," "sow," "sex slave." She feared that beyond a miserable death, she'd lost all rights to humanity.
The girl lunged toward the door, her hands trembling as she clutched the stranger's arm, a spark of hope igniting in her heart—hope that she had long since abandoned. Desperation gave way to a faint glimmer of life. She nodded frantically, knowing that anyone who could call her name at this moment would never be one of the monsters who had tormented her.
"I'm here to save you." Time was tight; he couldn't explain further.
Vivienne nodded, obediently trusting him; anyone who could free her was a savior.
The other girls, hearing he was there to rescue someone, scrambled to the cell door, tearfully pleading for his help.
The man averted his gaze, pained; he was only one person, and getting this far had been difficult enough.
Escaping with Vivienne alone was already a life-risking task; saving everyone was an impossible feat.
Yet, as a human, a man, a soldier, those pleading gazes weighed heavily on him, impossible to ignore.
After a brief hesitation, the man said quietly, "I can't get everyone out. But I can unlock the doors. After that, you're on your own."
The girls knew that in this hell, hope was almost nonexistent.
Yet, with the slightest glimmer of hope, their will to survive surged to the surface.
The will to survive holds infinite potential within a person. Those delicate young girls, gritting their teeth in silent resolve, paid no mind to their almost naked bodies. In the face of survival, only the unwavering belief in staying alive mattered.
The man was clearly prepared; the cell locks weren't difficult to open, and the guards, confident the "trained" women couldn't escape, were lax in their duties.
After freeing them all, he took Vivienne's hand and instructed, "Follow me closely. If we encounter anyone, I'll say I'm escorting you to the buyer."
Vivienne nodded, keeping her head bowed, silently praying for a shred of mercy from her unknown fate.
Life and death balanced on a single thread.
Once outside, the girls scattered, running in all directions.
The man stood still, watching their retreating figures, sighing silently. He knew few, if any, would be lucky enough to escape.
Even in the moment when he unlocked the prison door, there lingered the suspicion that he might use them as bait, a means to divert the enemy's attention.
But he had no choice; all he could do was focus on saving his compatriot.
Once the girls had scattered, he led Vivienne along the secret path he had used to infiltrate.
At the end of the narrow alley was the entrance to the rooms of the major buyers. He had scouted both inside and out; these influential clients were always guarded by their own bodyguards.
The mercenaries involved in the black market deals, however, were nowhere to be seen.
Not knowing them was better—it was easier to take risks when there was no personal connection.
After sprinting down the alley, the man came to a halt, taking a deep breath. He turned to the girl behind him and whispered, "Listen, we need to find a way into one of the rooms. Once we're in, you head straight for a corner and hide. I'll take care of everyone inside."
Delivering the goods to the buyer was part of the trade; it had to be done.
Since it was his first pet transaction, the two guards at the entrance didn't react when they saw him approach.
They leered at Vivienne, one of them even going so far as to grab her backside.
When Vivienne stifled a shout, the man quickly hushed the guard, "Don't be foolish, that's already the client's property."
The guard, understanding the gravity of the situation, eased his vigilance and waved them through, signaling the man to enter with his charge.
The rooms for the major buyers were few, the corridor carpeted so thickly that every step was soundless. The soundproofing was impeccable, designed to ensure that no noise disturbed the important guests.
Almost every room was guarded by bodyguards.
The man kept his head low, his eyes scanning rapidly, searching for the most opportune target to eliminate.
There was only one chance. He was delivering a person—once he passed, there was no turning back.
The tension in his chest made his throat tighten, and sweat beaded down his brow.
One wrong move, and it was death.
Finally—outside the central room, there wasn't a single guard.
Given the room size, even with bodyguards inside, there wouldn't be more than three or four.
For a confrontation, fewer people were naturally better, and ideally, no outside reinforcements.
The man couldn't afford another moment of hesitation; he halted briefly and knocked on the door, with Vivienne by his side.
"Come in—" came a young man's voice from inside.
Typically, such young men were rich heirs, merely here for curiosity in black market dealings—easy to handle.
The man pushed the door open, quickly scanning the room.
Only four people were there—three men and one woman.
But—as soon as he stepped in, he wanted to retreat. There was an expert here.
There was no room for hesitation; the moment he entered, it felt like standing at the gates of hell—either they lived, or they died.
He raised his leg and launched a swift kick straight at the face of the young man in black, striking first to gain the upper hand. In close combat, victory or defeat is often decided in the blink of an eye.
The opponent reacted even faster; almost the instant he attacked, the young man grabbed his ankle and countered with a twist.
The man kicked off the ground, using the momentum to counter-kick.
The two quickly closed in, exchanging blows.
Following her instructions, Vivienne shrank into a corner, trembling. Amid the chaos, she glanced at the other three in the room.
Three young men stood off to one side, leaning casually against chairs. One, too strikingly handsome for words, wore a luxurious cobalt blue outfit with ornate trim, his gaze fixed on the two combatants, watching with an air of detached amusement.
Seated were a man and a woman, both young.
Only the noble-looking man occasionally glanced over, his gaze cold as ice, as if staring at a corpse.
The woman didn't even turn her head, still focused below, apparently participating in an auction. From the broadcast, it seemed to be the final bid on a male pet.
The man's arm burned in pain from a kick by the young man in black. Dodging, he shifted his focus to those seated.
Capture the king to win the game.
Though he didn't know whether the only woman present had any sway over the three men, he was certain of one thing: using a woman as leverage was nothing short of a despicable act.
But at this moment, he had no choice but to take a gamble; compared to the skilled young man nearby, she was the least dangerous option for a hostage.
Feigning an attack, he made his move, reaching directly for the woman's neck.
Unexpectedly, the young man in black abruptly held back, seemingly cautious, even stepping back. The other two young men also watched him with strange looks, completely still.
The man had no time to ponder the oddity; his hand was already around the woman's neck, taking control.
A light laugh broke the silence. The woman, held firmly by him, remained calm and composed as she made the final bid for the item on display, completely unbothered by the hand at her neck, poised to take her life at any moment.
The highest bid in the room, all for a male pet.
