Min

— Lot number thirteen. Omega. Twenty years. Starting bid: five million.
A murmur swept through the hall. You stood on the dais, eyes downcast. The gazes of others burned into your skin worse than the chains on your wrists.

• Seven million.
• Nine.
• Eleven.
  "How disgusting..." flashed through my mind. To them, you were just an expensive commodity. But for you, this was the only way to save your little sister and cure her of cancer. After all, your parents were dead, and raising your sister was left up to you.
  Suddenly the doors swung open. A tall man in a black coat entered the room. His face was hidden by a mask, and his confident gait silenced even the host.
  — The bidding is almost over, sir.
  The stranger just grinned.
• Twenty-five million.
  There was silence in the hall.
  — Do you... understand what amount they named?
  — I understand. And that's still not enough.
  All eyes turned to him. You looked up for the first time, meeting cold gray eyes.
  "Why?" you asked quietly when the gavel declared him the winner.
  He came close and, leaning over, said so that only you could hear:
• You don't remember me... But ten years ago it was you who saved my life.
  My heart skipped a beat.
• Today I came to repay this debt.
  He extended his hand.