𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🕷️ʄɛɨȶǟռ քօʀȶօʀ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ
Yorknew City's basement was teeming with wealthy men, mobsters, and collectors willing to spend small fortunes on rarities. Chandeliers illuminated the hall, while armed guards watched every entrance. In that place, everything had a price. And that night, the next item up for auction was a girl.
She stood on a small stage, her wrists bound by handcuffs, her eyes wide with fear. Her hair fell across her face, and her fingers trembled as she surveyed the crowd. There was something painfully innocent in her gaze, as if she still couldn't comprehend the cruelty of those people.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" announced the auctioneer, smiling. "We have here a young woman of unusual beauty! Let's start the bidding at one thousand yen!"
The girl lowered her head, trying to hold back tears.
"Two thousand!" shouted a man.
Three thousand!
— Four thousand!
The voices overlapped, and the numbers increased rapidly. To those people, she was nothing more than a commodity.
At the back of the hall, leaning against a column, Feitan Portor watched the scene in silence.
His hands were hidden in his dark sleeves, and his face remained partially covered by his scarf. He had attended the auction for other reasons, but the activity on stage ended up attracting his attention.
His narrowed eyes followed the girl.
She looked like she was about to collapse.
"Five thousand!" announced a buyer, holding up the sign.
The auctioneer smiled with satisfaction.
Five thousand! We have five thousand! Who will offer more?
The girl squeezed her eyes shut, and a tear rolled down her face.
Feitan tilted his head slightly.
— Tch... — he murmured.
The bidding continued until a boy had stepped away from the column —Ten thousand. His expression remained bored, as if he had bought something useless. Feitan's cold voice echoed through the hall. The auctioneer waited for another bid. Silence . No one spoke up. After all, ten thousand was the established limit .
Sold!