Chapter 171 Rusty Iron
The Bloody Market is divided into different areas. In the lowest-level Rusty Iron Market, rusty chains drag across the bluestone slabs, making clanging sounds that get closer and closer. The stench of feces, blood, and corpses mixes with the salty sea breeze. The only clean snow left on the ground has long been trampled into rotten mud.
A long line of newly arrived slaves, their hands bound with hemp ropes and their feet shackled with chains, had skin of varying shades, some even had the unique paleness of the Sylvies - the Sylvies were the main ethnic group in the Silver Iris Empire, and according to Silver Iris law, trafficking in one's own citizens could easily cause unnecessary trouble.
But this is a corner where the law does not reach and crime grows rampantly.
The spring was chilly, yet the slaves wore only a thin layer of rags. All the young male slaves were naked, so the slave traders could smear oil on them to give them a false sheen, demonstrating that their skin was free of ulcers and back deformities, and that they could handle the heavy labor they would be sold to as slave laborers in mines and on plantations.
Female slaves were sold individually, some with faded red bands tied around their wrists, signifying they had once given birth to healthy babies. A pregnant slave huddled in the corner of a wooden cage, accompanied by a two or three-year-old child. Her expression was dazed, and her swollen fingers subconsciously protected her bulging belly, as if protecting the last seeds of wheat.
The slave trader, standing on a wooden barrel, shouted loudly and vigorously until he had attracted the attention of most of the market, and then he suddenly lifted the girl's burqa, revealing her honey-colored skin with a pearly sheen.
"Ten gold coins! Only ten gold coins!" the slave trader shouted, whip raised. "A purebred Daba mare! Look at that beautiful fur! Look at those deep green eyes! Whether you want to collect or play with her, this is the best choice you'll find at the Rusty Iron Market!"
The girl screamed and cried, trying to cover her naked body, but was soon scolded and her arms were pulled away. Countless hands pinched her thighs and examined the old scars on her ankles. The slave traders roughly pried open her mouth and showed her smooth and strong teeth to everyone.
An old slave girl with gray hair was screaming and crying like crazy in the audience. She tried to rush forward, but was quickly dragged to the ground. She was the mother of the girl being auctioned.
The slave traders were not polite to such goods that could not be sold at a high price. They whipped the old slave woman fiercely, and every whip caused blood to splatter. Soon, the old slave woman only had the strength to fall to the ground and groan.
"Red Snake", who was in charge of the Rusty Iron Market, watched this scene coldly. The accountant beside him was closely following the progress of the auction and calculating the fees that both buyers and sellers needed to pay to the Bloody Market.
"Goods of this quality should be relegated to the Silver Market," Red Snake instructed his men in a cold voice. "Deal with the bribed auditor, and then tell the seller of the 'Daba Mare' to either pay triple the fee or kill the slave girl and get out of the Bloody Market. Those who don't follow the rules are not welcome here."
But before he could get a response, he heard a hoarse voice suddenly speak from behind him: "Are you 'Red Snake'?"
Red Snake's body stiffened and he turned his head suddenly, only to see a cloaked man standing behind him with a sinister look.
The man slowly raised his face, revealing a sallow complexion on the half of his face exposed under the hood, with a deep scar running from the corner of his mouth to the bridge of his nose.
Behind him were three people whose faces were also covered by cloaks, and the sound of chains clashing could be faintly heard.
"I'm Red Snake." This guy was definitely a sorcerer, and his strength surpassed his own. Red Snake calmly took a step back, the dagger slipping from his hidden hand as he respectfully asked, "Respected sir, what may I do for you?"
The man gave a strange smile and said, "They told me that if they have any good stuff, they'll come to you."
"You should go find the capital verification personnel," Red Snake said cautiously. "They will determine whether the goods are worthy of being allocated to the Silver Market based on their quality. You only need to pay a fee, and we will provide you with the safest and most thoughtful service."
"Silver Market?" The man made a rough sound in his throat, and the scar on his face suddenly twisted like a centipede. "No, I want to go to the Gold Market."
Red Snake's expression remained unchanged. "The Gold Market only accepts the highest-grade goods, and you will need to pay an entrance fee of one hundred gold coins."
The other person snorted softly and simply lifted the cloak from the head of the person behind him. In the slightly dim morning light, that face seemed to gather all the light in the world. Red Snake's pupils suddenly dilated for a moment. He held his breath and instinctively took a step forward, trying to see more clearly - but the mysterious guest had already very stingily covered the dirty rag with a quick pull, pressing it against the flowing golden hair.
What a waste of nature's gift, Red Snake thought bitterly. A beauty of this stature deserved only the finest silks and the most expensive jewels. But even the brightest sapphire in the world would be reduced to stone before those eyes. Those distinguished, perverted, yet incredibly wealthy figures at the gold auction would absolutely go crazy for him. Especially Duke Kamu, whose penchant for beautiful blond boys...
He reluctantly turned his gaze away, suppressed his excitement, and managed to maintain his professionalism: "He has a magic-suppressing collar around his neck. Is he a warlock?"
"Indeed." The mysterious guest sneered, "A sorcerer of the low-level apostle class. But I suppose this is a selling point for you?"
Red Snake's eyes turned serious. "You know, the Bloody Market will avoid all risks for its distinguished guests, so the other party's identity..."
Making money was important, but they didn't want to get into trouble just to make money. A beauty of this level was precious, but she was also a powerful sorcerer, which immediately made her meaning different.
If it is the young master of a prince or nobleman, it will be a big trouble.
The mysterious guest sneered: "Why, you don't dare to answer?"
The red snake was silent for a moment, weighing the pros and cons before gritting its teeth and bowing respectfully to the unhurried mysterious guest. "Please come with me. This is not a good place to talk."
But when Red Snake left the bustling Rusty Iron Market and came to the sufficiently secret trading room, he closed the door and before he could even open his mouth, he stood there in a daze, his eyes blind.
"The slave trader told you that he's just the son of a commoner, reduced to slavery because he offended a powerful figure. As for the other two slaves? They're nothing compared to him... You've never seen such perfect merchandise. It's even worthy of being the centerpiece of a gold auction, and it's sure to fetch an unprecedented price. If you can facilitate this deal, you might even earn the Bloody Duke's favor and leave the Rusted Iron Market."
These words were all narrated slowly and leisurely by the "goods" himself. As his gentle and pleasant words were spoken, the expression on Red Snake's face gradually became relaxed and joyful, as if he had really seen this scene.
"But only if you don't let those greedy colleagues steal the credit." Azuka paused, and a look of resentment appeared on Red Snake's face. "What should we do? The recent auction on the day of the gods' sacrifice was enough for some people to curry favor with the higher-ups. That shameless 'Short Knife' will definitely be the first to claim the credit..."
Only when Red Snake's expression grew increasingly anxious did he continue, offering gentle persuasion, "So you decided to hide the goods until the day before the festival and then hand them over to the Gold Market... That's right, you just wanted to be more cautious and thoroughly check the source and specific conditions of the goods..."
Ole, disguised as a slave trader, crossed his arms and watched his friend cast a spell. Until Red Snake began to mutter, "I should do this." "I just want to be cautious." He sneered and said sarcastically in his original voice, "The old man's men are still the same."
The professor had already lifted his hood and was wandering around the trading room as if no one was around, touching things here and there.
Maxine stood sideways at the window, where she could see the auction scene just now.
"Someone bought the Daba girl for thirty gold coins." She suddenly said.
Nova also took a closer look: "...Not good."
He frowned. "When the other party was bidding, I remember his left hand was mutilated. He cut it himself. I suspect it has something to do with the Child of Life."
If his judgment was correct, the Daba girl's fate would be quite miserable.
A solemn expression appeared on the red-haired girl's face. She hesitated for a moment and was about to speak when she heard His Majesty suddenly say, "Go and do it."
With determination, as if he already knew what she was going to do.
Maxine widened her eyes slightly. “But won’t this hinder your plans?”
"My plans always have a huge margin for error; a minor incident like this wouldn't cause failure." The other man glanced at her with complete arrogance. "Besides, given your personality, you wouldn't sit idly by even if I objected."
Because this is the protagonist camp of the hot-blooded youth comics.
The heroine was silent for a moment, then suddenly took a deep breath, took a step forward, and hugged the other person with the least amount of force, but still lifted the person's feet off the ground.
A rare blank look appeared on the black-haired tyrant's face. Before he could say anything, the red-haired girl gently put him down, said thank you, and turned and ran out.
Ole, who watched everything, said: "Wow."
He looked at someone with ill intent—his usual perfect smile, but from his understanding of people, this guy was probably suppressing his overwhelming possessiveness, forcing himself not to overreact to "normal social interaction."
Tsk tsk, pathetic guy.
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