Iron Blooded Hound

Chapter 35 - 35 : The Auction

Chapter 35: Chapter 35 : The Auction

Night. The edges of Dark Horse City.

For reasons unknown, extravagance carriages have accumulated in huge numbers in an empty parcel at the rear of the city where nobody typically comes.

Dark tents cover the colossal clearing.

Covered blue-bloods and well-off men followed into the sleeping quarters.

Today is the day of the slave auction. Normally, a slave auction isn't formally reported to Baskerville.

Thus, the slaves being sold here are undeclared merchandise.

There were many individuals who couldn't be traded as slaves in any case.

Brutes displaced from their homes, aristocrats from far-off lands, or average people abducted all of a sudden.

They were fastened, peddled, or sedated to where their will to escape or report was totally broken.

Or they were goods that would be.

"Welcome, welcome, welcome. Welcome to this evening's 'crack show,' indeed, indeed, come, come, come."

A jester dressed as Pierrot invites the crowd.

Then, a middle-aged man strolls before the jester.

The middle-aged man, who has a long goatee and a fairly messy appearance, continues to glance around to see what's so disrupting.

The jester really looks at the middle-aged man's credentials.

"Gee. Mr. Montblanc the Chihuahua. Ok, so you're from the Montblanc family, and your breathtaking mark is a Montblanc brand name that no other person can duplicate. ... ... ?"

The comedian snatched a middle-aged man named Chihuahua Montblanc as he attempted to allow him to pass.

The Chihuahua is apparently bothered.

The jester squinted at him and said.

"I see the reason for your visit on your authentication says haven't arrived to purchase slaves, yet to sell... ... ?"

"Ah. Truth be told. I came to sell them."

"What might be said about available to be purchased?"

"Indeed, I have him restricted in the back there for some time, and I've just got one at any rate, and he's a youthful chap, so he doesn't occupy a lot of space."

The comedian sneered and dodged his head once more.

"I see," he said, "the Montblancs generally purchase slaves in mass, and since you're here to sell this time, I was contemplating whether you could have done without the ones you purchased last time and needed to dispose of them."

The Chihuahua cleared the perspiration off of his temple with a cloth and shook his head.

"No, sir. I'm constantly happy with the nature of the slaves I purchase here."

"Right? Truth be told, we only sell carefully chosen slaves. We kidnap brute ladies, plebeians, and youthful aristocrats from far-off territories who have lost their families and homes and have no place else to go, and we train them like rodents and birds. They are respectful and never consider taking off or revolting, and we ensure their quality."

The jester went to the Chihuahua and bowed graciously again.

"I might want to stretch out a generous greeting to the Oddity Show."

* * *

There was an odd tension in the auctioning room.

Under a dimness of hookah and tobacco smoke, cloaked people sat in a circle around all important focal point.

Here were all the influential people of the longshot underground economy.

A woman in a butterfly veil salivates at seeing a stripped brute male slave in front of an audience, while a man of his word in a bat cover salivates at seeing a soldier of fortune male slave in front of an audience.

There was no way to see a public for the things that surfaced in front of an audience at the auction house.

There were objects - old urns, popular masterpieces, sharp swords - and there were interesting creatures and ponies, and there were individuals marked as slaves.

However, for the well-off individuals who gathered here, the distinction was a good one.

They're accustomed to seeing articles, creatures, and individuals as exactly the same thing.

The veiled dignitaries, their mouths covered by fans, were visiting among themselves.

"I hear it's extremely popular in the Supreme capital these days to catch and show abnormal looking slaves?"

"I don't give a lot of consideration to styles like that, I simply figure a slave ought to be pretty and attractive, there's nothing more to it."

"I don't have the foggiest idea, slaves should be great working or great at battling, right?"

"Hahaha, I'm attracted to the unfortunate past that slaves have, which is the reason I favor them to come from fallen honorability or seized respectability."

"All things considered, no difference either way. I trust there are a lot of slaves accessible today."

Most of the attention was on the slaves.

The emcee, dressed as a jester, stepped onto the stage and yelled as loud as possible.

"Yes! This sword and safeguard, definitely a remnant of an old civilization, has gone for 30 million gold! Any longer? All hail the snake-covered man around there who will bring back home this fortunate piece of defensive layer! Presently, on to the following thing available to be purchased! Everybody, check this delightful jeweled crown out! It probably been worn by a ruler of a dead realm some place in the set of experiences books... ... ."

Then.

The eyes of the crowd, which had been focused on the slaves, unexpectedly snapped to attention.

It was anything but a person, but concentrating in the space briefly was enough.

A dark bison covered in fit muscle.

It has gigantic horns, an enormous body, and three glaring eyes.

<Fiendish Bison 'Murcielago'

Risk Rating: A

Size: 3 meters

Seen as in: Red and Dark Mountains, Edge 2

-A kind of cattle that occupies the Oil Domain in the depths of Misery.

It is said to have nineteen hearts and won't quit charging until they are undeniably halted.

It was a colossal monster that occupied the Foe and Dark Mountains.

However, the reason for why nobody takes off when this beast shows up on stage is straightforward.

This Murcielago was dead.

The emcee yelled.

"Presently, this sale is a stolen kill from the knights of the Baskervilles, a valuable, Risk Rank A monster, with its hide, meat, bones, insides, and all the other things in excess!"

There were nineteen injuries on the Damnation Bison's body.

Evidently, it had just died after its heart was destroyed.

The price of this body immediately started to soar.

"100,000,000 gold!"

"120 million!"

"140 million!"

"190 million!"

"200 million!"

"250 million!"

The whole auction hall erupts in excitement, even though the human slaves are not.

Having sold the carcass of a hell bison at a good price, the emcee made a move to lead the auction decisively.

"Presently it's the ideal opportunity for the closeout for people and their kind!"

With that, people of different sorts started to walk onto the stage.

A savage man with a dead look in his eyes as though he had abandoned everything, a captured aristocrat crying and asking to be sent home, an unnerved everyday citizen child who still had no clue about where he was, and a fallen aristocrat shouting that she would prefer to be killed

.

"100,000,000!"

"200,000,000!"

"200 and 50,000!"

"Take it and 7,000 more!"

"I got that bitch, nobody can contact her!"

"You're being crazy. Get more cash."

The more they cry and shout and hopelessness, the more the frenzy of the people surrounding the stage intensifies.

Suddenly.

The emcee, buoyed by the energetic sales, suddenly looks surprised.

"...? Huh? Huh? You put this one available to be purchased, as well? Huh? G, truly? Gracious, OK, I'll check whether I can sell it."

He stammers, as though he's experiencing difficulty communicating with the men in the back.

He pulls it together and proceeds.

"Presently, this next one is somewhat unique, somewhat more engaging, nevertheless has a lot of opportunity to get better!"

In other words, even the slave traders aren't yet completely in control.

After the slave was carefully wrapped, the emcee dragged it to the center of the stage.

Unlike before, this time the slave was locked in a sturdy metal cage.

"Kaaaah!"

A series of throaty screams erupted.

Inside the cage, a brute young girl with a rough face was rampaging frantically.

She appeared to be around 17 years old.

She had black hair mixed with silver, triangular pointed ears, and a face that was a dark variation, yet it seemed as though it had been spread with ashes and was typically a light brown.

She wore a choker with thorns around her neck, and the animal skins she wore as clothing were little more than rags.

Looking through the rags, her body was toned and lean, yet her face was unrecognizable through the ashes, and she was growling and snapping so fiercely that nobody dared to raise a bid.

"! ??? ?? ????. ???? ????. ??? ????? ????"

A language I don't comprehend by any means.

Besides, the smell of animal defecation that had been wafting across the stage since earlier, and the stench that seemed to have not been washed in years, made the aristocrats turn away with disgust on their faces.

"... ... Ah, who purchases this?"

Surely it's enough to make even a jester talking to himself.

Nevertheless, he had to sell, so he did his best to make his case.

"Come on, come on, slave traders say they've gotten this one from the depths of the jungle! Come on, come on, wouldn't you say a slave this savage could use some taming? Use her as a night guard or a warrior! This is your chance to prove your slave subduing skills! I'll start the bidding at 5 million! Let's go!"

....

But, no one raised their hand.

Usually there's someone who calls out the lowest bid, for the moderator's sake and the atmosphere of the auction house, but... ... this time there wasn't even that.

"Eight, then let's lower the minimum bid a little, 3 million, anyone got 3 million?"

....

"Then you don't have it either! 2,000,000! I'll take it at 2,000,000! I'll say it again, you don't have it either!"

....

"Okay, okay, okay, 1,000,000! I'll take 1,000,000 with my eyes shut! Take her and boil her for human consumption! I'll sell her for nothing more than meat!"

....

But, ultimately, no one raised their hand.

The moderator snorted and waved his hand.

"Forget it. This isn't selling. I told you, only put up guaranteed items. Get them backstage, and use a loudmouth afterward, I need."

Soon the slave handlers were on stage, pulling down the cage that held the brute young girl.

The girl even managed to bite off the finger of the handler holding the cage, tearing it off.

The atmosphere in the auction hall became chaotic.

The organizers had to control it somehow.

So how did they react?

The emcee knew it was time to bring out the big guns.

"Attention, ladies and gentlemen, jumo~ok, look out, because I have what I consider the highlight of the day right now!"

And then. A man stepped onto the stage.

A boy with cuffs on his wrists and heavy chains hanging from them.

He appeared to be around 15 years old.

Despite the weight of the restraints, the boy's stride is effortless.

There was a faint murmur of admiration from the audience at his confident and calm demeanor.

As he stands at the center of the stage, the torchlight from above illuminates his face.

The boy's appearance was revealed in a glow of light.

And the audience's jaws dropped as one.

"...Wow."

The expressions of all the aristocrats and some of the middle-aged men gathered here had become astonished.

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