Chapter 35: Slave Auction (1)
Night. The outskirts of Underdog City.
For so reason, luxury carriages have gathered in droves in a vacant lot at the back of the city where no one usually cos.
Black tents cover the huge clearing.
Masked aristocrats and wealthy n stalked into the barracks.
Today is the day of the slave auction. Naturally, it is a slave auction that is not officially reported to Baskerville.
As such, the slaves being sold here are undeclared goods.
There were many people who could not be traded as slaves in the first place.
Barbarians displaced from their hos, nobles from distant lands, or commoners kidnapped out of nowhere.
They were chained, hawked, or drugged to the point where their will to escape or report was completely broken.
Or they were commodities that would be.
"Welco, welco, welco. Welco to tonight's 'freak show', yes, yes, co, co, co."
A clown dressed as Pierrot welcos the audience.
Next, a middle-aged man walks in front of the clown.
The middle-aged man, who has a long goatee and a sowhat scruffy appearance, keeps looking around to see what's so unsettling.
The clown checked the middle-aged man's credentials.
"Hmmm hmmm. Mr Montblanc the Chihuahua. Ah, so you're from the Montblanc family, and your fabulous signature is a Montblanc trademark that no one else can copy. ...?"
The clown grabbed a middle-aged man nad Chihuahua Montblanc as he tried to let him pass.
The Chihuahua is visibly flustered.
The clown squinted at him and said.
"I see the purpose of your visit on your certificate says you're not here to buy slaves, but to sell...?"
"Ah. That's right. I ca to sell them."
"What about for sale?"
"Well, I've got him tied up in the back there for a while, and I've only got one anyway, and he's a young lad, so he doesn't take up much room."
The clown smirked and ducked his head again.
"I see," he said, "the Montblancs always buy slaves in bulk, and since you're here to sell this ti, I was wondering if you didn't like the ones you bought last ti and wanted to get rid of them."
The Chihuahua wiped the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief and shook his head.
"No, sir. I'm always satisfied with the quality of the slaves I buy here."
"Isn't that right? That's right, we only sell carefully selected slaves. We kidnap barbarian won, commoners, and young noblen from distant provinces who have lost their families and hos and have nowhere else to go, and we train them like rats and birds. They are obedient and never think of running away or rebelling, and we guarantee their quality."
The clown turned to the Chihuahua and bowed politely once more.
"I would like to extend a hearty welco to the Freak Show."
* * *
There was a strange tension in the auction room.
Under a haze of hookah and tobacco smoke, masked n and won sat in a circle around centre stage.
Here were all the movers and shakers of the underdog underground economy.
A lady in a butterfly mask salivates at the sight of a naked barbarian male slave on stage, while a gentleman in a bat mask salivates at the sight of a rcenary male slave on stage.
There was no discernible public for the things that ca up on stage at the auction house.
There were objects – old urns, famous works of art, sharp swords – and there were rare animals and horses, and there were people branded as slaves.
But for the wealthy people who gathered here, the distinction was a good one.
They're used to seeing objects, animals, and people as the sa thing.
The masked dignitaries, their mouths covered by fans, were chatting amongst themselves.
"I hear it's all the rage in the Imperial capital these days to capture and display grotesque-looking slaves?"
"I don't pay much attention to fashions like that, I just think a slave should be pretty and handso, that's all."
"I don't know, slaves are supposed to be good at work or good at fighting, aren't they?"
"Hahaha, I'm drawn to the tragic past that slaves have, which is why I prefer them to co from fallen nobility or kidnapped nobility."
"Well, whatever. I hope there are plenty of slaves available today."
Most of the attention was on the slaves.
The emcee, dressed as a clown, stepped onto the stage and shouted at the top of his lungs.
"Yes! This sword and shield, surely a relic of an ancient civilisation, has gone for 30 million gold! Any more? All hail the snake-masked man over there who will take ho this lucky piece of armour! Now, on to the next item for sale! Everyone, look at this beautiful jewelled crown! It must have been worn by a king of a defunct kingdom sowhere in the history books...."
Then.
The eyes of the crowd, which had been focused on the slaves, suddenly snapped to attention.
It wasn't a human being, but it was enough to focus all the attention in the room for a mont.
A black buffalo covered in lean muscle.
It has huge horns, a massive body, and three glaring eyes.
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