Chapter 7
When I walked out of that small room again, I saw many women like me squatting to one side, their faces showing both terror and numbness.
I calmly walked toward Jeffrey: "Jeffrey, I'm ready."
I was wearing a low-cut dress that showed off every curve of my body. The moment I stepped out, someone laughed mockingly and teased, "Forget the face - dressed up like that, she's actually pretty hot. Jeffrey, if we can't move the merchandise, at least we can have some fun with her later."
Jeffrey spat harshly: "As I recalled that face, I get nightmares easily." He said to his men, "You guys, get them in the vehicles first. Those guarding the back, bring your tools. If anyone acts up, beat them to death - I'll take responsibility."
We were loaded into vehicles. After who knows how long, when we got out, I seemed to be in a bustling street market with people coming and going, like a normally functioning city. I could even hear vendors calling out from the roadside.
Was this the black market they'd been talking about?
"Everyone entering the auction house, leave all firearms here. Those who defy this order shall be permanently banned and barred for life from trading on the black market." A stern voice announced.
"Mr. Lopez, you're here today too? Please come in, please come in." The previously serious voice suddenly took on a flattering tone.
Aiden, standing beside me, muttered quietly: "Jeffrey, look at these snobbish bastards..."
"I'm here to see if there's any good merchandise. Is there a lot today?" A low, magnetic voice asked softly.
"Plenty. Mr. Oscar Lopez, you have good taste - you might find something you like today." The flattering voice still carried a smile.
"Michael Johnson is here too?" Someone said quietly, and the previously lively atmosphere suddenly seemed to freeze.
A series of messy footsteps approached from far away.
"Mr. Johnson, it's rare for you to grace us with your presence today. I'll arrange for someone to take you both inside right away." The flattering voice grew even more obsequious.
"No need, I still know the way." His voice carried no warmth. "Mr. Lopez, you're harder to get rid of than gum on my shoe."
"Don't make fun of me, Mr. Johnson. I'm here to stock up, of course. I heard your company's been laying people off lately. Are you here today just to watch the show?"
"If there's a show to watch, that wouldn't be bad either," Oscar said coldly.
Oscar? Michael?
Judging from the auction house manager's attitude toward them, perhaps these two were the truly powerful ones here.
But how could I get such powerful people to remember me?
I couldn't worry about that now. I wasn't far from them. Wearing high heels, I pretended to lose my balance and fell toward them. As long as I bumped into one of them, either one would do.
But my luck was a bit off - no one caught me as I fell. My injured right hand hit the ground, and sharp pain suddenly shot like a needle from my palm straight to my heart. The pain made me gasp, and I trembled as I tried to stand up.
A large hand steadied my wrist: "Such carelessness isn't good."
It was Oscar's voice from earlier, with a light laugh. He pulled me up from the ground.
"Thank you." I tried to make my voice as gentle as possible. Since I had this opportunity, I had to seize it. I grabbed the back of his hand and quickly said in a low voice: "Buy me, and I can help you make more money."
"What a real gentleman you are." Michael's voice rang out coldly nearby. With a cold snort, he quickly led his people inside.
Oscar said nothing. He gently pushed my hand away and turned to go inside too.
He must have heard what I said. I'd tried my best to make my voice sound appealing. From his voice, he seemed like a gentleman - I could only hope he'd take pity and buy me.
"Everyone, behave yourselves. Now that you're here, drop those little schemes, or you'll die faster." Jeffrey's cold voice rang out again. "Tie them up and bring them in."
Our hands were simply bound with rope, and we were led to some place within.
"Here are your number tags. Don't remove your hoods until you're successfully auctioned. Remember your number - when it's called, that number walks up on stage. Behave and suffer less. Got it?" A rough voice sounded in my ear. As he spoke, he kicked a girl.
"Don't be so fucking timid. Can you sell for a good price like that? If you don't sell well, you'll be waiting to get gang-raped when you go back."
The thought of not being sold was far worse than the prospect of being auctioned away… because I could hear, clear as a blade’s edge, the ragged gasp of the girl beside me in fear.
The auction began. One by one, the people tied with us were led away. Some never came back, while others were led back crying.
Finally, when it was my turn, someone pulled the rope and led me up the steps.
"Now presenting our mystery beauty box - 5'6", 108 pounds, measurements 34-24-35, college-educated with high IQ. And here's the kicker - bidding starts at rock bottom, just $48K. That's money in the bank, gentlemen! Any interested buyers can start placing their bids now."
"This girl is hot, though she has some scars on her body; she should be fine after some recovery..."
"With such a low starting bid, she's definitely defective. She probably doesn't look good."
Below, a clamour of voices rose. Standing upon the stage, I cast aside all sense of shame, slowly shifting my stance, striving to strike an alluring pose.
"I bid one hundred thousand dollars." A somewhat familiar voice rang out not far away. If I wasn't mistaken, this should be Oscar.
I was secretly pleased. If it was him, no matter what form it took, as long as I could secure some living space for myself, he could become my ally.
"Two hundred thousand dollars," Michael said coldly.
Somewhat unexpected. I didn't know what their relationship was, but if Michael was also very powerful, I could accept that, too.
"Three hundred thousand dollars." Oscar raised the bid calmly.
"Six hundred thousand dollars." Michael followed immediately without thinking.
I could only pray that, whether they had a grudge or were just competing out of spite, they wouldn't ruin my chances.
"Mr. Johnson, you've already snatched so many people from me tonight. Shouldn't that be enough?" Oscar said in a leisurely tone.
"I'm not short, but I like her. Mr. Lopez, bid for yourself - why are you watching me?" Michael's voice carried wild arrogance.
"Fine, let's see how long you can keep up. One million dollars." Oscar chuckled and raised the bid again.
"Two million dollars." Michael's tone remained flat, making everyone else gasp.
"Buying her back for two million would definitely be a loss, right?"
"Unless she's top-tier merchandise - if they livestream her, they might make it back in minutes. Since they're fighting so hard over her, did the black market tip them off? Should we try to compete?"
Next came the murmurs of those nearby.
"Can you outbid them?"
"Three million dollars." Oscar's voice suddenly rose above the murmuring.
"Six million dollars." Michael followed right behind.
"Ten million dollars."
"Twenty million dollars."
"Mr. Johnson, are you sure?" Oscar smirked, though his tone was already somewhat unsteady.
"Mr. Lopez, just stay out of my business."
"Thirty million dollars." Oscar suddenly laughed and raised the bid again. Sweat was about to seep from my palms.
Was this Michael an idiot, wasn't he? If Oscar had been genuinely competing at first, now he was deliberately making him spend more money.
"Fifty million dollars."
"Congratulations, Mr. Johnson. She's yours." Oscar's voice was full of pleasure, speaking before the auction house staff could.
"Fifty million dollars once, fifty million dollars twice, fifty million dollars three times - sold! Remove the sign."
"Mr. Johnson, can you let us see this premium merchandise, too? I'm really curious now - this is the first time such a high price has been paid." Someone laughed, stirring up the crowd.
"Unbox it." Michael's voice carried pride, like a general who'd won a battle.