Auction House

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the Sabaody Archipelago.

Uchiha Shisui stood outside a human auction house, staring at a huge promotional poster for a long time.

On it, three young Fish-Men were bound in chains, their eyes numb.

The text beside them read: "Rare merchandise! Three Fish-Man brothers! Starting bid: fifty million Belly!"

He frowned slightly.

This world was filthier than he had imagined.

"Would you like to go in, sir?"

An attendant in formal wear approached and asked politely:

"There's a special auction this afternoon. We have quite a few fine lots."

Shisui glanced at him, his black eyes calm and unreadable.

"Lead the way."

"Please follow me."

The attendant led him into the Auction House.

The interior was lavish. Beneath a massive crystal chandelier, rows of seats were already occupied by well-dressed men and women.

They chatted and laughed, pointing at items in their auction catalogs.

Shisui sat in a corner. His Three-Tomoe Sharingan quietly activated, scanning the entire hall.

He spotted several pirates with formidable presences.

He also noticed several people concealed in the shadows, their presences well hidden.

The Auction House's security, perhaps?

"Ladies and gentlemen!"

The auctioneer stepped onto the stage, beaming.

"Welcome to today's special auction! First, let's take a look at our opening lot."

An iron cage was pushed onto the stage. Inside was a gaunt middle-aged man with an explosive collar around his neck.

"A former general from a kingdom in the West Blue, and a master swordsman! Starting bid: eight million Belly!"

"Nine million!"

"Nine and a half million!"

The bids began the moment the auctioneer finished speaking.

Voices rose and fell throughout the lavish hall, filling it with noise.

The swordsman onstage kept his head down in silence, like a lamb awaiting slaughter.

Seated in the shadows of the corner, Uchiha Shisui calmly swept his dark gaze over the men and women raising their paddles.

Nobles, wealthy merchants, brokers from the Underworld, and a handful of pirates with formidable presences.

His gaze lingered on the pirates for an instant.

Three men and one woman sat toward the back of the hall. Their plain clothes were not expensive, but they were clean and neatly pressed.

Their waists bulged. They were clearly carrying hidden weapons.

Their leader was a brown-haired man in his thirties with an old scar across his cheek. He stared at the auction stage, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles had turned white.

Something's wrong with him.

That was Shisui's first impression.

"Twelve million!" a fat noble called, raising his paddle.

The auctioneer beamed. "Twelve million! Any higher? Twelve million, going once."

"Fifteen million."

The voice came from Scarface, hoarse and strained.

The hall fell quiet for a moment. Many turned to look at him, their gazes appraising and amused.

Pirates rarely drew attention to themselves in a place like this.

Unless that particular "lot" meant something to them.

Clearly, such things were hardly unheard of.

The fat noble sneered and lazily raised his paddle again. "Sixteen million."

"Eighteen million!" Scarface nearly growled.

"Twenty million." The noble did not even lift his eyelids.

A companion beside Scarface gripped his shoulder and murmured something.

Scarface's chest heaved. At last, he slumped back into his seat, his bloodshot eyes fixed on the gaunt middle-aged man in the cage.

"Sold for twenty million!" The auctioneer's gavel fell.

Shisui looked away, lifted the cup of tea an attendant had brought him, and took a sip.

The tea was warm, but bitter and cheap.

These were the rules of this world: naked, straightforward, without the slightest attempt at concealment.

The strong preyed on the weak. The highest bidder won.

And here, people were nothing more than merchandise with price tags.

As a ninja, Shisui had seen plenty of darkness.

Betrayal, indiscriminate slaughter, the extermination of entire clans...

But at least in the Ninja World, slavery was officially forbidden.

Here, it was dressed up as an auction and conducted openly beneath glittering crystal lights, accompanied by elegant music.

According to the clan head, this island was even under the Marines' jurisdiction?

What a cruel world.

The auction continued.

Swords, treasures, Devil Fruits (imitations), slaves of rare races...

One lot after another was brought onto the stage, then swallowed up by greedy mouths.

At last, it was the turn of the three young Fish-Men from the poster.

A low murmur of amazement spread through the hall as their iron cage was pushed onto the stage.

Fish-Men were not uncommon in Sabaody, but three brothers so young and in such good condition were a rare find.

"Ladies and gentlemen!"

The auctioneer's voice trembled slightly with excitement.

"Next comes today's main event! Three brothers from Fish-Man Island, all under sixteen, healthy and full of potential! Whether as laborers, bodyguards, or..."

He gave a suggestive smile.

"For certain special purposes, they're an excellent choice! Starting bid—fifty million Belly!"

"Fifty-five million!"

"Sixty million!"

The bidding immediately turned fierce.

Shisui saw Scarface clench his fists again, his eyes locked on the three boys in the cage.

Beside him, one of his companions—

a red-haired woman—gripped his arm tightly. Her lips moved as though she were saying something.

"Eighty million!" a merchant with a monocle called, raising his paddle.

"Eighty-five million!" another noble countered.

The price quickly climbed to one hundred million.

Scarface was trembling. The red-haired woman spoke urgently into his ear.

He lowered his head and covered his face with both hands, his shoulders shaking faintly.

Shisui looked away.

Clearly, these pirates knew the three boys onstage.

But he was no savior. He could not rescue everyone suffering in this world.

In a world this strange and dangerous, he was even less willing to act rashly.

"One hundred and twenty million!" a lazy voice rang out.

The speaker sat in the front row. He was one of the people the clan head had described as wearing a strange bubble over his head.

A Celestial Dragon: Saint Charlos.

He idly picked at his ear with his little finger, as if he had called out an insignificant number rather than a vast sum.

The entire hall went silent.

No one dared bid against a Celestial Dragon.

That was an ironclad rule in Sabaody—no, in the entire world.

The auctioneer wiped away his sweat.

"Saint Charlos bids one hundred and twenty million! Any higher? One hundred and twenty million, going once."

Then, without warning, everything changed!

"Now!"

A roar exploded from the middle rows!

Scarface sprang up, a curved blade somehow already in his hand. Its gleaming edge slashed toward the iron cage!

Almost simultaneously, his three companions moved!

The red-haired woman drew two pistols from her waist and fired precise shots at the guards on the auction stage.

Of the two other pirates, one lunged for the mechanism controlling the cage, while the other charged the auctioneer, trying to seize the key!

"We're under attack!"

"Protect the merchandise!"

The Auction House erupted into chaos!