Despair, the Real Pirate World

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"Hey! Seriously? He's still a slave, and you're only offering ten thousand Beli? We took a huge risk catching him."

"Elwin, do you think I don't know your lot? One look at this guy and it's obvious he's either a beggar or someone who was abandoned. Compared to proper slave-catching crews, this kind of trash is all you can get. If we weren't old acquaintances, I wouldn't even take a slave like this."

"If I could join a real slave-catching crew, would I need to come to a dump of an auction house like yours?"

"Alright, alright. Those big auction houses deal in high-end merchandise. Small places like ours can only cater to the low end."

"Fine, ten thousand Beli it is! It wasn't any trouble catching him anyway. He's yours now."

Dazed and groggy, Ye Chen felt a splitting headache. Vaguely, he heard several men talking nearby.

Shaking his head, Ye Chen forced himself awake. Then terror seized him. He was tightly bound, and from what he had just heard, it seemed he had been caught by slave traders and was about to be sold as a slave.

No matter how foolish Ye Chen was, he knew that once he became a slave, his life would be dark forever.

As for why he could understand and speak their language, it was as natural as knowing the abilities of Devil Fruits. He simply could.

"Oh! You're awake."

As the deal was completed, a sleazy-looking man stood before Ye Chen and slapped his face with the ten thousand Beli he had just received. Laughing loudly, he said, "Thanks for contributing ten thousand Beli."

"Take the money and get lost." The man who had bought Ye Chen was also male. He wore glasses and looked somewhat refined. His name was Anslage, the general manager of a small auction house.

"Bye-bye." Waving the money in his hand, Elwin turned around. His face immediately darkened as he thought, Hmph. Once I join a real slave-catching crew, you'll be begging me.

"Take him away. He's fairly delicate-looking, so plenty of rich old women should like him. We can probably auction him for a few tens of thousands of Beli and make back our money. He's a little skinny, but his skin is soft and tender. Feed him for a few days and he'll be fine."

Anslage waved at the two subordinates beside him. The auction was being held in a few days, and they were still short on slaves with this kind of delicate appearance. He had not expected that thug Elwin to deliver one right to them.

"Yes."

"Let me go! Let me go! What are you doing?!"

Ye Chen struggled. His mind was completely blank, and under the control of the two burly men, he could not break free at all.

Calmness was impossible for a shut-in teenager of sixteen or seventeen who had spent his life in peaceful times, growing up under the red flag. Everything happening now was beyond anything he could imagine.

Panic and struggle were the only normal emotions Ye Chen could display right now.

In the pirate world, sixteen- or seventeen-year-olds were no longer children. In this cruel world, they knew how to survive well. Whether in maturity or adaptability, they were far beyond Ye Chen.

Though Ye Chen had lived to sixteen or seventeen, it was useless. His mentality was still stuck in adolescence. At home, everything revolved around him. He never lacked food or clothes, got whatever he wanted, and did not even know the most basic things—what he should do and what he should not do.

One was a world where people devoured people; the other was a peaceful world. Comparing people of the same age, there was no need to think about it. Someone who had lived in peace and never suffered even the slightest hardship would be utterly useless.

What was more, in that world, even only children in their twenties might be just like Ye Chen—forever unable to grow up, dependent on their mothers, and perhaps completely useless.

Only children who grew through hardship understood what life truly was.

Most importantly, Ye Chen's body was that of a real child, only twelve or thirteen years old. As for his ability? He could only produce a little smoke. What use was that?

"Damn it, settle down!"

Perhaps Ye Chen's struggling had irritated one of the burly men. He punched Ye Chen directly in the stomach.

Ye Chen's eyes bulged at once, his face turning deathly pale. He could not even scream. He only kept dry-heaving, his expression twisted in agony.

It hurt—hurt like nothing he had ever experienced. When had he ever endured such pain? Tears immediately spilled uncontrollably from his eyes.

Holding Ye Chen up with one hand, the burly man spat and snarled viciously, "You'd better stay quiet while you're in my hands, or you'll suffer. I really don't know what those fat old women with strange tastes see in these soft-skinned brats!"

Cursing all the way, the group passed through several streets and arrived before a large dome-shaped building.

After passing through a corridor, Ye Chen was finally thrown into a cell. Around him were slaves of all ages, both men and women. Every one of them either looked terrified or had lost all hope, huddling in a corner with numb eyes.

"Cough, cough."

Curled up on the floor, Ye Chen only felt the churning pain in his stomach ease after a long while. Looking around, he saw many people staring at him numbly, without the slightest trace of hope in their eyes.

Panic filled Ye Chen's mind. He had no idea what to think and could only find a spot and curl up as well.

Time passed second by second. During that time, the guards brought them food.

Yet despite the fairly plentiful food, very few people fought over it. This allowed Ye Chen to eat his fill.

Perhaps after a day, or perhaps two, Ye Chen had completely calmed down. He began observing his surroundings, trying to find a way to escape, but it was all futile.

Most importantly, people gradually began being taken away. When they returned, they were barely alive, with the character for slave carved into their chests or backs.

Ye Chen knew that once the slave mark was carved onto someone, anyone who saw it would know that they had once been a slave.

A few more days passed, and the cell door opened again. Two men entered. One held a notebook and appeared to be recording something, while the other glared fiercely at the slaves in the cells.

"Number 50, that's him. Bring him out and brand him with the slave mark. The auction is in half a month."

The man holding the notebook pointed at Ye Chen and signaled for the burly man beside him to drag Ye Chen out.

Ye Chen's calmness vanished in an instant. His face filled with terror as he struggled desperately, but all he got in return were fists.

Not far away, in a room filled with torture devices, several branding irons engraved with the character for slave were being heated in a blazing brazier until they glowed red.

Bound to a torture device, Ye Chen's face was deathly pale as he watched a large man approach with a red-hot branding iron. He cried out desperately.

"No, no! Please, let me go!"

Ye Chen's pleas only made the large man more excited, because he liked that sound.

Sizzle!

The sound of flesh frying mingled with the smell of burning meat. Ye Chen screamed as tears poured from his eyes like an unstoppable spring.

He simply could not endure such pain. When it reached its limit, Ye Chen closed his eyes, his head drooping as he fainted on the spot.

"His tolerance is too weak. Take him away. Don't let him die. We never make deals at a loss."

The man who had held the notebook earlier looked at Ye Chen as if he were an ant. To him, Ye Chen was merely an object—an object to be sold.

Morality? Kindness? Compassion? None of it existed.

People devouring people was the true face of this world. Strength reigned supreme, and everything was decided by one's fists.