Before long, Werther followed Rayleigh to the Auction House he had mentioned. Just as they were about to enter, two guards in ridiculous outfits stopped them at the door.
"Hold it. What do you want? The Auction hasn't started yet. No one's allowed inside."
One of the guards at the door spoke with open hostility, eyeing the pair with disdain.
A shabby old man and an ordinary-looking young man. Neither looked remotely wealthy.
Before Werther could speak, Rayleigh stepped in. He was afraid Werther would attack on the spot, and then their extortion scheme would be ruined.
"We're not here for the Auction. We're here to sell slaves."
The guard understood. So these two were in the same business. But why hadn't he seen them before? And where were the slaves they wanted to sell?
"Where are your slaves? And which Slave-Trading Crew are you with? If you're one of our regular partners, we can raise our purchase price a little."
Rayleigh smiled and waved a hand.
"No, you've misunderstood. We are here to sell slaves, but we're selling ourselves."
"What? You're saying the two of you want to sell yourselves as slaves?"
The guard couldn't make sense of it. Why would they sell themselves? Didn't they know the auction house would keep whatever money the sale brought in? Their families would never see a coin.
"Oh. In that case, go on in."
With that, the guard stopped looking at Rayleigh and Werther. It was as though the two were already dead, not worth another glance.
Once inside the Auction House, Rayleigh felt something was off.
"Werther, I didn't expect you to hold back from killing that guard. That's not like you."
"What are you talking about? Do I look that petty?"
Werther tossed aside the Two Hearts in his