The cries sounded like the wails of a young animal with its throat clenched tight-heart-rending, their shrill notes steeped in inescapable despair and pain.
Such wailing should have fit right into a place like this. After all, anguished screams were commonplace in this hellish slave clearance market. But this voice was too faint, too full of pain, like a plea for help seeping through a crack. He simply could not pretend he hadn't heard it.
It sounds like a child...
"Boss..." Bruce stopped too, his amber eyes turning uneasily toward the cage hidden in the darkness.
"What was that sound?" Chuan Wenwu turned and went back inside the tent, asking the slave trader in a low voice.
"Oh... ah! You mean that? There's just a restless little thing locked up in there. Don't mind her. I'll quiet her down right away..." The slave trader's eyes flickered as he rubbed his hands together and gave an awkward laugh.
"Take me to see her." Chuan Wenwu cut him off without breaking stride and headed straight toward the screams. The slave trader had no choice but to follow.
They passed through the outer area and pushed open a creaking wooden door, entering a space even more cramped than the one outside. A single oil lamp, close to going out, hung from a beam. Its dim yellow light barely illuminated a rust-covered iron cage in the corner-a tiny figure was curled up inside, clutching her head and sobbing.
Her voice had already begun to grow hoarse, yet she kept screaming desperately, as though she had lost control of her own body, as though she wouldn't stop until she coughed her lungs out.
Chuan Wenwu approached with lighter steps. As the lamplight fell across the figure, he finally saw what she looked like-a little girl who seemed only about ten, her body as scrawny as a malnourished bean sprout. A tattered piece of burlap wrapped around her barely covered her body.
She had a pair of gray-brown raccoon ears, now drooping limply, their tips stained with dried blood. Strands of tangled brown hair clung to her dust-covered face, leaving only her wide, bloodshot eyes visible. There wasn't a trace of light in her pupils, only dense, impenetrable fear. Like a young animal trapped in a nightmare, she trembled like a dead leaf in the wind, even her fingertips twitching uncontrollably.
"What's wrong with her?" Chuan Wenwu turned back to ask.
The slave trader glanced impatiently at the figure shaking like a leaf inside the cage. "She's a raccoon Demi-Human with panic disorder. She's very mentally unstable and suddenly starts screaming from time to time. A real handful. I put her here because I didn't want her disturbing the other 'goods'-I'll quiet her down now."
As he spoke, he kicked the cage bars with the toe of his shoe. The iron cage gave a loud clang, but the girl inside seemed not to notice and continued her hoarse screaming.
"Unruly little thing..." the slave trader muttered. Feeling that she had made him lose face, he immediately raised his arm to activate the curse markings and punish the disobedient Demi-Human child.
Smack!
Chuan Wenwu seized his wrist, stopping him.
"That's going too far. She's just a child." Chuan Wenwu kept his voice very low.
"Cruel?"
The slave trader reacted as though he'd heard a joke. He struggled to pull his hand free, but, afraid of truly angering the hero, he could only defend himself resentfully:
"Sir Hero, it's good that you're kindhearted, but don't go wasting that kindness on my merchandise! I only want to quiet her down-if she keeps howling and gets the other slaves worked up, it'll only cause more trouble!"
The moment he finished speaking, a muffled groan came from the cage-
"Ugh!"
Chuan Wenwu turned to find that the little raccoon girl had let out a groan and fainted.
"!"
Chuan Wenwu snapped his head back toward the slave trader, who said with perfect composure, "There's something you don't know, Sir Hero. A slave's curse markings don't have to be activated by snapping your fingers. You can set all sorts of other activation conditions. Simply thinking about it works too."
"..."
Chuan Wenwu fell silent for a long moment, then looked back at the girl, whose condition seemed far from good. His voice was strained. "She's in terrible physical shape."
"She certainly is!"
When the slave trader felt his grip loosen slightly, he hurriedly pulled his hand free. Rubbing his reddened wrist, he shook his head and said:
"She was covered in injuries when her previous owner returned her. Even after medicine more or less healed them, she was left sickly and weak. Who knows how much longer she'll live? Her panic attacks used to happen only at night, but now she has them during the day too. Such a nuisance. With a mental illness this troublesome, who knows whether I'll find another buyer?"
He spread his hands as if to say there was nothing he could do, his voice full of disgust. "She's a total loss. If I really can't sell her, I'll just have to dispose of her..."
"Dispose of her?" Chuan Wenwu's voice rose sharply. "What do you think she is? Garbage?"
"I'm not the one treating her like garbage, Sir Hero!" Intimidated by his fury, the slave trader hastily backed up half a step and waved his hands. "She's simply worth nothing! Look at her-skinny and sick, unable to do even basic work. Who would waste money buying a burden? Keeping her this long is already more than generous of me!"
He even tried to justify himself further, putting on a look of false pity. "How does that saying go-better a short pain than a long one. Living like this is suffering for her anyway. If she really can't hold on, putting her out of her misery would actually be a good thing. Of course I'd like her to be healthy. Then she could fetch a good price. But she won't pull herself together, and I can't very well run my business at a loss, can I?"
Chuan Wenwu stopped arguing with him-he knew that trying to reason with someone who treated human lives as merchandise was like talking to a brick wall.
"What's her name?" Chuan Wenwu suddenly asked.
The slave trader paused, scratched his head, and said casually, "How would I know? Who goes out of their way to remember a slave's name? But if you're willing to buy her, you can give her one yourself!"
Chuan Wenwu was silent for a moment. His throat bobbed, and he said, each word distinct, "...How much? I'll buy her."
"What?"
Chuan Wenwu repeated, word by word, "I said, how much is she? I'll buy her."
The slave trader hadn't expected Chuan Wenwu, who had shown nothing but aversion to slaves from the outset, to actually offer to buy this "burden." His eyes brightened, and he ventured, "Sir Hero, you've seen the goods yourself. Skinny and sick. I won't ask too much of you. Fifty silver coins. How does that sound?"
"..."
Chuan Wenwu didn't haggle. He simply counted out the money in silence and tossed it to the slave trader.
The slave trader hurriedly caught it and weighed the hefty silver coins in his hands, his face overflowing with smiles. He had originally only hoped for thirty silver coins, and now he'd earned twenty more. He could barely close his mouth:
"Oh my! Sir Hero, you're so generous and kindhearted! Rest assured, this child will surely have a good life with you! Perhaps you'll bring blessings to even more unfortunate people in the future!"
"Now can I take her away?" Chuan Wenwu ignored his nonsense and asked coldly.
"No hurry, no hurry. There's still a procedure to follow to transfer control of the slave..."
Before you continue