"Respected Captain, what kind of slave are you looking for?"
"At Golden Palm Trading Company, we have everything you could need!"
"Just look, we have robust natives from the colonies; stewards knowledgeable in noble etiquette and financial affairs; and seductive, fiery Dancers from the western Continent..."
"Even rare non-human species are within our reach. Just place an order, pay a 30% deposit upfront, and we have the power to bring them back for you."
As soon as Byron had stepped through the door, a finely-dressed attendant approached to warmly introduce him to their company’s "merchandise."
Following where the attendant pointed, he saw that the not-so-small showroom was packed with slaves, all in shackles, behind fences and iron cages.
There were men of decent build in tattered clothes, and passably attractive women dressed in revealing outfits... indeed, the variety and quantity were substantial.
And, according to common experience, those displayed outside were just the cheapest common goods. The premium quality merchandise was most likely kept in strict confinement in the back rooms.
Byron, ignoring the attendant’s flowery pitch, took two steps forward on his own but then hesitated as if encountering some difficult issue.
Because that impulsive thrill that had surged within him vanished in the blink of an eye.
"What is it, Captain Byron? Are you unsure how to choose?"
"My experience with the Slave Trade Guild is quite extensive."
Seeing Byron’s expression, Gus, thinking he was inexperienced with such shady dealings due to his youth, hurried to assist his employer.
Clueless, Byron had to push down his impatience and asked with some confusion, "Do you often buy slaves? You have extensive experience in selecting them?"
"But somehow this place doesn’t seem like something you can afford."
"No, not buying... I have extensive experience being sold."
Gus thumped his chest, proudly recounting his "great exploits" to him.
Because he was inherently inconspicuous.
Previously, when he couldn’t make ends meet and didn’t want to trouble his neighbors, he would often go to slave traders, big and small, and sell himself.
Though the people there weren’t very pleasant, he rather liked it, since he was provided with food and shelter.
Plus, merchants, fearing their slaves would get too thin and look unappealing, thus affecting the price, generally made sure they were well-fed.
Gus naturally became a frequent visitor at the Slave Trade Guild. He even shopped around, staying longer with whichever trader offered better meals.
After all, he would soon be forgotten. Once he had his fill, he would nonchalantly escape when the guards weren’t attentive, or after being bought by someone.
He had visited Golden Palm Trading Company numerous times as well. Since it was a Remit enterprise, Gus felt no guilt in taking advantage of them whenever he could.
He paid no heed to the attendant standing right beside him.
The latter, hearing the "story" Gus was telling, merely shrugged, not taking it seriously at all. In his memory, nothing like that had ever happened.
It wasn’t until Byron and Eight Fingers, led by Gus, confidently made their way towards the higher-quality VIP area—as if they knew the place well—that the attendant suddenly slapped his forehead.
"’Eh? I haven’t even finished my introduction! How did those two just wander off on their own?’"
He had completely forgotten about Gus.
Only Byron, looking at the log entry about Gus, showed a slight, interested smile.
The pair followed Gus through most of the merchandise section. Whenever Byron saw slaves that met his standards, he decisively bought them without regard for their skin color.
In a short while, more than a dozen people were following behind him.
He wasn’t short on money now!
Because, adhering to the principle of not wasting anything, he had secretly sold the bounties on the heads of the former Captain Salman (valued at 4,300 pounds) and "Magic Mirror" West (valued at 4,800 pounds).
The black market traders, who took on all kinds of business, naturally had internal channels to claim the bounties from various countries, though they only gave Byron half the price. Even so, it was a substantial sum.
It is particularly worth mentioning that although "Magic Mirror" West was a privateer captain recognized by the York Family and enjoyed judicial immunity in Hightins, it did not mean he would be spared by the nations he had plundered. If captured by an enemy country, he would still be executed for piracy!
"As expected, among these indentured servants from the Old Continent, there are no soldiers of the Lancaster Party. With the new king crowned, they might face hardship in the coming years, but their lives aren’t necessarily at risk. Most wouldn’t fall to such a state."
Byron believed that the non-core members of the Lancaster Party would likely be relegated to local defense forces, stripped of all opportunities for meritorious service or honor. But the fate of those close to Lancaster, those with whom he himself shared a deep bond—his own aunt, the former Queen Margaret; his childhood friend, a descendant of their vassals; his ever-loyal Guardian Knight... he truly dared not dwell on what might have befallen them.
"Captain, sir, right ahead is the maximum-security area where Transcendents are held."
"The cages here are made of a special material called Law-Breaking Stone. Whether it’s the Silver Law or the Pirate Code, all Power of Law, as well as one’s own Spirituality, are nullified within them. Any transcendent ability, including Black Sorcery, cannot be activated. A Transcendent confined inside is no different from a relatively strong ordinary person."
Gus led them to the deepest part of the cargo area, pointing from a distance at ten black stone cages. There were ten cages, but only four held people.
Of the three who were standing, they were either too old or missing limbs—clearly damaged goods. But at least they were still breathing. The last one, lying on the ground, couldn’t even sit up.
Before they could even approach, they suddenly heard a shrill, insect-thin voice cry out, "I, Captain Maltz of the Woodpecker, want all these slaves! But what’s with this half-dead ugly freak in here? Is it dead yet? I’m taking them back to use as incubators for my insects. If it dies before the insects hatch, I’m not paying a copper!"
Another group of customers had evidently arrived before them.
The leading pirate unsheathed his Sidearm Sword and, using it like a club, poked at the unconscious figure in the cage to see if he would react.
The attendant serving him hurried forward to intervene, "Guest, please don’t be rash! He’s only gravely injured and unconscious. Besides, we’re selling raw materials here. As long as the soul hasn’t dissipated before use, it’s no different from a living one. If you stab him to death, you’ll have to pay the full price!"
The commotion immediately attracted the attention of Byron and his companions. As they tried to get closer, several expressionless pirates blocked their way.
A few pirates with similarly shrill voices hissed, "We’ve claimed all the goods here. Please leave."
Behind the human wall, the leading pirate captain completely ignored the attendant’s attempts to dissuade him and continued to jab at the man’s face with his Sword Scabbard. Blisters on the man’s skin burst, splattering blood.
Despite being unconscious, the slave on the ground still twitched instinctively from the pain.
"Hahaha, still alive! Good, or my fun would be greatly diminished," the pirate captain gloated, clearly deriving immense pleasure from tormenting others and making them suffer.
「At that moment, the unexpected happened.」
Just as he raised his Sword Scabbard to strike again, the figure on the ground suddenly opened its eyes—they were somewhat hollow.
With his intact right hand, he snatched the Sword Scabbard. Then, with expert swordsmanship, he disarmed the pirate of his sword and, in a fluid motion, smashed the Sword Scabbard across his attacker’s nose.
Instantly, blood gushed forth.
Yet, observers could all tell from his hollow eyes that the slave had not regained consciousness. He was acting purely on instinct, his powerful will forcing his broken body beyond its limits.
With unfocused eyes, he muttered an oath, as if in a dream-like trance, "The King is supreme; defiance will not be tolerated! The Lord is supreme; until my death, none shall defile him! Honor is supreme; an eye for an eye, blood for blood!"
A sound like a molar being crushed suddenly came from behind the human wall. A few obstructing pirates were casually pushed aside as a figure strode forward to the attendant.
With a hint of mockery for ’Woodpecker,’ he said nonchalantly, "I’m also interested in these witchcraft materials. Why don’t you sell them all to me?"