Too Young
Leon and Aria followed the Full Moon staff member’s guidance.
On the second floor of the lodging house, after a series of complicated security procedures, a section of the wall slid aside to reveal a hidden space.
It was a square room large enough for five or six people. A magic circle had been drawn across the floor, mana flowing through it in a gentle, steady current.
The staff member spoke.
“Please step inside.”
Leon and Aria entered and stood within the circle.
Aria sent a mana message to Leon.
— It’s a short-range teleportation magic circle.
The distance would be less than a hundred meters, yet it was still a full teleportation array.
So they install these at every entrance? There must be quite a few of those.
It was a glimpse of Full Moon’s true resources.
Once everyone was inside, the staff member closed the door and said, “I’ll verify your admission tickets.”
He took the two tickets and tore them both at once.
A low hum filled the air. The magic circle, sensing the signal linked to the tickets, began to react. Azure light bled outward as the mana within stirred.
Then—
Crack!
They leapt through space in an instant.
Heavy, chill air settled against their skin. They stood in a long corridor of dark granite. Golden lamps set into the ceiling lit the way ahead.
Behind them lay only a blank wall—a dead end reachable solely by teleportation circles whose coordinates had been precisely matched on both ends.
Click. Click. Click.
After walking a short distance they came to a door marked with the number 78 above it.
The staff member unlocked it, opened the door, and bowed.
“Please go inside. I hope you enjoy a pleasant evening.”
Leon asked, faintly puzzled, “You’re not confiscating weapons?”
“Full Moon does not inspect its guests’ belongings.”
“Hmm.”
You’ll regret that, Leon muttered inwardly, then nodded and stepped through.
“Ah. With a layout like this, I suppose they don’t need to.”
It was a private room of clean, comfortable design. A leather chair stood ready for reclining, and every wall except the one with the door was floor-to-ceiling glass.
Beyond the glass stretched the vast panorama of the auction house itself.
Deep underground lay a circular amphitheater-like cavern, nearly the size and height of a major stadium. A stage occupied the lowest level, while a hundred private rooms identical to Leon’s lined the walls in rising tiers.
Rooms 1 through 10 formed the first tier, 11 through 30 the second, 31 through 60 the third, and 61 through 100 the fourth. Room 78 therefore sat at the highest level, granting a clear view of the entire floor.
The interiors of the other rooms remained invisible. Though glass, each was covered by a black curtain that blocked any view from outside; only faint silhouettes hinted that people were present within.
Standing at the window, Leon and Aria studied the auction house’s layout carefully. They exchanged a few quiet telepathic remarks, reviewing their plan, then settled into their seats and waited, sampling the drinks and snacks that had been laid out.
About twenty minutes passed.
Boom!
Every light vanished at once, plunging the cavern into absolute darkness.
A moment later a powerful spotlight slammed down onto the stage, drawing every eye.
In that circle of light stood a man with his hair combed straight back. A white mask covered the upper half of his face, leaving only the lower portion exposed.
He raised the object in his hand to his mouth.
“Good evening. I am Ivan, your host for tonight’s auction. First, allow me to offer a sincere welcome to every distinguished guest who has honored Full Moon Auction with their presence.”
Ivan’s voice, amplified by a magical device, rolled through the entire hall like thunder.
“As always, I feel lengthy explanations and introductions are unnecessary. You are all busy people, so without further delay, let us begin.”
Good pacing, Leon murmured.
“This time a great many items from the Southern Continent have arrived that I believe will capture your interest. You may look forward to them. Now then—our first item.”
Ivan flicked a hand toward the rear. Two men carefully carried out a glass case and set it on the stage.
Inside lay a blade whose extreme curvature made it look like a crescent moon. A sinister black aura seeped from the steel—chilling and ominous.
“We begin with something quite extraordinary. This is said to have been the personal blade of a chieftain of a cannibal tribe deep in the Southern Continent’s jungles—a tribe that carves living people into pieces and eats them. Do you see the eerie ghostly energy swirling around the blade? Ugh, standing this close I can even hear the wailing of the victims’ vengeful spirits.”
Ivan made a show of rubbing his shoulders as if frightened.
“But have no fear. Full Moon is no third-rate outfit. We have of course sealed the ghostly energy thoroughly so it cannot leak. As long as you do not open the case, there will be no problem. Though of course, some of you may purchase it precisely in order to open it.”
It was certainly the sort of object that would drive black mages and curse practitioners wild. That blade would not remain peacefully asleep inside its box for long.
“Starting bid… fifty. Bidding begins now.”
The unit was gold, of course.
Sixty, seventy, eighty, one hundred… The price soared without ceiling. Sums that ordinary commoners would spend years of back-breaking labor to earn leapt upward every second. The hammer finally fell at two hundred fifty.
The auction continued in that fashion. Most of the goods were strange and exotic pieces that had crossed the sea from the Southern Continent—more than enough to stoke the acquisitive hunger of the wealthy.
“….”
A few items piqued Leon’s interest, yet buying them now would serve no purpose, so he simply sat still.
“Next item. This was discovered in the same location as a certain friend who will appear a little later. According to our appraisers, it is a fruit that contains an extremely potent yang energy.”
A fist-sized fruit the color of deep crimson and shaped like a Western pear was brought onto the stage.
Leon’s eyes lit with interest.
“There it is.”
He needed this. For what was about to happen, he had to secure it first.
Leon immediately placed his hand on the signaling device in front of him.
“Spiritual medicines carrying this degree of yang energy are exceedingly rare. Appraisal indicates it grew for no less than three hundred years while absorbing immense heat—ah, we already have a bidder! Guest in Room 78, one hundred! One hundred gold! Does anyone care to go higher?”
The atmosphere remained lukewarm.
The only people who would want such a thing were martial artists who cultivated extreme-yang mana arts, or mages overflowing with curiosity and research zeal. Both types were rare, and none of the handful who fit the description were present tonight.
When Leon opened at a flat one hundred, interest died completely. The fruit’s starting price had probably been under ten gold; the only remaining curiosity was mild interest in the eccentric willing to pay a hundred for it.
“…Very well! The fruit is sold for one hundred gold.”
Staff carried the fruit off the stage.
A query arrived via the signaling device asking how he wished the item delivered. Leon answered that he would take it at once.
A knock soon sounded at the door. A staff member entered, handed Leon the fruit, and departed.
“Next ‘item.’”
Letting Ivan’s voice wash over him, Leon carefully placed the fruit into a wooden case he had brought for the purpose. With that, preparations were complete.
“Okay. Done…”
Seated again, Leon turned his gaze back to the stage.
His face hardened to stone the very next moment.
Ivan was rattling off the rapidly climbing bids.
“Guest in Room 23 at two hundred fifty—two fifty. Yes, Room 44 at two seventy—Room 90 at three hundred! Ah, Room 34 at four hundred!”
And on the stage stood a white-haired little girl.
She barely reached Ivan’s waist. Her entire body trembled. An attendant held her head forced upward so her face was visible. Shackles bound her ankles; manacles locked her wrists. Her clothes and face had been decorated as elaborately as a gift package.
“….”
Leon’s eyes sank deep. The endless flood of competing bids only made the weight heavier.
Aria’s voice dropped, cold as ice.
“What a pack of scoundrels. In the end Full Moon really is a third-rate outfit.”
Yes. Once they did something like this, they could never escape the label of third-rate. Ivan’s earlier boast now rang hollow.
Or perhaps he meant they were third-rate only in the sense that they offered high-quality humans?
Leon let out a low, humorless laugh.
“Human trafficking right in the middle of the capital’s Fourth District…”
He had never imagined he would witness it here. No matter how hollow the laws had become, human trafficking remained an outright crime in the Empire.
Yet here it was, in the very heart of the capital—and the high society of the Empire was the clientele. Did the powerful simply live above the law?
“….”
For an instant he thought their eyes met.
He saw the terror, the despair, the raw suffering in her gaze.
Then the moisture brimming in her eyes, the twitching corners of her lids, the garish white powder that did not belong on a child’s face, the carefully braided hair.
Leon’s hand, pushing back his own hair, grew rough.
What crime had that little girl committed?
What sin had brought her all the way from the Southern Continent to stand on this stage?
The crime of catching a slaver’s eye? The crime of having a pretty face? The crime of having protectors too weak to keep her safe?
True, even though it was illegal, the clandestine buying and selling of slaves was common enough. He had seen it often. It was on roughly the same level as using practical black magic.
…But.
“She’s too young.”
There were still limits. There were still lines and decency.
Leon slowly looked around, studying each of the rooms that ringed the stage one by one.
Why was the price still climbing? What did they intend to do with such a tiny child that they bid so fiercely?
Even though the black curtains blocked every view, why could he still see the greedy faces behind them?
Why was that man Ivan growing more and more excited, and what were the attendants holding the girl thinking?
“You insane bastards.”