The Auction Item Is... Me?
The goods up for auction? Yeah. That would be me.
“Current bid, two hundred million! Do I hear two hundred more? Three—! Two—! One—! Sold!”
At the auctioneer’s wave, the gleaming masterwork sword on display was whisked away by staff. Off to its new owner’s arms, no doubt. From what I’d glimpsed earlier, that owner was a nouveau-riche type tipping the scales at a hundred and fifty kilos. Poor sword.
“We’re moving into the latter half of the auction now! Time to bring out the real stars of the evening!”
The auctioneer’s voice pulled my eyes open. My turn was coming.
“Allow me to introduce them! Those born without the ability to wield mana—souls destined to cling to someone stronger simply to survive!”
Staff shoved me forward by the leather collar around my neck. Quality leather, at least; it didn’t hurt. Still, after decades of being treated like a proper human being in modern society, the whole thing felt more than a little humiliating.
“In academic circles they are known as Inferiors—Unawakened Unique Ability Holders!”
The moment I stepped onto the auction floor on my own two feet, hundreds of gazes locked onto me alone. Some were thick with lust, others cold and calculating, weighing profit against cost. The ones I liked best were the indifferent ones. Not that “liked” was the right word. Overnight slavehood doesn’t leave much room for enjoying the idea of being sold off.
“Inferiors are inferior in many respects, yes—but their loyalty? Not a single incident in an entire year proves it! A woman granted the rare Grade-1 quality seal by the government itself! Opening bid: one hundred million! We start at one hundred million!”
The hall erupted in a chorus of voices the instant the auctioneer finished. Haggling over how high to go, I supposed. Would’ve been nice to have someone to consult with myself.
Not that talking it over would change a damn thing… Fine. Might as well pray.
I closed my eyes and put everything I had into the most earnest prayer of my life.
Please let my master be a woman—pretty, smart, kind, not exhausting to deal with, good at feeding me, and loaded. And for the love of everything, never let me see that sword again for the rest of my days.
Even while I was deep in prayer mode, the bidding rolled on. Setting aside the pure moneybags and the ones who clearly couldn’t afford me, four serious contenders remained. Let’s take them in order.
First up: a mountain of a man who looked north of two hundred kilos. Every time his greasy eyes crawled over me, goosebumps raced down my spine. He’d draped himself in every luxury brand he could find, which only made the nouveau-riche vibe scream louder. Please, someone make him stop.
Not him. Please, please, please not him…
Whether the heavens heard me or not, he dropped out earlier than expected—looking thoroughly disappointed about it.
Second: a woman poured into black latex. Face hidden, but the body underneath was pure sculpture.
Oh. She might actually be okay?
I was just starting to picture a decent life at her side when her voice floated across the hall.
“Heh. If I get that one, I’m locking her in the house for life—psychologically and physically molding her until she can’t live without me. Doesn’t that sound absolutely divine?”
Uh… something’s wrong with this picture…
Only then did the whip in her hand register.
No. Nope. Hard pass on the SM lifestyle! Next candidate, please!
Third: a middle-aged man with a calm, composed air. Word was he was the head of the Wittelsbach family. Honestly, I half-suspected he was the same flavor of predator as the first guy. I didn’t know the first thing about the Wittelsbachs, so the option didn’t exactly sparkle either. Pass number two.
Which left the last one.
Sky-blue hair and eyes that caught the light like frost. An appearance that looked noble yet somehow still human. Anyone who’s consumed enough fiction knows characters like her tend to be terrifyingly strong. The cold-blooded type who seem indifferent to death, yet secretly grieve harder than anyone—outer steel, inner softie.
She was famous enough that her mere presence sent a ripple of panic through the crowd.
“The Frost Empress? What’s the Frost Empress doing here…?”
“Sit down! Hey, you—don’t leave your seat!”
“We’re all going to die! Every last one of us!”
“C-calm down! Even if she is the Frost Empress, she wouldn’t start a massacre in the middle of an auction…!”
Chaos bloomed in seconds. The auctioneer scrambled to soothe the room.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please remain calm! We fully understand the fear and confusion you may be feeling. But there is absolutely no need for either!”
People exchanged uneasy glances. Sensing every eye on him, the auctioneer pressed on.
“We have a binding contract from Her Majesty herself: no use of force inside the auction hall. Should any incident occur, the organizers will bear full responsibility. She has also confirmed she will do everything in her power to prevent trouble—and personally cover any damages if it arises.”
The sincerity in his voice seemed to land. Those who’d been ready to bolt traded looks and settled back into their seats. The ones who still tried to flee were quietly herded aside by staff before the panic could spread.
Once order returned, the auctioneer wiped the sweat from his brow and resumed.
“Thank you all for your understanding. We will restart from the previous bid! Two hundred fifty million! Starting at two hundred fifty million!”
Time passed. The black-latex SM enthusiast finally dropped out. I exhaled in pure relief, having dodged a future of house arrest, drugs, and “training.”
Whew. The two scariest ones are gone. Just two left…
Most of the remaining bidders couldn’t keep pace with the climbing price. That left a clean duel between the Frost Empress and the head of the Wittelsbach family.
“Four hundred eighty million.”
“Five hundred million.”
“Five hundred fifty million.”
“Six hundred million.”
By this point even the auctioneer had noticed the atmosphere turning strange; his usual patter dried up. A normal slave sale settled somewhere between one and three hundred million. Yet here was an Unawakened Unique Ability Holder with no special powers, her price rocketing into the range of high-tier ability users.
“Haha, see, senior? The frail, sickly-beauty concept that triggers protective instincts—I told you it’d sell!”
I caught the cheerful chatter of the organizers behind the scenes, but it felt less like celebration and more like the quiet before a storm.
“Seven hundred million.”
“…Seven hundred thirty million.”
“Eight hundred million.”
“…Eight hundred twenty million.”
The responses were growing slower. The increments smaller. In all his years running auctions, the auctioneer had seen this pattern only once: when the bid started to outstrip the actual value of the merchandise. And in those cases, victory almost always went to the side that still had room to breathe.
The end came quickly.
“One billion.”
“You insane bastard!”
BOOM—!
The Frost Empress’s fist slammed down. The entire hall shuddered as if it might collapse.
“You’re burning a billion on a single slave?”
Despite her fury, Ludwig Wittelsbach—head of the Wittelsbach family—met her glare with perfect calm.
“I fail to see the cause for anger. If you want the slave that badly, simply outbid me.”
“Common sense says spending a billion on one slave is nothing but a pride contest with me!”
“Sounds like a persecution complex. Incidentally, are you certain this is wise? I heard you signed a contract forbidding the use of force inside the auction hall.”
“…Tch.”
“Any further bids?”
“…One billion ten million.”
“One billion two hundred million.”
Silence. Absolute, crushing silence. No one dared speak. Ludwig clapped once, summoning the auctioneer.
“You there. This auction is finished. Declare the winner.”
“Ah—yes? N-no, I mean—this lot is sold to bidder number fifty-seven!”
Staff hustled me off the stage at once. I felt the weight of every stare on my back as I stepped down. Fresh cuffs clicked into place over the temporary ones they’d loosened earlier.
The abrupt exit and the lingering chaos left my head spinning, but years of agent training still cut straight to the heart of the matter.
So… I just got sold to that fifty-something-looking man?
Oh, gods.
I lifted my gaze toward the hall. The head of the Wittelsbach family stared back, expression carved from stone.
Something about this new life already feels… off to a bad start.
Whoever dumped me into this world—when I find you, you’re dead.