Chapter 1

~Patricia~

***

Her vision was consumed by inky darkness.

The young lady's frail-looking body trembled. It seemed as though even a gentle breeze could whip her into oblivion.

Hot breaths escaped her swollen lips as she waited for the moment of fate to switch gears.

'Fate is such an unpredictable force,' she thought suddenly.

All her life revolved around this truth and it appeared this very moment was meant to affirm it. But she would not give up. She gritted her teeth.

Foreign voices swirled around the young lady.

Her skin felt hot and itchy.

Her thoughts ran in her mind, searching for a sliver of hope. The drug that she had been forcefully fed earlier, was more effective than she had imagined.

Even when blindfolded, the young woman could still sense the intent gazes fixed on her as though she was a vegetable being analyzed in a market.

Her eyes swelled with darkness, the many voices disappeared beneath her intense concentration. She needed to stay calm.

"2 Million!"

"2.5 Million!"

"3 Million!"

"5 Million!"

After drastic increases in the bidding war, the auction fell silent. Some of the moneyed bidders had long given up. Money was not a problem for them but it was still a valuable asset. Not one that they could spend easily on a mere girl.

Some still wanted to keep up their pride. A little over 5 million was nothing to them, especially when lust had overtaken reason.

"5.2 Million." The one who had bid was a short, skinny man in simple outerwear. His eyes were bloodshot, presumably due to a night of smoking weed, and an ominous aura surrounded him as he lifted his placard.

The auctioneer glanced at the man nonchalantly before announcing in a pleasant voice, "We have 5.2 Million from bidder no. 18." He grasped the mic as he spoke.

The auctioneer wore a golden mask that covered half of his face, revealing his smiling lips and knife-sharp chin only. His suit was silver and sparkled like shattered glass.

A different man, masquerading in a brown suit: "5.5 Million."

"6 Million." The short, skinny man from before spoke out softly. His eyes were visibly glued on the young girl who was on her knees on stage.

"10 Million." A gravelly voice echoed. Patricia squirmed upon hearing such a number. She felt uncomfortable.

The auctioneer's voice sounded well pleased as his voice rang in her ears, "10 Million! We have ten million from bidder no. 2!"

Patricia could vaguely hear faint murmurs from people who had earlier fiercely bid as though their lives were on the line. It was common for most people to outwardly give up but thereafter dirty their hands to redeem themselves, especially for those whose feet were deep into the underside of society. It was not a matter of 'purchasing her' for most of them, it was more of 'showcasing the unknown limits of their power'.

Patricia's face fell, casting a sullen shadow over her blindfolded face that remained beautiful nonetheless. She was like a violet blooming in a sea of darkness. Her thoughts roamed to what had brought her here.

This was initially an undertaking by the police meant to surround this building and several others. But... it had suddenly been transformed into—yes, her enslavement.

How mind-boggling.

***

The police held no substantial evidence against the criminal dealings taking place here. Hence, they only had the choice of making a sudden requisition. It was like caging a suspect in their home.

For this mission, however, various international figures were thought to be deeply involved. Therefore, a special task force comprising of the world's best was created. The team members were carefully picked out of the cream of the crop, and a gathering of ten elites, with no absentee, took place.

Patricia was swiftly assigned the position of leader and, there was much debate over whether a woman - of all things - could lead the force properly. Some of the male members argued that it was much better to choose a capable man as the leader as females were scientifically more susceptible to making decisions out of emotion.

The subject in question had to stifle an amused smile at their conceited argument. "Scientifically more susceptible to making decisions out of emotion"? Since when did scientists have a hand in this team?

Still, some supported her or offered sensible arguments.

It was a team of ten experienced men and women of varying ages. Even with knowledge of Patricia's numerous exploits, everyone there had accomplished something exceedingly meritorious as well. Patricia's deeds were considered a drop in the ocean since she was not as active as the others.

Nobody knew, however, that she was mostly inactive only because her deployment was under the direct jurisdiction of the military.

Patricia didn't mind who was the leader since the professionalism of everyone there was apparent.

But was she willing to hand her life to a stranger?

For the case, yes, but it seemed she was alone in her thoughts.

Nonetheless, despite protests, the young lady who remained mum throughout the argument was finalized as the task force commander. Thereafter, everyone was assigned their roles by the leader.

The mission was to take place one month from then.

Until then, the special task force members were to spend the time together, polishing their plans and readying themselves for the big day.

The air had been heavy with a mix of anticipation and anxiety. The mission itself was capable of influencing the whole world whether or not it succeeded. Despite that tension, however, time did not stop. A month soon passed.

Then, the day dawned.

The morning was hazy, and the blades of green grass encompassing around an impressive skyscraper were encased in dew.

This skyscraper was the auction she was currently in, or at least the upper floors of the auction.

In actuality, the auction hall was within the building's basement and the building itself was a place meant for conferences between well-known figures. However, neither the police nor the task force members had knowledge of this hidden basement back then.

The group had split up and closed in vigilantly. They could not invade through the main entrance of course, but this was only if they were trespassing.

The plan was simple. Patricia and another member(who went by the name Thomas) disguised themselves in slick black suits and dark shades. There was someone specialized in makeup and cosmetics in the team who altered their appearances.

Thomas and Patricia now resembled a pair of lean, imposing bodyguards. They were the team's vanguard and the mission's success would depend on them. But there was no anxiety or suspense on their faces as the two looked up at the cloudless blue sky.

They concealed themselves within the shadows of the trees and trudged parallel to the road leading to the skyscraper, walking further and further away.

It was morning but the light from the eastern sun was dim. Golden light washed over the trees above their heads. The main road had a grove of natural trees that grew tall and sturdy with thick foliage.

The two associates continued northwards before finally stopping at a dusky clearing. They crouched on their calves while facing the winding white cement road. Their firm figures had blended into the shadows cast by the trees.

There was more light now as the golden sun dazzled the eastern horizon. A gentle glow encased the road that was sodden from the previous night's rain. A calming peace reigned in the world that was only beginning to wake from slumber but the two associates were wide awake and a chilly glow was gleaming in their eyes. Normally, such light would be seen in the eyes of assassins preparing to kill.

It was 5:56 am.

They spotted an imposing fleet of cars gliding down the road. The cars' windows were pitch-black and bulletproof. As the cars sped through the pools of water, water splashed upwards and rained over the vehicles.

Light shone off the black bodies of the cars, reflecting and hitting Thomas's narrowed eyes.

Thomas was half-Caucasian but his skin was naturally tan and his build was firm underneath the layers of clothing.

His eyes were pale blue and his dazzling blonde hair was short and combed back neatly. The hands placed on his knees were filled with frightening scars and his palms were rough from longtime practice with guns. Patricia had chosen him for this escapade more due to his personality. He was a straightforward and devoted man who followed his gut rather than logic. His instincts were normally spot-on.

After carefully analyzing her teammates; their habits, personalities, and abilities, she concluded him as the most efficient partner.

They ignored the fleet of cars and continued waiting until finally spotting two lone vehicles.

More than half an hour had already passed. It was now 6.36 am.

The two cars seemed plain. They were glazed in a shining patch of silver and their windows were not bulletproof. Whoever was inside was either quite easygoing or they just held the belief that no one would have the audacity to ambush them. This was what they were waiting for.

The two associates who had blended into the darkness of the woods readied themselves. In Patricia's grasp was a jet-black rifle. She lifted it to point the nuzzle at the road. Her finger shook with nostalgia and a buzz of adrenaline was launched through the depths of her heart. Her lips trembled as she stifled a smile and muttered coldly, "Ready?" The man beside her acquiesced wordlessly, and a smile bloomed on her face.

A member of their team was a highly skilled hacker and even amongst the top ten hackers globally, she was a force to reckon with.

With her skills, they had gained the knowledge of several of the people on the invitation list to that building.

It appeared that an enormous conference was taking place on that day as well.

One of the invited was a magnate who had recently struck a jackpot and closed a deal with one of the nation's largest real estate companies. This deal had created quite a buzz in the business world for a while. Since then, the man's company had been spurting positively and it was predicted that he would gain immense fortunes at that rate.

The world of business was unpredictable nonetheless. Anything could happen. Like this.

One of the silver cars suddenly became imbalanced and whizzed off the road. The other car was unprepared and collided with the silver car. The collision was not serious though as the drivers were quite skilled and braked in time, maneuvering the cars expertly to avoid critical damage.

A horrified shout came from one of the cars and a man with a short and skinny figure lumbered out with wide steps, gazing wide-eyed at what was happening before him. However, before more people could come out of the two cars, a slender figure suddenly leaped out of the bushes and seized him by the neck. The person's grasp was firm and their fingertips were ice-cold. A chill ran through the man's spine. He winced and opened his mouth to scream—

"Squeak, you die. Move, you die. Try anything, you die. Am I clear?" An austere voice coldly whispered beside his ear. The short man could not tell whether they were male or female but one thing was certain—they were dead serious.

The man shut his eyes tightly, his thoughts racing frantically. He suddenly heard muffled yells behind him. Those were his bodyguards' voices... A frightening possibility seeped into his mind but he refuted it desperately. Suddenly, the man felt something at his feet. His eyes shakily glanced downwards, and he saw that a man's unconscious body had been thrown at his feet. It was one of his men. His pupils shuddered in surprise.

The person behind him may not know, but his bodyguards were specially hired. They were professional mercenaries who costed a fortune to hire. He had spent many hours trying to convince them to escort him to today's conference. It was also because of their assuring presence that he had neglected the quality of his transport.

Yet those men were easily compromised in mere seconds. The man's fear overflowed, but his body did not make any motions. He examined the situation with pursed lips. His heart was pounding wildly against his chest as his thoughts ran, searching for a way... A way to get out of this mess?

He was terrified but not dumb. The situation was hopeless. His tense muscles gradually relaxed in surrender.

"Good. Now, listen carefully—"

...

The two silver cars were gliding steadily down the road once more as though nothing had ever transpired a few minutes ago.

In one of the cars, Patricia sat beside the short and skinny man. Thomas drove the vehicle in the driver's seat. The short man's name was Richard von Rosenwald. Mr. Rosenwald appeared composed but, if one looked carefully, one would notice his anxious eyes that had grown bloodshot.

"You don't know anything about this conference?" Patricia asked, arching a brow questioningly with her gaze fixed on the road.

Mr. Rosenwald nodded his head and responded meekly, "It was an accomplice from my campus years who informed me that a rather big conference was taking place today. He insisted that it would be a good chance to curry favor with some bigwigs... I didn't doubt him and accepted without delving deeper..."

Patricia hummed and glanced at him. The man's thoughts were clearly expressed by his body language. He was lying.

Suddenly, the man let out a high-pitched cry of pain, and his cheeks hollowed out in grief. Thomas glanced aloofly at the rearview mirror and saw one of Patricia's fists deeply planted in the man's stomach. Then he looked away, his thoughts distant. 'I thought we were police officers, not gangsters... Well, whatever.' He brushed his thoughts away and focused his attention on the road. The trees were enveloped in the iridescent light from the sun.

"Ugh! You... I said everything I could!" The man protested, outraged. He glared at the 'young man' beside him who had a carefree expression. This young man had short black hair and appeared quite plain. His bright, violet eyes were the only spectacular factor about him. Earlier, when he answered the youngster's question, he had supposed that the blonde man in the front was stronger, but damn, did that punch hurt... Had he made a mistake?

No. If anything, now that my mind is clear, this young man has only restrained me. The pain from his punch is also clearing up. It's the blonde man who restrained my men who is trouble, he thought.

After clearing his mind of any doubts he previously had, he glanced at the youngster hatefully. But when their eyes interlocked, his body froze up. The man unconsciously held his breath, discovering the pair of violet eyes that were gazing at him hungrily like a beast. Those were not the eyes of a human. It was weird. This was just an ordinary young man probably lacking any status or substantial backing, just a gangster. A carjacker. But 'his' eyes...

What... What was this feeling in his gut?

It resembled the feeling of despair he once felt at near-bankruptcy.

No.

He could tell immediately.

Cold sweat dribbled down his back.

This feeling, it was... Death.

The 'young man' who was looking at him silently with little emotion finally spoke, "Let me ask again. Do you really know nothing at all about this conference?" 'His' voice struck the impression that 'he' was keeping something dangerous at bay.

The man looked down at his hands. His palms were soaked in a hot sweat, the same went for his back. What would happen if he lied... No. He...he was misunderstanding, wasn't he... This was just a young man. There was no way... An idea suddenly struck him and his eyes dilated like a pair of saucers. His head snapped to the side to gape at the young man. "You... You as well this other sir are...a police officer?"

The young man did not show any emotion. His lips were pursed as he replied succinctly, "Why do you suppose so? Since when were thieves likened to noble and righteous boys in blue?"

"Huh?" No. That was not right. If they were not the police, then why would they require information on the Conference. It was unthinkable. Unless—!

Numberless thoughts raced through his head.

Thomas suddenly spoke from the driver's seat: "10 minutes."

He meant there were 10 minutes before they arrived. Patricia glanced at Mr. Rosenwald but it seemed there was no need for her to remind him. The man's eyes were full of light: "Can I trust you?" He was no longer doubtful. Even if this was do-or-die.

"For your sake, yes," Patricia replied darkly.

The man nodded and finally dropped the many walls he had erected for years just for this day. "This Conference... It is no ordinary conference. You could say that this is the very embodiment of the darkest side of the underworld. It is where the underworld and the surface collide." His brows furrowed. Mr. Rosenwald produced a handkerchief from his left pocket and mopped away the sweat on his forehead before continuing.

"A decade ago, I lost my six-year-old daughter... At first, I thought she had just gotten lost but it was not so simple. A passerby alerted the police who were on the search that he had seen children-like figures in a certain truck in the wastelands of a border town in City L," he said.

"But how was that linked to your daughter?" Patricia inquired, more politely. She knew this was a delicate topic for him. She could also tell that he was not lying. This was all true.

"The passerby happened to see one of the figure's faces. He said it resembled my daughter precisely... Since then, I've been constantly on the chase for the malefactors who abducted my beloved child. It took me ten years before getting a concrete clue. This conference... This is actually an auction."

Patricia looked at him. She had a vague idea of where this was going but she still asked, "An auction?"

"Yes. A very big auction with countless influential figures. I even know of a few ministers and government officials who are participating," his voice was getting raspy. From afar, they could see the tip of the skyscraper coming into view. Mr. Rosenwald paused and looked Patricia in the eye, tears were rapidly welling in his eyes and a deeply-etched sadness emerged from the depths of his scarred heart. "Please... Please save my daughter!"

Patricia observed him quietly. She did not need to ascertain if he was lying or not. A wave of searing anger rose from her chest. Who would do such a thing? A frightening smile curled up her face and her violet eyes glinted dangerously. She remembered the words of her team members as they argued over her position as leader: 'A woman will be easily led by her emotions.'

Haha. She didn't know about all women, but for her...

"Thomas. The plan has changed."

If this was an auction, then things were different now.

They had to prioritize the safety of the civilians being sold.

"I'm going alone."

Saying this, she sent a message to an old friend: [You once said you wanted a slave right? Go to this location XXX, XXX.]

***