For weeks on end, A-Yin persistently shadowed Rei, veiled in secrecy, engaging in seemingly futile conversations and relentless interrogations of everyone in her vicinity. Yet, for the first time, despite his efforts, A-Yin remained empty-handed and Rei’s genuine intentions. 

A smile occasionally danced across the demon’s features as he entertained the amusing notion that while delving into the murder investigation at the dock, he might have unwittingly stumbled upon the fubai. 

However, amidst the enigma of their unfulfilled encounter, another memorable moment lingered from that weekend when A-Yin donned the guise of a wealthy and genial merchant at an explosive slave auction.

A while ago

Shaka adjusted his position in the velvet chair and crossed his legs while smoking a cigar. When does this fucking show begin? 

He had waited at least 40 minutes for the auction to start. Near him, some wealthy businessmen chatted amiably between a glass of scotch and another. The unexpected enigma at the port revealed a secret and precious shipment headed to Aryo's grand theater, which is why he was here to take part in the unfolding of the spectacle. 

Every month, the grand Shuì auction took center stage in the capital, drawing the wealthiest and most ostentatious individuals from across the Rèn. Notably, the Quìn Shuì clan stood as the predominant supplier of slaves on the continent, orchestrating the arrival of countless ships in every corner. The thriving slave trade was unmistakably evident in the bustling activity of Aryo, showcasing the prosperity of this commerce. However, the Shuì clan strategically reserved the finest specimens for their auction, enticing affluent patrons to part with their wealth amid lavish hotels and upscale restaurants.

“Are you here to buy too?”

Shaka turned his head in the direction of the unwanted guest. “No, I could never meddle in Madame’s business, but I gladly attend events like these whenever possible.”

“Aren’t you a merchant?”

At the question, he shrugged his shoulders and poured some scotch. “Unfortunately, I don’t trade this kind of thing.”

The other man stared at him, confused, as if there were nothing else to sell to this world, and Shaka smiled, drinking from the elaborate glass. It had likely been a long evening, and drowning in alcohol seemed the only sensible thing to do. He poured some more, while with the tail of his green eye, he saw some movement in the upper right corner, in the central and elevated niche: Madame Shuì had just walked in, followed by her son Marvin and some butlers. She noticed him quite quickly and greeted him with a lustful look. The merchant smiled back and raised a chalice in her honor.

"A delightful old pair of sweatpants," Shaka thought, looking at her. She must have been 50 now, even if she wore makeup and dressed like a twenty-year-old. On the other side of the theater, in a niche just below her, he saw Randal Duatiè with his gaze pointed up, waiting for Madame to notice him. He greeted her with one hand, his eyes sliding quickly on Marvin, who responded with a smile. 

Shaka chuckled, amused, and got back to his drink. The show was to his taste.

The man beyond middle age is the head of the great Duatiè Clan, the biggest forger, and producer of armor, shields, and weapons on all the continent. He traveled for about a month to be there and admire the auction. Guards stood behind him, but none of his family had accompanied him. 

He really loves these business trips, doesn’t he? Too bad having him here is such a pain in the ass. 

Of the families descended from the great clans of the heroes, the Duatiè and the Shuì are the most problematic because of some ancient and powerful relics they possess. Shinat has shrunk a lot compared to 350 years ago, yet the presence of the Artifacts represents a significant danger for A-Yin and his group. The Zhiliào invented them during the First War as energy catalysts, usable only by skilled manipulators. 

Each hero wielded a distinct power finely attuned to their abilities. The Pulse Breaker, Galion Duatiè’s hammer, exploited energy impulses to fry the opponents’ nervous system; the artifact was used in pairs with gloves and insulating boots that helped the owner control the discharge—equipment notably absent from Randal's possession for some unknown reason. A magical brooch was made for the merchant of the Shuì family. Aegor was a frivolous and vacuous man with an excellent nose for business. That artifact was too powerful for him. It required commitment and concentration, but it could even manipulate weather, hence its name, Sky Emperor. Obviously, the Zhiliào forged an artifact for themselves, something that would marry well with the conscientious and attentive nature of the clan: the Dominus Vitae. Lùthien, the head of the family then, was a force of nature. He was perfectly in tune with the book, managing to activate the runic writing and heal injured even at a distance of miles.

The other minor clans also obtained relics. Nuin Zhè, like any beast tamer, was very close with her wolf, but since she received the Will of Authority, she could communicate and have a strong ancestry with all kinds of beasts, even demonic ones. Deldrid Hun connected with the Eye of Singularity tiara, capable of amplifying the shinat of everyone linked, distributing power between men. The nature clan, instead, obtained a necklace specifically requested by Phinion. It was a necklace of grass colors, which allowed him to draw on the immense knowledge of who had become one with the earth: the Ubiquitous Voice.

The last artifact produced was the Core Eater, a sword of fine craftsmanship with an always sharp blade. TashanYao was the most powerful of the seven. That weapon was the perfect embodiment of the frightening potential of the Sun because it could even absorb the corruption of a Great Demon. 

The annals of history elucidate the purpose of every relic and the lingering dread their mere memory instills in demons. Luckily, nobody has seen a human using them for centuries due to the fallacy of their strength, now a crumb compared to that of demons. If only they weren't so few, they could dominate the Rèn. Hence, the reason why A-Yin’s demonic resistance group, known as the Scarlet Jaws among humans, must act in the shadows. 

Today, good old Randal had come to the theater with his faithful hammer. Of course, he had wanted to prove his mightiness to elect himself as the head of the nation, given that some artifacts were now missing: the Dominus Vitae is currently safeguarded in the capital of Zhiliào's territory: Sixan.

Just a bit more patience.

After a few minutes, the lights went out, leaving only the center of the stage illuminated. The auctioneer raised his hands to the audience, presenting himself with a bow. “Welcome to the great auction of Aryo. I would like to thank Madame Shuì for allowing us to organize events ever richer to meet your expectations.”

A wave of applause grew from the audience and filled the air.

“Thank you for waiting. We are ready to begin.” The big red curtains rose, revealing the presence of a row of minute bodies of various colors. “Tonight, we have prepared a special selection just for you.” with a gesture, the auctioneer signaled to the employees to bring the first figure forward to his right.

It was a little girl in a cute blue dress full of bows. She had a brooch in her long green hair near two thin curved horns. Her big black eyes gave her a childish appearance, made more appealing by the terrified looks with which she scrutinized the hungry audience of humans. Her small hands were tight in fists, her wrists and ankles reddened by heavy iron chains. 

Shaka examined her with detachment. The auction usually started with kids and proceeded with body parts for potions and equipment. The highlight was not presented until 10 p.m. 

Many hands had risen, and the starting price had grown exponentially in a few moments.

“25,000 gold coins from lord number 74 in the third row, congratulations!” The lucky one laughed, satisfied for having won the inviting prize of a little girl too young and innocent for the horrors that await her.

Pathetic.

Soon, the voices of the audience became cheerful and nervous, in a swirl of enthusiasm as the auctioneer presented each piece.

After 3 hours and a tremendous headache, Shaka woke up from boredom and looked carefully at the stage. 

The time has finally come. 

Two men walked onto the stage, pushing a cube of 3x3 meters covered by a thick black cloth. The burden weighed on them. Once left at the scene's center, they returned to the backstage, leaving the auctioneer the honor of revealing the grand surprise of the evening.“Here’s the moment you’ve been waiting for. We’re proud to introduce you-” he grabs the fabric and pulls it down “-Kahn the fighter!”

The humans were speechless. Between gasps and screams of amazement and fear, Shaka admired the contents of the reinforced metal cage: a demon, taller than him in his usual form, collapsed on the cold metal base. He had a very muscular body, full of old scars, new lacerations, and bruises, with immobilized hands and a muzzle to cover half his face. Black ink drew a thick flourish tattoo from the right biceps up to the collarbone, like a coal shoulder of armor. The complex tattoo was now ruined by the cuts of slavery. Only a scar stood out pale on the shoulder, under it a design now unrecognizable except for a curl with the vague appearance of an arched horn. The battered demon feebly moved his eyelids under the brown locks of his long hair. He had an uncultivated beard and large pointed horns covered by layers of cloth. As soon as he focused on the audience, his gaze filled with burning and red hatred. He growled furiously, showing the sharp canines beyond the muzzle.

That was precisely what Shaka had expected. No, even better! A middle demon.

“It’s a true diamond in the rough, a unique piece for your collection, a commander of demonic troops dating back more than 200 years! Capturing it was extremely difficult, but it was worth it. Look at this spectacle! Let’s start with a base of 120,000 gold coins. Who’s the first to bet?”

The crowd went wild, betting coins feverishly. The demon painstakingly rose from the ground and tried to grab the thick metal bars, but the heavy chains nailed him in place, making him fall to his knees. He let go of a roar so strong as to overpower the enthusiastic voices of humans. Strength was leaving his body. 

Shaka looked at him with a bit of compassion mixed with annoyance. He knew that demon; he had seen him often when he was still in Diyu. Despite the muscular demon being very young and inexperienced, he could release rasuah waves so vigorously that they made the walls of the great black room of War tremble. And now, he could barely breathe. The handcuffs on his wrists emitted a small white light, which weakened him, bleeding him.

It should be almost time.