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Eventually, it [finally] occurs to me to simply [ask] the room of my comrades about the date of the next auction. I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out. I quickly realize that there must be something preventing people from speaking while in their cages, a magical gag of sorts. Now that I finally consider it, it is strange that I have not heard a single peep in the few days that I have spent here. Actually, now that I think about it, it is a bit strange that I have also not had to go to the bathroom, and that I have not felt any hunger since being forced into this cage. I hypothesize that these are further effects of the cage that suppresses sound, though I have no way to confirm my hypothesis. However, assuming from what I heard about products being in poor condition, I assume that either these cages simply slow bodily needs or perhaps don't slow them at all and simply cut off signals to the brain. That said, I again have no way to confirm or deny any of my assumptions, so again with nothing to do, I return to waiting.

Days pass. I am unsure how many, but I am certain that the time that I have spent here is somewhere between three days and a week. I also come to the conclusion that the cages simply slow bodily needs, as I feel a very slowly growing hunger, a hunger that gets worse as the days pass. The hunger gnaws and twists and turns, slowly expanding to occupy the entirety of my mind. With nothing else to focus on, hunger seems to be the only thing in the world, a pain that grows ceaselessly with no relent.

When what I feel to have been a week passes, the auctioneers finally feel it fit to feed us. It seems to be those weird and strangely nutritious brains that I have eaten previously. While I previously felt disgust at eating one, now I only wish that there were more. While the brain takes the edge off of my hunger, it is hardly enough to satisfy me. After eating, a process that takes less than a minute, I return to waiting for the auction to start.

Perhaps ten days after initially being locked up, my wish is finally answered. I hear the door loudly open, followed by a roar that clearly demands compliance. "Alright you lot! We're having an auction today, so prepare yourselves for exhibition in any way you can. The next auction won't be for another month, so if you can't manage to look alive for this one, many of you won't [be] alive for the next one!"

I can't see what's going on, but I can hear many of the cages being unlocked. Occasionally, I hear grumbles of annoyance indicating that some of the [products] have [expired] . Eventually, my cage is unblocked and I am yanked out rather sharply, dropping a few feet to the floor. The fully armored guard that pulled me out wordlessly forces me into a set of manacles on my wrists before shoving me in the direction of the door, where many of the slaves are already lined up under the supervision of numerous guards.

Walking is initially quite difficult, my legs having undergone noticeable atrophy in their time since last use, but I am able to stumble over to my place in line. I turn to the woman in front of me, and ask "Do you know any of the details of how today is going to go?"

Before she can respond, a guard smacks me in the back of the head. "No talking."

The back of my head stinging, I raise my eyebrow at the woman, who shakes her head silently in response. [Oh well. I'm sure to know myself, in due time.] Once all of the slaves have been released and put into a line, a chain is threaded through everyone's manacles, tying us together. We are then led slowly through a maze of hallways before going out onto an elevated platform in front of a ginormous room with many elevated rings of seats. The seats are very full, with seats in the back generally being held by clearly poorer people, while wealthy aristocratic individuals hold many of the front seats. Unlike the merchants and commoners farther from the action, many of the nobles wear masks.

I notice that many of my fellow slaves straighten their backs and broaden their shoulders to appear to be in better health than actuality. I mimic them, walking slowly and confidently across the stage. I hear many murmurs from the crowd on the physique of various slaves, as well as reminders that physique is unimportant when compared with skills. Once we have all passed through the room, we gather in a back room where all the other goods to be sold are already waiting, presumably having already been shown to the audience so that they may get an idea of the goods available today.

As soon as we are off the stage, the auctioneer with whom I am most familiar takes our place. "Ladies and gentlemen, merchants and commoners, we welcome you here today to our auction! We have many rare and valuable goods here today, and we hope that you will be able to find an amazing deal that you will be very happy with! We have given you a quick glimpse of everything that will be sold here today, and be assured that everything will be properly explained so you know for certain what you are buying. We guarantee that every item will be described to the best of our ability and no inferior goods will be willingly sold. So, without further ado, let us commence!"

From there the auction proceeds smoothly, with goods of all uses and all price levels being presented one by one. Everything, from farm tools to a magical potion to a giant sapphire, is auctioned off. For hour after hour the auctioneer skillfully sells nearly every good that is brought to the stage, with the exception of a few specialist goods with very high starting bid amounts that no one seems willing to offer.

"Magic Gauntlets, able to give the user a level of power equal to Greater Strength Lvl. 1! Starting bid of 150 gold pieces… 200… 300… 1000 gold pieces! Going once, going twice, sold!"

[It seems as though only the nobles can afford magical gear. Even the single-use Potion of Fire Resistance sold for a dozen gold pieces earlier. If gold here holds even a slightly similar value to what it did on earth, that is a price that is far too high for most people to ever afford.]

Eventually, all of the items are sold and the auctioneer moves on to slaves. The first slave on display is a middle aged man who is made to strip to his underwear so that he may be properly viewed. His entire back is covered in scarring, which is explained away by the auctioneer with noticeable skill– "While it is true that this product was quite prone to malfunctioning when it was new, it has been properly honed to a well-functioning state over its many years." It is actually rather astounding how easily the auctioneer refers to his wares as products as opposed to people.

The auctioneer manages to get 300 silver pieces for the slave, who is sold to a farmer wearing such poor clothing that the slave probably equals a quarter of his yearly income. To me, the most shocking thing is the price: a quarter of the cost of a single use potion that gives temporary resistance to fire. Sure, the slave is rather old, but only equal in value to a single potion? Come on! I better sell for at least a thousand gold! It would be downright [insulting] to be valued lower than a drink!

Next up an emaciated young woman clutching a baby to her chest. "By mandate of the Church of the Three Deities, no living non-plant/animal product under the age of seven shall be separated from its mother. Therefore, these products are to be sold together. Neither has any abilities to make note of, other than the older one's slight proficiency for cooking. Starting bid of 50 silver each- which is a hundred for both."

For a moment, no one bids. Then, just when I think that the auctioneer will start pontificating on the value of the slave, someone who I can not see from my position to the side of the stage bids.

"150 silver? 100 silver going once, going twice, sold to the representative of the Church of the Three Deities."

I turn in confusion to the slave to my left, who explains: "The Church is known to purchase cheap slaves from time to time in order to free them. They are particularly partial towards women and children, but they have been known to buy and free exceptionally cheap old men from time to time. It is every slave's dream to be bought by the church." I nod in thanks and return my attention to the scene on the stage, where another slave has been led.

One by one, the number of slaves separating me from the stage diminishes. Strong men, pretty women, healthy children, and anyone capable of magic have no trouble selling for a good price. The women and children that no one is willing to pay for are usually bought by the church, and any man in somewhat decent condition is bought by the military. That said, there is a far greater percentage of slaves that fail to sell than any other good. Weak men almost never sell, and the church seems unwilling to buy every woman, particularly those with high starting bids. Knowing that I am likely to starve to death should I not be sold today, I cannot help but feel bad for the slaves that fail to sell and are led offstage with looks of pure dismay upon their faces.

As the auction goes on, fewer and fewer of the slaves are being sold. The church has stopped bidding entirely, and the army is being far more selective. Having already seen hundreds of slaves, the audience is getting rather bored and many have already left. I feel a growing fear as I realize that I, too, may not sell. That fear is enhanced by the stupid effect of my madness, stimulating an animalistic desire to flee mindlessly from this auction that is invoking such terror in me. I have to remind myself that I can be killed as easily as the pushing of a button should I run away, and that said death would return me to the darkness of death, in order to keep myself from running.

Eventually, finally, it is my turn. I'm led up onto the stage and made to stand in various poses so that the crowd can appreciate my ample musculature. "Here we have a male in amazing physical condition. However, its physicality is only a small portion of its value; to properly appreciate that, we must first announce its skills. On top of being level 15, it has Greater Pain Resistance Lvl. 7, Moderate Swordsmanship Lvl. 9, and is capable of magic. Furthermore, it has many other highly leveled skills, as well as many proficiencies- including a leveling proficiency." To this, the crowd erupts into many 'oohs' and 'ahhs.'

"However, I sadly must also mention that it has a rather severe defect: Greater Madness." To this, a collective gasp emits from the crowd. "That said, the product has been verified by the church to not pose a significant threat, though they have also ruled that it is not fully right in the head. For that reason, the starting bid is going to be rather low, especially considering all of the skills. Starting off: 1 gold coin!"

I only have time to note that that is triple the amount that he paid for me before my attention is taken by the fact that only three people have bid. Apparently having a high level of Madness is even more of a problem then I thought. The auctioneer himself also seems rather surprised though; I can clearly see the look of disappointment on his face.

"Alright! One gold, 500 silver!" With that one of the bidders drops out, leaving just the army buyer and an independent bidder.

"Two gold! Three gold! Four gold!" Finally, at four gold, the other independent bidder drops out leaving me destined for the military. I can only hope that they'll take good care of me, considering how much they spent.

With that, I'm shuffled off to the side of the stage that I had entered the room from and added to a group of male slaves already in a pen marked with a sign, with the word 'Army' hastily painted onto it.

From there I watch as the few remaining slaves are displayed, of which only a handful are bought. I notice that the military representative is no longer bidding at all; perhaps I fully exhausted his funds? If so, that would surely be a pleasant surprise.

Finally, after the last slave is led away in tears without getting a single bid, the auctioneer addresses the crowd. "I thank you all for attending today's auction. I apologize sincerely to anyone who did not find anything that they wanted, and hope that they will have better luck on their next visit. For those that bought anything, your goods will be off to the right side of the stage (your right of course!). Please prepare your coins before arrival to allow for as smooth a process as possible. Farewell, and good night!" And with that, the auctioneer gives a deep bow and heads off of the stage.