Slavery and Trade

"Let's settle on a smooth 9 Cont for this red blood, as it still has some utility."

Elliot lay motionless, chained to the cold stone floor. Darkness enveloped him, pierced only by a bluish light filtering in from outside. His eyes were not tightly shut anymore, merely lightly closed, but his mouth widened in astonishment despite his dire circumstances. Three figures stood outside the darkened room, now transformed into a faint bluish-violet hue—two men and one woman. The man who spoke had a prominent mustache and a somewhat plump physique. Next to him stood a sharply dressed man, wearing a crisp white linen shirt with a collar, a black tie, and cotton trousers held up by suspenders, complemented by polished black leather shoes. His sleek black hair was slicked back, contrasting sharply with the woman's long, flowing brown locks.

The stocky slave trader sported a receding hairline and a monocle perched on his eye. The woman, in contrast, wore a clean beige skirt paired with a white blouse, complemented by a beige corset-like top and small brown leather shoes. Simple white gloves adorned her hands, and a brown bonnet rested atop her head. Yet, Elliot's wonder did not stem from their attire or the salty, fishy scent wafting in with the waves. It was the sun—it was azure blue! Upon closer inspection, the skin of the three individuals shimmered like the moon in the night sky.

"Why is the sun blue?" Elliot pondered, but soon his amazement faded, replaced by a grim expression of terror. "Am I outside of Earth? Ren, what has happened to you? Where are you?" He bitterly glared out from the darkness, chained, at the three figures slowly approaching him in the violet-blue gloom.

The slender man made a demand, "7 Cont." In a mere moment, the plump man with the monocle retorted, extending his hand toward Elliot. "He's relatively unscathed, and he's survived the virus. Stamina is rare among red bloods, which is why I must stick to my 9 Cont. Although the demand is currently high due to the invasion of the Earth continent, the quality of such specimens with no significant damage or trauma is quite low." The woman chimed in, crossing her arms and wrinkling her brow. "That may be true, but what good is a red blood who possesses no strength? Just look at this creature; he has relatively thin arms and legs compared to the red bloods that go for 10 Cont to 1 Elis and 6 Celi on the market. Our final offer stands at 7 Cont and 6 Celi!"

Her raised eyebrows and the tilt of her chin conveyed unmistakable arrogance as she negotiated. The slave trader yielded, clapping his sausage-like fingers together, a silver ring adorned with an orange crystal glittering on his index finger. "If that's your final offer, allow me to provide the contract and guarantee in just a moment." He maintained a grin, revealing somewhat yellowed teeth. As the couple awaited the return of the slave trader, the man with slicked-back hair noticed the orange crystal glinting on the trader's fingers.

"Excuse me, but is that orange crystal possibly the blood of an orange-blooded?" The slave trader's grin widened further. "Indeed, esteemed sir, you have splendid eyes." The man with slicked-back hair moistened his lips with his blue tongue. "How much would you sell this exquisite piece for?"

The slave trader responded, his smile growing broader, "Oh ho ho, you are quite specific, esteemed sir. This ring is an artifact containing highly concentrated blood of an orange-blooded, totaling 25 milliliters, blended with merely 3 additional milliliters of blue blood!" The trader began to moisten his lips with his blue tongue. "Esteemed sir, it is enhanced by our kind, the blue-blooded, and not weakly. It provides resistance against spiritual attacks that affect the mind; moreover, it significantly enhances striking power, and the hand wielding this artifact becomes as hard as steel!" His voice grew louder with each word, laughter ringing in the air. "But because I like you both so much, I would be willing to part with this artifact for only 55 Elis. You should know that the market price is 5 Elis higher! Ohohoho!"

While the plump man rubbed his mustache with his sausage fingers, the man and woman conferred in the distance, out of Elliot's sight, who remained chained in the darkness. Elliot's shoes and socks had vanished, as had his trousers and shirt. His underwear remained, along with a bite mark, a deep cut on his left hand, and numerous scrapes, mixed with red and blue blood. Elliot's gaze darkened, his furrowed brows fixed on the bluish light. His thoughts were clouded; there was simply too much information, making his head throb incessantly. Damn it, what does all this mean? Celli, Cont, and Elis? Is this some kind of currency? Do these people want to buy me? No, these aren't humans; what human has a blue tongue or skin that glows bluish?

Elliot grasped his head with trembling hands, curling in on himself as his stomach began to churn.

And then there's their attire—so formal, not to mention this "artifact" they spoke of. Blood and more blood? What is all of this?! Ren!

Elliot's eyes began to glisten. Tears streamed down his slightly dirty cheeks. He curled his back further until his forehead touched his knees, murmuring to himself, "Ren, please don't be dead…"

Elliot remained still, the only sounds in the darkness being his quiet sobs and muffled cries. The man with slicked-back hair replied to the slave trader, "We'll purchase this red blood along with the artifact." He reached into a pocket of his crisp white linen shirt and retrieved five silver notes, made of paper, depicting a breathtaking young woman with long hair. In the corners, the number ten was engraved four times—twice on the front and twice on the back. Along with the silver notes were five copper notes, which resembled the silver Elis notes but bore the number one instead of ten. As the slave trader extended his sausage fingers, he added, noticing the man rummaging through his trouser pockets for change, "You know what, esteemed sir? You can keep the 7 Cont and 6 Celi; let's get straight to the formalities." The slave trader tucked away the five silver and copper notes, continuing to grin with his slightly yellowish teeth, as he handed over the papers and an orange pen.

...

In no time, everything was read and signed, and the couple made their way toward Elliot. "Red blood!" the man shouted, sliding the silver ring with the orange gemstone onto his index finger. Elliot did not react immediately; he merely lifted his head a few seconds after the shout.

"You wretched beast, dare you look at me?!" The man, with slicked-back hair, screamed loudly before clenching his teeth. "I am now your master and lord! Edwin Maston, my name!" Edwin looked down, noticing that Elliot's gaze remained slightly upward after he spoke, not dropping down to his leather shoes. "You filthy red-blooded scum!" Edwin balled his hands into fists, hesitating momentarily. Finally, he extended his index finger on his right hand, the artifact glinting, and pressed it lightly against Elliot's shoulder.

"Arghhh!" Elliot cried out instantly, recoiling instinctively, but Edwin's finger followed his retreat, pressing harder until Elliot's bare shoulder collided with the cold, dark stone wall behind him. "Arghhh!" Elliot's eyes flickered, and he clenched his teeth tightly. The veins in his neck, temples, and limbs throbbed, twisting with a life of their own. "Please! Please, stop!" Elliot sobbed, gasping for air, his cries barely escaping his lips. Yet, Edwin only grinned, his blue eyes sparkling with delight and amusement. "Ahahaha… ha." With a final sigh, Edwin added before vanishing into the dimly lit room, "From this day forward, you belong to me, and we will have so much fun together… a great deal, hehe."

As Edwin and his wife disappeared, Elliot continued to weep, tears streaming down his cheeks. He groaned, the pain coursing through his body transforming from a sharp sting into a dull throb. His left shoulder was a sickening shade of purple and blue, a massive bruise forming from merely the pressure of Edwin's finger. "Arghhh!" Elliot continued to groan as the slave trader appeared before him, loosening the black shackles with silver chains that bound Elliot. The clanking sounds briefly drowned out Elliot's moans. The slave trader, grinning, stood in the corner, snuffling through his notes like a pig. "What are you waiting for? Go to your master and mistress!"

Elliot's bare feet touched the cold stone floor, and he clutched his left shoulder with his right hand, Damn it! Elliot was not just crying on the outside but also within. As he murmured to himself while stepping through the door that had previously let in a bluish light, he whispered, "Why must the world end this way…"