Murmurs rippled through the audience.

Some whistled. Some raised their glasses. Others began to push toward the edge of the stage.

He tossed the card aside and spread his arms wide: “Gentlemen, the bidding starts at——three thousand.”

No sooner had he spoken than someone in the crowd raised a bidding paddle.

The Auctioneer didn’t rush to announce a price.

He stepped back, allowing the spotlight to focus on the entrance at the side of the stage.

There, a cage lay covered by a red cloth.

He walked over, placed his hand on the cloth, and smiled at the audience.

“But first——let me show you what you’re buying.”

The moment the cloth was pulled back, the murmurs below fell silent for a second.

The girl curled up inside the cage, trembling all over.

She was far too small; the cage was far too big for her.

To be precise, she was so thin that her collarbones jutted out and her ribs were clearly visible, one by one.

Red ropes were tied around her body, like an ill-fitting garment that couldn’t quite cover anything.

She kept her head down, her shoulders shaking.

In that brief silence, someone swallowed hard.

Then the Auctioneer reached out and pulled her from the cage.

The girl could barely stand. Her legs trembled, from thigh to ankle, her toes curling as they touched the ground.

She dared not lift her head or move—she just stood there, her hands at a loss as to where to put them, finally clasping them together.

The Auctioneer paid her no mind.

He took her by the arm and led her in a slow circle, as if showcasing a brand-new car.

“Nineteen years old. Verified. Certificate available.”

He reached up and lifted her chin, forcing the audience to get a clear look at her face.

The girl was forced to tilt her head back, tears streaming down from the corners of her eyes.

But she dared not look away or close her eyes—she simply held her head up, letting everyone see.

Someone in the audience whistled.

The Auctioneer released her hand. His hand slid down until it rested on those red ropes.

“Inspection is welcome——after the purchase.”

Someone in the audience chuckled.

The Auctioneer chuckled too. He took a step back and gestured to the side.

A server approached, holding a tray.

On the tray lay a bullwhip.

Black, slender, and long.

When the girl saw the bullwhip, her whole body shuddered as if struck by a whip.

Someone in the audience shouted, “Show us!”

The Auctioneer smiled and raised the whip.

“The customer is always right.”

The bullwhip lashed against the girl’s back.

Not with enough force to break the skin—just enough.

Just enough to make her hurt. Just enough to steal her voice.

A red welt appeared on her back from the lash.

The girl stumbled forward. She bit her lip, refusing to cry out.

Yet her entire body shook, trembling like a leaf in the wind; her knees buckled, then she braced herself and straightened up again.

Training had made it clear: kneeling was forbidden. It would ruin the Marketable appearance.

The lash. Another red welt, slanted across the first.

The audience began raising their paddles.

“Thirty-five hundred!”

“Four!”

“Forty-five——”

The Auctioneer counted as he delivered the third lash.

Finally, the girl couldn’t hold on any longer.

End of Chapter 12: Chapter 12