100x Rebate Sharing System: Retired Incubus Wants to Marry & Have Kids

Chapter 750: Chapter 749- An Auction within the Ship

He ignored them. All of them. His step, measured and purposeless, carried him past the main quay. Past the legitimate businesses. Past the clean ships and the honest sailors. Toward the back dock.

The back dock, the part of the harbor that was not on any map, was where the criminal element operated. The buildings, old and crumbling, leaned against each other. The alleyways, narrow and dark, were the domain of smugglers and thieves. The people, the men and women who lingered in doorways and on corners, were the dregs.

They looked at him. The ’what-is-a-nobleman-doing-here’ looks that were also the ’is-he-lost’ questions. One of them, a bulky man with a scar across his face, approached. The ’he-looks-like-easy-money’ assessment that was also the ’I-will-rob-him’ intention.

The man stepped forward. His body, the large and muscled frame, was meant to intimidate. His hand, which had been at his side, rose. The ’give-me-your-money’ gesture that was also the ’or-I-will-hurt-you’ threat.

Then he felt it.

The fear. The primal, ’I-am-prey’ fear that originated not from his eyes but from his gut. The sensation, the feeling of being in the presence of a predator, was not human. It was animal. The ’something-in-front-of-me-will-kill-me’ recognition that every living creature possessed and that civilization had buried.

His hand, which had been raised, dropped. His step, which had been forward, stopped. His body, which had been aggressive, went cold. The sweat, which had been forming on his brow from exertion, was now forming from terror. His legs, which had been steady, were weak. His bladder, which had been controlled, was threatening to fail.

He looked down. The ’I-cannot-look-at-him’ response that was also the ’if-I-do-not-make-eye-contact-maybe-he-will-not-kill-me’ instinct. His body, the bulky and muscled body that had intimidated dozens of men, was trembling. Like a girl. The ’I-am-not-the-predator-here’ realization that was also the ’I-am-the-prey’ certainty.

The other criminals, who had been watching, saw. The ’what-happened-to-him’ confusion that was also the ’why-is-he-shaking’ question. The bulky man, who had been the toughest among them, was trembling like a leaf. The ’whatever-is-in-front-of-him-is-not-human’ understanding that made them all step back.

Viktor walked. Past the trembling man. Past the other criminals. Past the crumbling buildings and the dark alleyways. His step, which had not changed, was the same measured pace. The ’I-am-not-concerned’ pace that was also the ’none-of-you-are-worth-my-attention’ dismissal.

He arrived at the ship. The ’Saltwound’, the pirate galleon, was anchored at the back dock. The gangplank, the wooden bridge that connected ship to shore, was guarded. A pirate, the man who had been posted at the entrance, was leaning on the rail. His body, thin and wiry, suggested agility. His eyes, which had been half-closed, opened when Viktor approached.

He climbed. The gangplank, which creaked under his weight, was crossed. The pirate, who had been leaning, straightened. His hand, which had been on his cutlass, moved.

"Auction is not yet started," the pirate said. His voice, rough and challenging, was the ’you-should-not-be-here’ warning. "You shouldn’t be—"

"I want to directly purchase the mermaid for myself," Viktor said. His voice, calm and even, carried the ’I-am-not-here-to-bid’ authority that was also the ’I-am-here-to-buy’ statement. "I have brought money."

He showed the pouch. The leather bag, which he produced from his pocket, was lifted. The clink, the sound of gold coins shifting, was audible. The weight, the heavy weight of twenty gold coins, was felt through the leather.

The pirate’s eyes, which had been challenging, softened. The ’he-has-money’ recognition that was also the ’the-captain-will-want-to-see-him’ calculation. His hand, which had been on his cutlass, released.

"Indeed, indeed," the pirate said. His voice, which had been rough, was now smooth. The ’welcome-customer’ tone that was also the ’please-do-not-leave’ plea. "Come."

He gestured. To the other pirates, who had been watching from the deck. The eye contact, the ’keep-an-eye-on-him’ signal, was exchanged. Three men, who had been leaning on the rail, straightened. Their eyes, which followed Viktor as he walked, were alert.

He walked. Through the deck. Past the mer-men, who had been resting. Past the blood stains, which had been left by the human woman. Past the cushions and the wine bottles and the discarded clothing. To the hall room, the large cabin below deck where the auction was held.

The hall room, which was lit by lanterns, was arranged like a theater. The stage, at the front, was curtained. The seats, which were wooden benches, were empty. The air, thick with the smell of salt and sweat and the faint copper of blood, was close.

He sat. On the stage. Not in the seats. On the stage, beside the curtain. The ’I-am-not-an-audience-member’ statement that was also the ’I-am-the-buyer’ claim. His posture, relaxed and confident, was the ’I-have-done-this-before’ ease.

The curtain moved.

The woman who emerged was the daughter. The red-haired half-breed, whose legs bore scales and whose ears were finned, walked onto the stage. Her body, the toned and muscled frame, was dressed in a loose shirt and shorts. Her feet, which were bare, made no sound on the wooden stage. Her hand, which held a glass of wine, was steady. Her eyes, golden and bright, found Viktor’s face.

She laughed. The ’I-did-not-expect-this’ laughter that was also the ’how-amusing’ assessment. She drank. The wine, red and deep, was swallowed. She spoke.

"I did not expect a noble man to really arrive," she said. Her voice, which was melodic but not as resonant as her mother’s, carried the ’you-are-brave-or-stupid’ assessment. "However, since a gentleman has arrived, I should say, the auction has yet not started. So the bid would be very, very, very high. And you might not be able to pay."

The challenge, the ’prove-you-have-money’ challenge, was delivered with a smile. The ’I-want-to-see-you-squirm’ smile that was also the ’you-are-my-prey’ certainty.

"1000 gold coins," Viktor said.

The silence was instant. The words, the ’one-thousand-gold-coins’ number, hit the room like a physical blow. The pirates, who had been lurking in the shadows, froze. The daughter, whose glass had been at her lips, stopped. The wine, which had been about to enter her mouth, stayed in the glass.

Everyone looked at each other. The ’did-he-just-say-a-thousand’ looks that were also the ’is-he-crazy’ questions. The ’one-thousand-gold-coins’ amount, which was more than most pirates saw in a lifetime of raiding, was staggering.

Viktor lifted the pouch. The leather bag, which contained twenty gold coins, was raised. The clink, the sound that had impressed the guard, was nothing compared to what he was claiming.

"100 gold coins now," he said. His voice, calm and unhurried, carried the ’here-is-proof’ authority. "And once I am sure about the goods, I will pay the other 900 gold coins by calling my servant here."

The move, the ’I-will-pay-the-rest-later’ move, was calculated. The ’my-servant-will-bring-the-money’ claim that was also the ’I-am-not-carrying-a-thousand-coins-on-my-person’ explanation. The bind, the ’you-cannot-kill-me-before-I-pay’ bind, was invisible but absolute. If they killed him now, they would get twenty coins. If they waited, they would get a thousand. The greed, the pirate greed that was their defining characteristic, would not allow them to kill the goose that laid golden eggs.

The daughter, whose glass had been frozen, recovered. The ’this-is-interesting’ recovery that was also the ’he-is-not-what-he-seems’ reassessment. She smiled.

"Indeed, indeed, gentleman," she said. Her voice, which had been challenging, was now accommodating. The ’we-have-a-real-buyer’ tone that was also the ’let-us-see-how-far-he-goes’ curiosity. "1000 is a very good bid to start with. But you need to pay."

The greed, the ’I-want-the-money’ greed that was shining in her golden eyes, was her weakness. Before she could elaborate, before she could set terms, Viktor spoke.

"Where is the mermaid?" he asked. His voice, flat and direct, was the ’I-want-to-see-the-product’ demand. "Show me. How can I trust it’s real?"