As the screen switched again, a small, yellow-haired boy with a childish face appeared in the frame. He leaned quietly against the bars of the cage, his eyes hollow and lifeless, as if all vitality had left him.
Upon closer inspection, a bright red, glaring product code was clearly branded on his slender neck, evidently freshly seared on with a hot iron, still emitting faint wisps of steam.
At this moment, he looked incredibly pitiful. He wore a tattered gray garment, which might have once been pristine white, but due to prolonged wear and accumulated dirt, it had long since turned dull gray, like a worn-out rag.
The clothes were riddled with tears, as if silently recounting the suffering and torment he had endured. And those stains were even more like indelible marks of pain deep within his soul, deeply etched onto this thin garment.
[*Stelle*: Oh my god... he looks so pitiful.]
[*Huohuo*: This appearance... it's so tragic.]
[*Jing Yuan*: The Xianzhou Luofu has always forbidden slave trade, but alas, the vast galaxy means there are always pan-galactic systems that still retain this slave system.]
[*Aventurine*: ...]
A mocking voice rang out, "You're back, Number 35. Do you like your amulet?"
At this moment, outside the cold and sturdy cage, a man dressed in luxurious clothes, with a handsome face that also revealed a hint of cunning and evil, leaned against the railing, a still-lit cigarette dangling from his mouth. He took a deep drag, slowly exhaled the smoke, and stared at Aventurine in the cage with a gaze full of mockery.
"Can a product code also be considered an amulet?" Despite his extremely weakened state, Aventurine's words still carried an unyielding sarcasm.
"Shut up. I didn't give you permission to speak, Tzigania's hyena." The man's roar echoed through the room, his eyes full of anger and authority.
Aventurine merely panted angrily, his lips trembling slightly, but he ultimately chose to remain silent. Clearly, he feared this man and dared not defy his orders easily.
"Those guys in black suits didn't say much, so I don't know what methods you used to survive that massacre back then."
However, he then changed his tone: "But I think you're very lucky, so I bought you. From now on, you and your luck are my assets, understand?"
At this point, the man paused slightly, then continued to issue his instructions: "Your first task is very simple: besides you, I have also purchased another thirty… hmm, to be precise, thirty-four slaves."
He lowered his voice and said darkly:
"Go play a 'game' with them—two days, come out alive, and prove that your abilities are genuine."
"Are you crazy?" Aventurine asked with a face full of shock. "Aren't you afraid you'll waste your money?"
"Hahaha, just checking the goods," he said triumphantly:
"I have plenty of money, little golden boy. The pan-galactic slave market is never short of self-important brats like you." The man looked at the young boy before him with disdain, his eyes full of contempt and scorn.
"But…," he changed his tone, scrutinizing Aventurine up and down, "you have a good appearance, so many customers have bet their fortunes on this skinny kid. Go on, don't disappoint your master."
[*Topaz*: People who judge by appearance usually die miserably, especially this unlucky fellow.]
[*Sushang*: That's right! Since Mr. Aventurine is now a high-ranking official in the IPC, is that annoying guy dead already, hmph… If I saw something like this in the Xianzhou Luofu, I would definitely cut him down with my sword!]
[*Topaz*: It's a bit inappropriate for me to say this, other than the person involved, but I think there will likely be relevant content later, so perhaps you can look forward to it.]
On the screen, hearing this, the anger in Aventurine's heart instantly ignited. He clenched his fists tightly, gritting his teeth, forcing himself not to erupt on the spot. However, he ultimately couldn't suppress his inner rage. He took a deep breath, and suddenly spoke, his voice filled with unconcealed fury, questioning the other party: "How much did you spend?"
The man clearly hadn't anticipated such a reaction from Aventurine. He paused, a little bewildered, and asked, "What?"
"I said," Aventurine's eyes were wide, like brass bells, staring intently at the man before him, as if he wanted to devour him alive, squeezing out the words through gritted teeth: "How much money did you spend to buy me?"
"Oh, you want to know that?" The man's lips curled into a slight, disdainful, and dismissive smile, and he responded softly, "Alright. Sixty Ta'amba, no more, no less."
Upon hearing this number, Aventurine's fists involuntarily clenched, but his gaze remained fixed on the other party, unyielding, then he gritted his teeth and spoke: "I want to gamble with you… half of sixty, thirty coins… If I can come back alive, you have to give them to me. Do you dare to gamble?"
"Haha, you want to gamble with me? Alright, you've got guts!" The man first let out a few wild laughs, then his expression suddenly turned cold, his voice becoming utterly ruthless:
—"But I'm sorry, that's impossible. Slave, don't forget your place. You don't even have the right to sit at the table."
"You are just a chip, a life thrown out by others. Either you bring back more chips for your master, or… you never come back." When he said the last sentence, the man's tone became even colder, the implied threat unmistakable.
"'All, or nothing at all'—don't you dare disappoint me, lucky one."
The man coldly dropped these words, then turned and left, leaving Aventurine standing alone, a raging inferno of anger burning within him.
"All, or nothing at all…" Aventurine muttered the phrase, as if to deeply engrave it into his soul. He clenched his fists tightly, his nails almost digging into his palms, feeling immense resentment and unwillingness about his current situation.
[*March 7th*: The slave owner's words became his own mantra… ]
[*Dr. Ratio*: Some people are healed by childhood their whole lives; but some people spend their whole lives healing childhood.]
[*Sushang*: Speaking of which, why doesn't Aventurine deliberately hide his history as a slave?]
[*A Certain Pan-Galactic Market Boss*: You wouldn't know, but first of all...]
[*March 7th*: Stop, stop, stop, that's enough, I absolutely don't want to hear it.]