At the Sabaody Archipelago,
The wooden door of the auction house in Grove 1 swung open. Ryan led the way with Hancock, followed closely by Daz Bones and Rob Lucci on either side, exuding an icy aura that kept others at bay.
As for the rest of the crew, they had stayed on the ship, clearly uninterested in the auction. Why these two, originally the coldest of the group, had chosen to come along... who knew what they were thinking!
The interior was dimly lit, with only the glow from crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling barely illuminating the tiered seating. The front VIP seats were upholstered in dark red velvet, while the ordinary seats at the back were crammed tightly together.
The venue was already packed with all sorts of people: Pirates puffing on cigars, nobles dripping with jewels, and shady underground merchants with sinister glares. They ignored each other but all had their eyes fixed on the central auction stage draped in black cloth.
The appearance of Ryan and Hancock instantly silenced the room for half a second. Even without considering their status as Seven Warlords, Boa Hancock's title as the "World's Most Beautiful Woman" was enough to draw everyone's attention.
Some marveled at Hancock's beauty, secretly raising binoculars for a better look. Others recognized her identity and instinctively lowered their voices. But they only watched from a distance—no one dared approach.
It was clear to anyone with eyes that Ryan's group radiated an intimidating presence, making it obvious they were not to be trifled with.
Hancock, held by the waist by Ryan, paid no mind to the attention. Her fingers tightly clutched the hem of her clothes, her eyes filled with disgust for this place. Yet she didn't pull away, forced to follow Ryan to a corner, trying to avoid the surrounding gazes.
Ryan didn't head for the VIP seats in the front or the ordinary seats. Instead, he leaned against the wall in a corner, his gaze casually sweeping across the room until he spotted several familiar faces.
In the front row on the right, Eustass Kid sat with his legs crossed, his crimson hair standing out vividly in the dim light. Beside him, Killer wore his mask, while further ahead, Trafalgar Law—dressed in his signature black coat and spotted hat—rested his chin on one hand.
Ryan glanced at Kid before looking away, dismissing him as nothing more than an arrogant brat, a mere "punk" unworthy of his interest.
But Trafalgar Law... Due to consuming the IQ Killer Drug, Ryan had lost a significant portion of his lifespan and had yet to find a remedy. The Ope Ope Fruit might just be the key to resolving this predicament, prompting Ryan to scrutinize him more closely.
As Ryan observed, a faint tremble came from beside him. Turning to Hancock, he saw her face had turned deathly pale, her hands gripping her clothes so tightly her knuckles whitened. Her breathing was almost imperceptibly rapid.
Following her gaze, he saw two Celestial Dragons wearing transparent bubble helmets lounging arrogantly in the central VIP seats—Rosward and Shalria.
At the sight of these lofty Celestial Dragons, Hancock's trembling intensified. Fear and humiliation churned within her as memories of being imprisoned by the Celestial Dragons and branded with the "Hoof of the Flying Dragon" surged uncontrollably to the forefront of her mind. Instinctively, she pressed closer to Ryan—not out of reliance, but...
Instinctively wanting to avoid the two figures that sent chills down her spine, Hancock didn't even dare to glance at them from the corner of her eye.
Despite her inner loathing for Ryan, compared to the Celestial Dragons, she would rather stay close to Ryan to feel a sense of security.
Seeing Hancock's disheartened state, Ryan didn't say anything. His gaze shifted to the gradually bustling auction venue, a faint smile curling at the corners of his lips. "The auction is about to begin!"
"Quiet!" With a dull thud, the curtain behind the auction stage was drawn back. A man with an afro and dressed in a flashy suit stepped forward, holding an auction gavel—it was the host, Disco.
"Welcome, distinguished guests, to the No. 1 GR Auction House!" Disco's face was plastered with an ingratiating smile. His eyes swept over the VIP seats in the front row before his voice suddenly rose sharply. "Now, let us begin today's feast!"
As soon as his words fell, two masked guards dragged a chain onto the stage. At the end of the chain was a blond man, a heavy collar locked around his neck, struggling futilely.
"The first item up for auction hails from Teroia in the West Blue. A proud Pirate from a musical family, skilled in both piano and violin..." Disco's voice was shrill as he reached out and patted the man's shoulder. "The starting bid is 480,000 Belly! Bidding starts now!"
"500,000 Belly!"
"600,000 Belly!"
The venue immediately erupted with overlapping bids. Some whistled, others slammed tables, their gazes fixed on the blond man as if appraising a lifeless object.
Hancock's body tensed abruptly, her breathing growing rapid. A mist clouded her eyes, but she stubbornly held back her tears.
The collar around the blond man's neck and his futile struggles acted like a mirror, instantly reflecting the days when she had been imprisoned by the Celestial Dragons. The humiliation of being chained and paraded as a "commodity" surged back with the scene unfolding on stage.
Sensing Hancock's stiffness, Ryan leaned in close, a hint of mockery in his light chuckle. "Tell me, if the 'World's Most Beautiful Woman,' the Pirate Empress, were tied up and put on auction, what kind of astronomical price would she fetch? She might even set a record for this auction house."
"You!" Hancock whipped her head around to glare at Ryan, fury blazing in her eyes, while a deep-seated fear welled up from within.
This man clearly knew how much she despised slave auctions, yet he still joked about it—it was like rubbing salt in her wounds. Especially when she considered the possibility that he might actually do it, the thought was worse than death.
"Just a joke, don't be scared." Ryan chuckled softly at Hancock's fearful expression. His hand slid down her straight spine, gently caressing her full curves, his tone teasing. "You're my private possession. From head to toe, inside and out, you belong to me alone. How could I allow outsiders to touch you, let alone put you up for auction?"
Hancock bit her lower lip, wanting to retort, "Who's your private possession?" But the words died in her throat. The anger stirred by his "joke" gradually faded, replaced by an indescribable, peculiar feeling. She awkwardly turned her face away.
This man always humiliated her in the most domineering ways, yet his earlier words—"I won't allow outsiders to do anything"—had inexplicably eased some of the tension in her nerves.
The auction grew increasingly lively, with over a dozen "merchandise" sold in quick succession. Just as the atmosphere reached its peak, the wooden door suddenly swung open. Ryan glanced over, recognized those "familiar" faces, and a faint smile curled at the corners of his lips.
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