Chapter 24: Auction

Chapter 24: The Auction

The impact against the shell, though softened by the water, still sent a noticeable jolt through him. In his sleep, Deng Xi dreamed the Little Mute had caught a hundred fish for him, insisting their deal wasn't over even after the catch.

The little merman happily devoured the fish.

Suddenly, the ocean shuddered, and a tsunami surged, crashing down with overwhelming force. The fish in Deng Xi’s mouth, presumed dead, sprang to life, frantically flapping their bony tails. His meal leaped from his mouth into the abyssal depths, only to burst back out, their skeletal forms growing larger and larger before his eyes, gaping, bloody mouths charging at him alongside the raging wave.

"Don’t eat me!"

Deng Xi jolted awake, bolting upright.

*Thud!*

His sudden movement sent his head crashing against the shell. Rubbing his forehead, he sat dazed for a moment, the lingering terror of his nightmare slowly fading.

He exhaled shakily in relief, rubbing his head. Careful not to disturb the sleeping silver-tailed merman, he gently opened the shell—only to find the seaweed bed opposite him empty.

There were times the Little Mute woke before him. Usually, the silver-tailed one would be waiting quietly by the cave entrance for him to rise.

Deng Xi instinctively looked toward the opening. "Little Mute! Good morning! I just had a really, really scary nightmare—"

The cave entrance was empty.

Deng Xi tilted his head in confusion. "Little Mute?"

He looked left and right, scanning the entire cave, but the familiar shimmer of silver was nowhere to be seen. Panic rising in his chest, he swiftly swam out of the shell.

The Little Mute’s condition was still uncertain; if he had wandered out alone, he might not even find his way back.

Only after leaving the shell did Deng Xi notice something amiss. His nostrils flared slightly as he sniffed the seawater, catching a faint whiff of blood.

But he was unharmed.

Was it the Little Mute’s blood?

His heart lurched. He closed his eyes, concentrating on tracing the scent in the water. The blood had already been diluted by the sea, leaving just a faint trace.

Yet, the merfolk’s keen senses guided him as he swam slowly, pressing a hand against his shell and pressing down firmly with a *click*.

When he opened his eyes, what he saw shocked him—a vast smear of blood. The pinkish shell interior was streaked with dried, mottled stains. His blue eyes shrank in horror as trembling fingers brushed over the marks, coming away bloody.

A rush of terrifying scenarios flooded his mind. The first was what had almost happened to him—left unprotected by the shell, the Little Mute might have been scented by the deep-sea serpents and dragged away as prey.

Could some sea creature have slipped in while the silver-tailed one was weakened from illness and taken his Little Mute?

But he had heard nothing.

No sounds of struggle, no cries of pain, no noise of the Little Mute being dragged away.

Had he slept that deeply?

The bruise from hitting the shell suddenly throbbed with unbearable pain, making it hard to breathe and making his gills tremble. The thought that he might have missed it all nearly suffocated him.

With a powerful flick of his blue tail, Deng Xi tracked the faint blood scent out of the cave. There was still time—there *had* to be.

The Little Mute had found him that day.

This time, *he* would bring the Little Mute back.

Just wait for him.

Deng Xi swam cautiously, the blood scent in the water so faint that he had to focus hard to track it.

He passed through mile after mile of ocean, weaving between countless coral reefs, until he finally broke the surface. The golden-haired and blue-tailed little merman bobbed above the waves, gaping at the massive shape in the distance.

What was that?

Far across the water floated a huge black vessel, larger than any whale. Motionless, it had several dark figures scaling its surface.

They had no tails—their bodies divided into two legs below the waist—yet they moved with eerie agility. After climbing onto the black behemoth, they leaned down, dragging something from the water.

A net, thicker than matted seaweed.

The first thing dragged from the depths was a familiar silver glint.

Unconscious, the silver merman lay motionless in the massive net, blood dripping down the ropes, turning the water below blood-red.

Deng Xi’s eyes widened.

It was his missing Little Mute.

His Little Mute—had been captured.

Deng Xi had never swum so fast. His blue tail drove him toward the black monstrosity with desperate speed. Every time, *every time*, he had rushed like this to save the Little Mute from danger.

*Don’t hurt his Little Mute.*

*Don’t take his Little Mute away.*

A merfolk’s tail was not built for such speed. No matter how hard he pushed, Deng Xi couldn’t gain ground between himself and the retreating black mass. Powerless, he could only watch as the silver form dwindled to a dot before being hauled inside.

Deng Xi didn’t know who they were or what that thing was. He knew nothing—only that if he failed to catch up today, he might never see his Little Mute again.

The silver-tailed one might be tortured, left to die alone in some dark corner, his bones never returning to the sea.

That would be too cruel.

*Don’t go.*

*Just wait for him.*

He would swim faster—so much faster.

Deng Xi fought through turbulent currents, his strength rapidly fading. His tail ached, his gills ached with exhaustion, but he refused to give up. Tears filled his blue eyes, spilling down his cheeks, mingling with the seawater.

This time, the mermaid’s weeping was not swallowed by the ocean—yet the vast, uncaring sea left him utterly alone.

Still, no one could see his tears.

*Almost there—just a little more.*

Hope flared in Deng Xi’s eyes.

After millennia of upgrades, the interstellar cruiser’s speed was beyond reckoning. Yet Deng Xi was nearly upon it—close enough to reach out, his tail thrashing with effort.

But the cruiser had already reached its destination. With another burst of acceleration, it surged forward, leaving the desperate little pursuer far behind.

"Wind speed and direction are favorable—"

"Maximum swimming speed achieved—"

"Fuel is being prepared—"

"Countdown—"

The aide-de-camp urgently issued the command, "Launch."

The Interstellar Era cruise ships, apart from sailing on the sea, could also transform directly, reverting to their battleship configuration. Relying on the propulsion of fuel, they could break through the atmosphere, leave the planet, and dock with the starships waiting in space.

The tranquilizer might not last long on the marshal. Only the specialized treatment pods aboard the starships could soothe the marshal's rampant psychic energy. Though the aide-de-camp was nervously afraid the marshal might break free and wipe out the entire ship, he remained composed, handling the entire procedure with practiced ease—he couldn’t even remember how many times he’d dealt with such emergencies.

The countdown ended.

The battleship cabin launched from the sea in an instant.

The hope that had been within reach shattered completely.

Deng Xi watched helplessly as the dark leviathan suddenly accelerated, carrying the Little Mute farther and farther away from him. Then, just like in his nightmares, the entire sea trembled, giving rise to a massive tsunami.

The dark leviathan, like the fish bones in Deng Xi’s dreams, opened its jaws like a blood-filled chasm and swallowed his Little Mute whole before soaring into the sky in an instant.

The little merman lifted his head high in confusion, unable to help but wonder if his dream had yet to end. Otherwise, how could he be seeing so many bizarre sights? Perhaps the captured Little Mute was just outside the shell where he slept, waiting obediently for him to wake up.

It must all be an illusion.

His Little Mute hadn’t been taken away.

Deng Xi closed his eyes, tears rolling endlessly from his lashes, then cautiously opened them again.

Nothing had changed.

Before him was still the empty sea and the sky he could never reach, no matter how hard he tried.

The sky was so high, so vast.

No matter how Deng Xi flapped his fins, leaping from the sea’s surface, he could never take flight.

He was just a little merman who knew nothing, understood nothing. No matter how high Deng Xi jumped, he could only crash back into the sea, each time feeling pain more intense than the last.

Deng Xi didn’t know.

Between him and the Silver-Tail lay the distance of two eras. The primitive blue planet had nothing but a vast sea where Deng Xi could play freely, while the boundless starry sky was a world he had never set foot in—a place filled with advanced technology he could never comprehend.

All he could do was gaze futilely at the azure sky.

Never had he realized so clearly that he might never see his only kin again.

The sea was left with just one little merman once more.

No one would listen to him seriously, accompany him to sleep, swim with him in the sea, or share joyful meals every day.

Gone.

Deng Xi finally couldn’t hold back, scrunching up his little face as he tilted his head back, stifling all his sobs in his throat. Tears streamed down the corners of his eyes, dampening his already wet golden hair before silently falling into the sea.

The once-chattering little merman suddenly became as quiet in his sorrow as the sea itself, for there was no one left to listen.

So tired.

The exhaustion's aftermath closed around Deng Xi like a nightmare, dragging him down into the sea. He closed his eyes, sinking deeper and deeper until he reached the ocean floor thousands of meters deep.

Deng Xi hugged his big tail, curling into a tiny ball, motionless for a long, long time.

Only when night fell over the sea, plunging it back into darkness, did the curled-up blue tail twitch slightly. The exhausted Deng Xi stiffly pushed himself up, looked around, and rubbed his eyes.

Deng Xi didn’t know where he had swum to. Once he realized he was in an unfamiliar part of the ocean floor, he knew he might not even find his way back to his nest tonight.

There was no trace of silver left to guide him.

Deng Xi swam aimlessly for a bit before giving up and closing his eyes on the ocean floor. A merman’s song suddenly rang out—soft, low-frequency sound waves that traveled through the water, a special call only certain species could hear.

Deng Xi’s call smoothly passed through the blue whale’s blubber layer and into its middle ear.

The blue whale’s response came quickly.

Following the sound, it found Deng Xi sitting motionless on the ocean floor.

The merfolk were sensitive to the emotions of all living things, and creatures that had formed bonds with them could also sense their feelings.

The blue whale, sensing Deng Xi’s obvious melancholy, gently nudged the blue tail with its head. Though the great whale’s strength was slight, Deng Xi was pushed a short distance away.

The blue whale let out a low, apologetic call.

Deng Xi swam back and lay down on the whale’s back, covering his eyes with his arm. His voice was soft. "Great whale, I’m lost. Can you take me back to my nest?"

The blue whale responded with another low call and began to swim.

The little merman on its back fell silent again, his breathing uneven—sometimes light, sometimes heavy—accompanied by muffled sobs. Only after a long, long time did he finally grow still.

Seemingly too exhausted, he had fallen asleep.

The blue whale moved slowly, careful not to wake the little merman on its back. It swam until morning before returning to the waters where it had first found Deng Xi.

The great whale gave a gentle shake.

Deng Xi slid off its back, waking in confusion. He must have cried too much yesterday—his head throbbed painfully. "Are we there?"

His blue eyes curved slightly as he whispered his thanks. "Thank you, great whale."

The great whale nudged Deng Xi and let out a soft call.

"You don't have to smile if you're unhappy."

Deng Xi simply patted the whale’s head and said quietly, "Wait for me, great whale. I’ll be back soon."

The nest was silent. The rose-colored shell still bore traces of yesterday’s bloodstains, and the lustrous white old shell lay wide open, but the seaweed bed was empty.

Deng Xi picked through his belongings.

He couldn’t carry either of the big shells by himself. If he called the dolphins to help push them, it would take far too long. Deng Xi stroked the old shell he had slept in for so long and patted the new one he had found with the Little Mute.

He decided to leave them behind.

Then there were his treasured collections—beautiful shells and conches—but there were too many. If Deng Xi tried to carry them all, one would drop every time he swam.

Finally, he chose a conch that could hear the sound of the waves—the second prettiest one—and took it with him.

Before leaving, Deng Xi took one last look at the nest he had shared with Little Mute for so long. Just as he was about to swish his tail, something flickered faintly in the dimness.

It was the glowing jellyfish.

It quietly rippled its see-through tentacles, slowly drifting toward Deng Xi and brushing against his cheek.

The glow never dimmed, blinking softly in the dark, lightless nest.

The clingy glowing jellyfish seemed to sense something and gently brushed its tendrils against Deng Xi’s tear-streaked face.

As if silently saying, Don’t be sad.

Remember to take me with you.

Deng Xi blinked and promised, "I will."

The glowing jellyfish wrapped itself around the little merfolk’s fingertips.

Deng Xi took one last look back before leaving the ocean depths alone, carrying only the glowing jellyfish and a small conch. The blue whale was still waiting for him above the abyss.

Deng Xi clambered onto the blue whale’s back. "Big whale, I had a treasure I loved very, very much. I brought him home and worked hard to mend all the cracks and wounds on him."

"But mean humans stole him while he was sick. I couldn’t find him alone."

Deng Xi thought,

What if he flew into the sky and fell somewhere I couldn’t see?

He had to go look.

"Will you come with me to find the treasure I accidentally lost?"

The blue whale rumbled in response, its call echoing through the waters.

Yes.

·

One thousand and eighty-two days.

Circling the entire planet would take nearly three years of swimming.

Deng Xi had lost count of how many times he had cleaned barnacles off the big whale’s body. Without Silver-Tailed around, he painstakingly scraped them away one by one with sharp shells. Now, the blue whale’s body was spotless.

Today, they stopped near a reef, returning to the waters where the abyss once lay.

The glowing jellyfish was kept in a small shell by Deng Xi. The blue whale swam fast, and the jellyfish’s delicate tendrils were fragile. The tiny jellyfish could vanish in the blink of an eye, so he had to be extra careful.

Normal jellyfish lived for 2 to 3 months, with some reaching up to two years. But the glowing jellyfish could live forever, reverting from maturity back to their larval polyp stage in an endless cycle.

Deng Xi was grateful he had found a glowing jellyfish that would never leave him.

They stayed in each patch of ocean for at least three to five days. Deng Xi would search every inch, and if he encountered dangerous creatures, the blue whale would protect him. The journey was risky but they made it through.

Until today, when he returned to where everything started.

Deng Xi didn’t hold much hope.

He dove into the water, patted the blue whale’s head, and stroked the small shell where the glowing jellyfish rested. "I’ll be back soon."

Deng Xi dove beneath the waves.

Even though chances were slim, and he knew Silver-Tailed couldn’t possibly be here,

Deng Xi still swam back to the nest in the abyss.

Seaweed had grown thicker. He parted the strands for a while before finding the entrance and slowly swimming inside.

With no creatures living there for so long, the once-clean nest was now covered in moss and filth. The bloodstains on the rose-colored shell had turned into a layer of dark stains.

The two shells lay wide open, just as Deng Xi had left them, untouched. Other than that, the nest remained empty.

Deng Xi drooped his head, defeated, and turned to swim back to the surface. In the distance, a dark speck appeared on the endless sea.

It was likely some large sea creature.

But Deng Xi gave his tail a powerful flick and swam toward the dark speck.

As the distance closed, the speck grew larger, its outline becoming clearer. Deng Xi’s eyes lit up, and he swam faster.

That was it!

The same dark hulk that had taken the mute boy!

Deng Xi dove underwater and swiftly swam toward it.

The dark hulk rested submerged at the seabed, where a massive net could be seen hung taut.

The same net that had trapped the mute boy.

If he was caught, could he be dragged up too? Maybe then he could see the mute boy.

He could use his song to charm those odd beings and rescue the mute boy.

Deng Xi knew time changed many things. The mute boy had been gone for so long—he might have been tortured by now...

Deng Xi didn’t dare think further.

But this slim chance was his only lead. He had to seize it with everything he had.

The blue-tailed merfolk darted straight into the net. Sensing struggling prey, the net instantly tightened, entangling his tail fin. Deng Xi reflexively struggled.

But the more he struggled, the tighter the net became, cutting into his tail. Deng Xi frowned, took a deep breath, and stopped resisting.

The next moment, the net trapping Deng Xi was yanked upward from the seabed. Just like Silver-Tailed before him, he was slowly dragged onto a ship.

With a thud, the blue-tailed merfolk was dumped onto the deck.

Dazed, Deng Xi raised his dazed head.

Before him loomed familiar dark shapes—creatures without tails, their bodies divided at the waist, entirely covered in odd coverings.

How strange.

But Deng Xi knew he was right.

These were the creatures who had taken Silver-Tailed.

Deng Xi stared at them warily, his eyes filled with resentment.

The creatures eyed him with equal caution, murmuring to each other in a strange language.

"Where's the tranquilizer?! Hurry, hurry!"

"What kind of alien is this? I thought the only ones with fish tails in the entire universe were from the Empire?"

Someone gulped, ravenously staring at the coiling tail sprawled on the deck. "Did we just catch a merman?"

"If that's really the case, we've struck gold."

The second known merman in the entire universe—right in their hands.

The men exchanged glances before slowly advancing toward the wary blue-tailed merman on the deck, their guns trained on Deng Xi.

Pinned helplessly on the deck, the blue-tailed merman felt the cold press of a thick, sharp needle against his skin. An icy fluid was forcibly injected into his body.

Pain.

Deng Xi flailed desperately, his tail flailing like a fish on a chopping board. The gleaming knife above reflected his useless thrashing.

It hurt.

The men hesitated, watching his violent convulsions, and stopped the injection due to his severe adverse reaction.

Three years ago, the vanished Imperial Marshal had suddenly reappeared at a trial, revealing his identity as a merman to the entire galaxy.

Since then, alongside humans and Insectoids, another race had emerged—aliens, humans exhibiting atavistic mutations with partial animalistic features.

After that sensational trial, humans began uncovering aliens who had long hidden among them, unnoticed. All aliens experienced periodic outbursts.

During these episodes, they lost rationality, becoming hostile to all life. Only tranquilizers could calm them.

To prevent a sudden atavistic outburst, Deng Xi was injected with a dose several times stronger than normal. But he was just an ordinary, delicate merman, weaker than even a regular human.

A normal dosage would induce sleep or relaxation.

An overdose could kill.

Had Deng Xi not been blessed with the hardy genes of a merman, he would have been a corpse.

Yet, the drug's side effects quickly took hold—nausea, vertigo, headaches... Soon, Deng Xi couldn't even feel pain anymore. He just felt crippling discomfort.

So much worse than the time Little Mute had stranded him on the rocks, his tail dehydrated and throbbing.

Nothing like his childish hopes. He didn’t even have the strength to sing.

His eyelids drooped as his slack form was hauled away and shoved into a large black tank. The lid sealed shut, plunging him into darkness.

In his daze, he felt as though he had returned to the ocean’s abyss, curled alone in a pitch-black cave, lying on cold, hard stone—no mother-of-pearl shells, no starlit silver tail.

Where are you, Little Mute?

When they took you, did you suffer like this too? Were your wounds this painful?

For a moment, Deng Xi was back to the time before he met Little Mute—utterly alone in the vast ocean, his calls forever unanswered, suffocating alone.

Suddenly, he missed him.

His agony magnified endlessly. He couldn’t fully black out, his mind diluted into chaos by the tranquilizer. Deng Xi let his consciousness sink into the dark abyss of his mind, cutting off all external awareness, drifting in emptiness.

The merman’s mental tendrils slowly expanded.

They emitted his subconscious call—over and over, despite never receiving a response.

So fragile, it could vanish with a breath. Yet it never ceased.

A bonded intelligent creature, like a blue whale, could hear a merman’s call and respond. Merfolk could also call out to those they had comforted.

But they were too far apart.

Deng Xi slipped under without ever hearing the reply he longed for.

He hoped the blue whale and jellyfish waiting for him wouldn’t mourn him.

·

The ship on the sea transformed into a skull-marked airship before soaring into the sky.

It docked with a massive starship waiting in space.

The skull symbolized the most notorious space pirate gang in the galaxy. Three years ago, they had traded in human trafficking—lacking firepower but unmatched in evasion, claiming nobody could find their true base.

After the aliens’ exposure, they shifted to auctioning them off, capitalizing on morbid curiosity.

These aliens, fearing contact with humans, often hid on uncharted planets, hoping to stay hidden.

The Skull pirates had ransacked endless fringe worlds. Now, as these pirates returned to headquarters—

In the starship’s bridge:

A beep sounded. A man in a tailored suit glanced at his communicator.

After a casual reply, he rolled his prosthetic eye that had rolled back, his synthesized voice mechanical: "Let’s see the goods. What’s got them buzzing?"

Confirmation snapped in his comm.

The control room’s screen switched to the hold’s camera feed. In the flickering light, the black tank was dragged from the airship. A dozen pirates aimed energy rifles as the outer casing melted away, revealing a transparent layer.

The "treasure" slowly came into view.

The bay fell deathly silent.

The man, idly toying with his prosthetic eye, stilled. His breath hitched before his mechanical voice laughed lowly. "Now this is a prize."

The second known merman variant in the galaxy—unseen since the Imperial Marshal—is now in his hands.

A surprise worth billions.

The mechanical voice rang out again, "I will personally host this auction."

The leading space pirate in the cargo hold pressed his earpiece and replied, "Understood. Should we start the auction preheating immediately?"

"Of course," the host smiled faintly.

Just by promoting the fact that this was the same species as the Marshal and announcing that this was the only other merman besides the Marshal, many would certainly be interested in participating in the auction.

The space pirates' auction was conducted via live broadcast. Behind the scenes, the host sent a reminder announcement on the public channel, releasing news of the new species up for auction the next day.

After a night of hype, the hype quickly grew.

Shortly before the broadcast began, many had already were waiting in the livestream.

From the time he was knocked out with drugs to being transported, the space pirates continuously injected Deng Xi with tranquilizers to prevent the alien from going into a frenzy. From yesterday until now, he had been in a hazy, semi-conscious state.

The space pirates timed it perfectly—as the tranquilizer's effects slowly wore off, the auction was about to begin.

Deng Xi blinked open his eyes groggily in the pitch-black darkness, his gills fluttering slowly as he absorbed the underwater air, the briny scent of seawater filling his nostrils.

With great effort, Deng Xi raised his hand to touch his empty, sunken stomach.

It must have been a long time—his stomach ached with hunger from prolonged starvation.

During this hazy, drugged state, the needle pricks had woken him countless times. He couldn’t remember how many times he had awoken in the dark, only to pass out again.

The excessive tranquilizers left him queasy despite his gnawing hunger. Deng Xi was too weak to even move, even lacking the strength to speak.

He no longer struggled as he had before, struggling to push himself up with his tail to explore the dark waters and figure out where he had been imprisoned this time.

Because soon, the humans would inject him with drugs again, and he would lose consciousness again.

Before Deng Xi’s eyes lay endless darkness.

He felt utterly exhausted,

and in too much pain.

This new world was too dark—Deng Xi could see no way out. He hadn't seen so much as a glimpse of the Little Mute.

He couldn’t find the silver-tailed one.

Nor could he save himself.

Mermaids were truly too weak.

Deng Xi closed his eyes, tears leaking from the corners due to the pain, silently dissolving into the water.

He didn’t know how long he had been in the dark when his eyes suddenly detected a faint light. Deng Xi opened his eyes, only to be blinded by the sudden light, tears welling up.

His surroundings were no longer dark.

Deng Xi seemed to see a shred of hope. He propped up his weak body, painfully fluttering his tail fin, swimming toward the surface at an excruciatingly slow pace.

The closer he got to the surface, the clearer the outside world became.

He seemed to be inside a large pool, specially filled with seawater. The exterior appeared funnel-shaped, with concentric rings of seats descending toward the central pool.

Harsh light poured from above.

Every seat was strangely empty. The vast space seemed to hold only Deng Xi in the pool.

The golden-haired, blue-tailed mermaid burst through the surface at the center of the pool.

This was the farthest Deng Xi could swim—his neck was bound by an electronic collar chained to the pool's edge with an iron chain.

After emerging, Deng Xi lifted his gaze upward. The air was filled with a swarm of hovering cameras, their dark lenses glowing red, all aimed at the seawater-filled pool.

Cameras. Spotlights.

The auction commenced—

In the virtual space, the venue was far from vacant.

Every seat was packed, each virtual avatar representing a real human behind the dark web.

Tens of thousands of people encircled the pool, their eyes alight with excitement, whooping and waving their arms in awe at the blue-tailed beauty emerging from the water.

His tail was a sky-blue, light at the top and deepening toward the tip, blending seamlessly with the dark blue seawater. The water rippled as his fan-shaped tail fin stirred unconsciously. His pale golden hair cascaded over his fair, slender back, floating gently with the waves.

His face, glistening with water droplets, was of a beauty beyond human imagination—his very existence was the very definition of grace and beauty.

His exquisitely perfect features carried an almost supernatural allure, making it impossible to look away. Yet his eyes were a very light blue, the color of the sky—clear and transparent, utterly devoid of vulgarity.

Awe-struck gasps rippled through the crowd.

The virtual world hummed with activity, but Deng Xi, still in the pool, clawed at the painfully tight collar around his neck, bewildered as he looked around the silent, empty space. What were those strange black devices? Why were they all circling him?

A cold, unyielding black restraint.

A fragile, breathtakingly beautiful yet unaware auction item.

The faceless humans in the seats rapidly typed comments: "Is this the most exquisite specimen ever auctioned?"

"My god, he’s absolutely stunning! His eyes are breathtaking!"

"Help, he’s adorable! If only aliens didn’t go into a frenzy—I’d love to take him home."

"Just name your price—I'll pay anything!"

Most were captivated by the auction item’s beauty.

Every time they glimpsed the merman’s impossibly beautiful face, they recalled past videos of aliens going into a frenzy—bloody, grotesque, nauseating.

The contrast was staggering.

A chorus of voices demanded the organizers to announce the starting bid.

The host, a man in a sharp suit, sat in the control room. Before him, blue screens displayed countless surveillance feeds, the largest showing the dark web’s live stream page. His fingers tapped, sending out an announcement.

The screen suddenly dimmed, the broadcast pausing as six words appeared in plain white font against black—One Billion Imperial Star Coins.

The font was formal and serious, but these six words might as well have been the most outrageous joke imaginable. Over ninety percent of today’s audience were just here for the spectacle. For them, this astronomical figure was nothing short of absurd.

The stream of messages dwindled instantly, the remaining ones expressing disbelief: "Is this a typo? One billion???"

"He’s stunning, but have you lost your minds?"

"A billion for just a face? Are you insane?"

"No words. I'm out."

At the very bottom of the live stream, a glaring "0" mocked the flood of sarcastic comments—the number of bidders participating in the auction.

Yet, the host remained unfazed and sent another announcement: "It has been confirmed that the merchandise shares the same ancestral lineage as him—an Eastern merman capable of defeating the Insectoid King with sheer physical prowess. Whether its strength justifies ten billion, you'll soon see."

This full-screen pinned announcement instantly sent the live stream's popularity soaring. Even though many had speculated, when the Skull Space Pirates officially confirmed that the auction item belonged to the same ruthlessly powerful merman race as the Imperial Marshal, the entire audience exploded with excitement.

That was the Imperial Marshal—the one who led the empire to become the strongest force in the cosmos, nearly undefeated in battle. This race could even single-handedly slaughter the Insectoid King without relying on any energy weapons!

Messages scrolled across the screen at breakneck speed, all demanding why the "warm-up event" hadn't started yet.

"Now I'm excited. Given his insane strength, ten billion is a steal!"

"But he looks so small. Does he really have the power to tear apart Insectoids?"

"If nothing else, lower the starting bid. I might just consider bidding."

"Just start already! If he really is a merman, the starting price is justified."

...

In the headset, a space pirate guarding the containment cage asked, "His condition doesn't look right. Should we still proceed with the pre-auction event?"

The host frowned slightly.

Before the auction began, he had specifically ordered the dosage of the tranquilizer to be halved to avoid impairing the merman's true fighting prowess.

Having studied footage of the Imperial Marshal slaying the Insectoid King, he had analyzed the merman's strength. This dosage shouldn't have left the auction item too weak to even lash its tail.

The host replied, "He might be faking. Proceed as planned."

The space pirate responded, "Got it."

The cage door opened. Unnoticed by Deng Xi, a section of the silver-white tank wall silently retracted, revealing a dark hole. Saltwater surged in from the other side of the pool.

A massive creature emerged from the abyss—a seven-meter-long great white shark, its maw gaping with jagged, razor-sharp teeth.

And it wasn’t alone.

Ten enormous great white sharks swam out from the pool's abyss, all advancing toward the unaware captive.

The feed captured every detail flawlessly.

---

Imperial Military Command

The adjutant frowned at the darknet live stream displayed on his console.

The Imperial Military had long planned to wipe out the Skull Space Pirates—those damned vermin.

As one of the three major space pirate factions, Skull specialized in slave trading. Compared to the other two militant groups, Skull was weak, even pathetically so.

They lacked advanced weaponry, high-tech warships, and often ran short on power crystals.

But they were experts at hiding—like an elusive, uncatchable cockroach.

Their outdated equipment and constant supply shortages stemmed from their constant evasion tactics, making it impossible to pin down their exact coordinates.

The empire spanned over a dozen star systems, vast and populous, making it Skull's primary hunting ground. Countless kidnapping reports were sent to the capital's military headquarters every year.

It took the military three years to map Skull's operations across multiple fronts and destroy many of their outposts—yet their headquarters remained undiscovered.

But the reconnaissance team maintained constant surveillance on Skull's darknet activities.

When Skull began their auction warm-up, using the Imperial Marshal's reputation for promotion, the data officer flagged the report. Given its connection to the marshal himself, the adjutant took over.

Quantum surveillance clearly captured the merman's blue tail, strikingly similar to the marshal's, and broadcasted it live.

The adjutant's face immediately darkened.

Glancing at his console as he walked, he took a deep breath and headed to report to the marshal.

The elevator shot straight up to the skyscraper's summit.

The adjutant, familiar with the route, arrived at the marshal's office floor and knocked.

The system had his access permissions. In theory, a simple gesture would grant him entry—but the adjutant stood obediently at the door, not daring to move.

He never wanted to relive the first time he accidentally walked in on the marshal during combat training—only to be struck so hard his bones fractured. He spent five days in an advanced med-pod, barely surviving. The memory still haunted him.

Five minutes later, he received the entry command.

Keeping his gaze forward, he stopped at the door of the treatment chamber.

The room was pitch-black.

Ever since the marshal's disappearance and return to the empire, his mental instability had worsened. Only within this specially magnetized chamber could his raging psyche gradually calm.

Every time the adjutant reported urgent matters here, he found the marshal sitting in darkness, silently fixated on a small ornament—a tiny blue-green seashell, its cracks clumsily glued back together.

It wasn’t pretty, given the many fractures.

The adjutant never understood its significance.

He knocked lightly and reported in a low voice, "Marshal, the Skull Space Pirates have just claimed to have captured a merman of your race."