Under the Yarukiman Mangrove numbered “1” on Sabaody Archipelago, the massive Human Auction House was stirring to life as usual.
Over the past month or so, the terrifying legend of the “Black Cat Sheriff” had loomed like a dark cloud over the slave trade in the Lawless Zone.
But this landmark establishment—symbolizing the apex of the slave trade on Sabaody and throughout the world—continued undisturbed with its monthly major auction, as though the threat never existed.
It had neither been postponed nor canceled.
Quite the opposite, in fact.
The invitations they produced this time were exceptionally luxurious, and the wording more seductive than ever.
[“In appreciation of our distinguished guests’ long-standing support, and in celebration of this establishment’s anniversary, we are pleased to present new products and rare slaves far surpassing previous offerings.
Quantity and quality are the best in recent years.
Not to be missed!”]
After much hesitation, the wealthy and noble recipients of the invitations arrived one by one, their hearts a conflicted mix of unease, greed, and restrained anticipation.
When they saw the layers of private guards outside the auction house, and the noticeably increased, solemn-faced Marine patrols, many felt the weight in their hearts ease only slightly.
The tension in the air seemed somewhat diluted by this display of force.
Truly worthy of the Human Auction House.
Their ability to proceed with the auction as scheduled indeed had backing.
They hadn’t come in vain.
At the auction house entrance, the manager, Disco, wearing his signature sequined suit, greeted each arriving “distinguished guest” with a professional, warm smile, shaking hands and skillfully deploying his practiced manipulative spiel.
“Haha, Boss Hawk, long time no see!
Rest assured, tonight will definitely have surprises!”
“Madam Nidal, you look better and better!
You’ll love tonight’s finale!”
“Oh my, isn’t this Lord Holint?
Please, come in!”
But despite the pleasantries, the arriving guests still had lingering unease on their faces.
Seeing this, Disco puffed out his chest and spoke loudly, as if wanting everyone around to hear:
“Everyone!
Relax!
The person who could shut down our ‘Human Auction House’—not just on Sabaody, but in the entire Grand Line—hasn’t been born yet!”
He deliberately raised his voice, gesturing to the tight security and the large Marine contingent around them.
“That…
‘Black Cat Sheriff’?
He’s just a rat unworthy of ever stepping onto any stage!”
“Probably some poor wretch who lost someone and saved up a bit of skill to vent his private grudge!”
“The Marine officers have already set an inescapable net.
It’s only a matter of time before they catch him and crush him!”
He paused, leaned in slightly, lowered his voice yet still ensured those around could hear, striking just the right note of conspiratorial importance.
“Besides, everyone knows who stands behind this establishment.”
“The name of ‘JOKER’ is a gold-standard name in the underworld!
And—”
At this, he straightened up, his voice becoming booming again, carrying a pride that seemed to share in the glory.
“Tonight, we are even more fortunate to welcome several supreme distinguished guests!”
“Saint Rosward, as well as Saint Charlos and Princess Shalulia, will all be present in person to select their favorite ‘collectibles’!”
“With these noble lords here, what petty criminal would dare cause trouble?
Wouldn’t that be suicide?”
This speech acted as a powerful tranquilizer.
The name JOKER—Doflamingo—represented the power of the underworld.
And the personal presence of the Celestial Dragons erected what seemed like an imaginary sacred barrier of absolute authority in everyone’s minds.
In their understanding, even if that “Black Cat Sheriff” were completely insane, he would never dare lay a hand on the “descendants of gods”.
With Celestial Dragons on site, this was the “safest” place in the world.
Bar none.
Fear was quickly replaced by a twisted sense of security and pathological excitement directed toward the upcoming “items for sale.”
The bizarre collective sense of “security” in many hearts reached its peak.
The wealthy adjusted their attire, as if their earlier unease had never existed, chatting and laughing as Disco brazenly swaggered them toward the auction house entrance.
After a while, a commotion came from the end of the street.
Guards and crowds quickly parted.
Three figures wearing bubble helmets, each riding on different slaves, swaggered up to the auction house entrance, surrounded by black-suited bodyguards and Marine officers even more on edge than usual.
The father, Saint Rosward, wore sunglasses and had an arrogant look in his eyes.
The son, Saint Charlos, was fat and foolish-looking, even with a runny nose.
The daughter, Princess Shalulia, wore light brown sunglasses, her expression cold.
“Welcome!
A warm welcome!
Honored Saint Rosward!
Saint Charlos!
Princess Shalulia!”
Disco practically threw himself forward, greeting them in a posture of repeated groveling and bowing in a deeply submissive manner, his face smiling obsequiously to the extreme.
“Your presence simply graces this auction house with splendor!
Please rest assured, we have prepared the finest and rarest goods for you today.
Guaranteed satisfaction!”
Bowing repeatedly and groveling, he led the three Celestial Dragons inside, ushering them to VIP seats in the front row with the best views.
When the Celestial Dragons appeared inside the auction hall, the hall, which had still been murmuring moments before, instantly fell into absolute dead silence.
Every guest, no matter how tyrannical and arrogant they were outside, instinctively lowered their heads and averted their eyes, afraid to make any contact with the gaze behind the bubble helmets, terrified of being targeted and losing their lives in the next instant.
The air was thick with suffocating reverence and fear, but at the same time, the strange collective sense of “security” in many hearts reached its peak.
The Celestial Dragons had indeed come!
That meant there would definitely be no surprises today!
That “Black Cat Sheriff” definitely wouldn’t show up!
Disco was very satisfied with this effect.
He quickly walked to the auction stage, cleared his throat, and put back on his professional, infectious smile.
The spotlight hit him, drawing everyone’s attention.
“Ladies and gentlemen!
And most honored lords!” He spread his arms, his voice carrying throughout the hall via the microphone.
“Welcome to this month’s Human Auction!”
“I know, some little noises have disturbed your peace recently.
But please, look around you.
Look at the distinguished guests present tonight, who symbolize absolute power and order!”
He paused deliberately, letting the guests’ gazes again sweep respectfully toward the Celestial Dragons up front.
“So, forget those insignificant worries!
Tonight, there is only treasure!
Only passion and the moment when dreams come true!”
“Let us focus fully on the one-of-a-kind ‘artworks’ about to take the stage!”
“I promise, every single item tonight will make you feel your journey was well worth it!”
In just a few sentences, Disco skillfully turned the oppressive presence of the Celestial Dragons into a collective psychological reassurance mechanism that calmed the crowd and stimulated buying desire.
The atmosphere inside was once again stirred.
The tension was replaced by a distorted sense of security and pathological excitement toward the upcoming “items for sale.”