Vampire Cultivation System in a Hidden World of Monsters

I looked down at the girl on auction. She had a green undercut hairdo. She was wearing a green bikini and green sneakers. She looked uncomfortable, scared, confused, and alone. She had mechanical cyberpunk arms.

They looked like flesh, but if you noticed the seams, you could tell where the flesh ended and the mechanical parts began. She also looked angry and stubborn as hell, but she was clearly in over her head.

<Main Objective: Give Mira a great last day before she dies>

"This is our only slave on auction for today. Her name is Mira. We don't have a last name listed. You could give her your last name if you so desire. Or not. I don't care," he said.

The auctioneer had a curled light brown mustache, spectacles, and a tall tan hat. He was a little pudgy around the midsection but he did a pretty good job of hiding that behind the podium.

"One thousand dollars, do I hear one thousand dollars? One thousand dollars! Do I hear two thousand dollars? Two thousand dollars! Do I hear five thousand dollars? Five thousand dollars! Do I hear ten thousand dollars?" The auctioneer said.

'System. Can I convert my gold giblets into whatever currency they use here?'

[Yes. You may convert your money into whatever currency is used in this game world. You can not do that in real life, but in the game that is easily facilitated]

I put my number up.

"Ten thousand dollars! Do I hear twenty thousand dollars?" The auctioneer said. It kept going like that for a while. I waited for it to slow down before putting my number up again.

"Two hundred thousand dollars! Do I hear five hundred thousand dollars? Going once. Going twice," he said.

I raised my number.

"Five hundred thousand dollars! Do I hear one million dollars? One million dollars!" He said.

Some asshole in another booth was trying to swoop in and steal my girl. This was my girl. I was going to take her out on the town and show her a good time before she fucking died, and this asshole was trying to take that away from her? Take that away from us?

No way, no how. I was going to win this auction if it took every last cent I owned. Fuck that guy. I put my number up for two million dollars. I know it was early and I still had a lot of money, but it was going to get bad if this guy kept going like this.

I could end up losing 100 million or more on this auction. Which I can afford to lose, but only so many times. Someone knocked on my booth door. What the fuck? Who was knocking in the middle of a fucking auction?

I raised my number to keep the auction going, and then got up to see who it was. I opened the door and someone who was very obviously a butler bowed and addressed me.

"Good, sir. My master very much wants to win this auction. He would be willing to offer you twenty million dollars to back down. And a knife to the throat if you don't," he was very courteous the entire time he said this.

"Don't bother. My life literally depends on winning this auction," I said. "Tell your master that." I closed the door on the butler and jumped back into view of the auctioneer and raised my number. I almost lost the auction just then.

It kept going for a while, but I eventually won on fifty million dollars. What a chunk of change to spend on a human life. This was so fucked up. I couldn't complain though since I won, and at less than I originally expected to win on.

"Thank you ladies and gentlemen. The auction item will be delivered to the buyer and then we will continue the proceedings," the auctioneer bowed and walked away from the podium behind the curtains.

I waited, and after a few minutes, there was a knock on the door. I went to the door and opened it. Outside was the girl from the auction and a man dressed in a black suit with tinted sunglasses and an earpiece. He handed me a set of keys and a remote with a single button on it.

"These are the keys to her restraints and the remote for the ankle taser. Enjoy your purchase," he handed me the title of ownership and some papers. "I'm also an actuary, so I can verify and officialize your ownership. If you'll just sign here, here, here, here, and here, oh and also here, I can relinquish her into your custody."

I signed the papers in and title of ownership in every place he mentioned and handed back the papers. After he read through the papers and looked over the title to make sure I signed it, he handed me the title of ownership, pushed the girl into the booth, and closed the door.

I turned around and threw the keys and remote on the ground. I put the title of ownership in my jacket pocket and sat back down in one of the comfy chairs in the booth.

"What are you doing?" She said.

"I'm sitting. What does it look like I'm doing?" I said, not turning my head. I had no intention of treating her like a slave, but I also had no intention of encouraging disrespect by showing weakness.

I was who I was. She could just as easily make assumptions about me and my morality for my position as I could make assumptions about hers for her position.

She walked up behind my chair and stood over me trembling in her bikini and sneakers. She must have been very cold for how little clothes she had on, but I knew that wasn't why she was trembling.

"The keys and remote are on the ground over there. You really don't have to put yourself through a murder attempt to escape," I said.

"You don't know me! You don't know what I've been through!" She said, crying and yelling at the back of my head.

"You're right. I don't. Why don't you tell me?" I said. "If you tell me what the problem is, maybe I can help you fix it."

"Why would you do that for me?" She said. I heard her wipe away her tears, and sniffle.

"Because I am not a slave owner, and I don't want you to feel like a slave," I said.

"But I am a slave," she said.

"I know. I'm saying I don't want you to feel like one. Why don't you just let me treat you like a normal person who is in no way obligated to keep me company? You could sit down here next to me, and I could order some drinks and food for the booth. How does that sound?" I said, as calmly as I could. I could feel her tension and anxiety even though I couldn't see her.

"I would say it sounds like you're lying, but it really doesn't sound like you are," she said. "Are you expecting me to give you a hand job while we eat and drink or something? What's the angle here?"

"I won't say there is no angle, because there always is an angle. You know that well enough. You don't need me to tell you that. But it is an unexpected angle. An angle you're not used to," I said.

"What's that?" She said, still standing behind me, shivering. This time out of being cold, rather than being scared.

"The angle is I want to make someone who has had a rough life, enjoy their life for once. Before they die. That would make me feel like I did a good thing, and I love doing good things," I said. "Does that make sense to you?"

"I mean, I like doing good things too, so that makes some sense, but I never thought someone like you would feel the same way," she said. Read latest chapters at empire

"Someone like me?" I said. "What do you mean?" Something was off about what she was saying. I couldn't get a handle on what it was, but something wasn't right.

"A rich person. A muckity muck. A big shot. A head honcho. You know, a person who wipes their ass with hundred dollar bills," she said.

"Is that how you really see me? You don't see my player ID?" I said, confused. It was possible she was playing dumb for the sake of maintaining player immersion, but it felt deeper than that.

"Player ID? What are you talking about?" She said.

"Oh shit," I said. I rubbed my face with my hands. She didn't know she was in a game world. She didn't know she was an NPC. Why did Lara know and this girl didn't? "This is real life for you, isn't it?"

"Yeah. Of course it is. It isn't for you?" She said.