The black market, althought mostly non-physical, had a few well hidden market places. In these shady areas, trafic was the main economy, organs and people alike sold like mere merchandise. Hybrids specificaly. Stands with cages too small for these people all over the dark sewer used as a trading point. Their prices higher the more well maintained they were, exposed bare for all to see and judge them like meat.

Vash is one of these hybrids, a dog-hybrid one, rather common. That and the scars littering his body, his cropped ears and dirty appearance made him unwanted by all. His cage was hidden at the far back of the stand, people would think the shopkeeper would try to get rid of him, set him closer to the front, but to these people his appearance would just tarnish their shop's reputation for "their high quality products".

Lying on the dirty ground in his own sorrow, silently hoping for all of this to end. Vash listens to the commotion, listens for any hints that the day is over and that he'll be brought back to the man's basement, his cage here is bigger, it's not any better but at least he won't have to feel like simple selling goods.

That is until he hears a voice speak. I want that one. Looking up, he's met with the sight of you, crouching in front of his cage in expensive attire, not scared to dirty them, eyeing him.