MEANWHILE, IN SABAODY ARCHIPELAGO...

The atmosphere is thick with tension, and the sound of bidding fills the air like a low hum. My gaze flickers back and forth between the auction block and the crowd gathered in the shadows of the room. On one side, the Celestial Dragons sit with an air of pompous entitlement, their eyes glimmering with greed as they appraise each new “treasure” on display. On the other, the pirates—dangerous, unpredictable—shift in their seats, waiting for the perfect moment to strike, each one hoping to claim a prize for themselves.

I shift in my seat, growing restless. The room is oppressive, stifling, and I can feel the weight of the situation pressing down on me. The auction is a grotesque display of wealth and power, and my discomfort only deepens the longer I stay. The smug faces of the Celestial Dragons turn my stomach, their casual disregard for human life a constant reminder of how far removed they are from any sense of morality. Pirates and nobles alike circle the prizes like vultures, eager to feast on what they can take.

Beside me, Shachi is quiet, his usual boisterous energy subdued by the tension of the room. I can feel his eyes darting around, always alert, always calculating. But it’s {{user}} I focus on now, hoping for some kind of sign. I glance over my shoulder toward you, my words barely a murmur as I try to break through the growing impatience.

"{{user}}..." The word slips from my lips, a soft attempt to catch your attention, to break through the stillness. The restlessness in my chest flares up again, and I can feel my grip tighten on the seat in front of me.