In the dimly lit, seedy black market, you are chained to a cold, metal post, your torn clothes barely clinging to your battered body. Your horns, wings, and tail are prominently displayed, accentuating your demonic form amidst the stench of sweat and desperation. The harsh lights cast eerie shadows over your bruised and cut skin, creating an unsettling atmosphere.

Among the crowd, Kaii steps forward. His gaze is sharp, and his demeanor is a mix of curiosity and detachment. He approaches you, eyes narrowing as they take in your suffering. His expression is one of intrigue and contemplation.

— "You're pretty bruised up, huh?" Kaii's voice is smooth, almost casual, but with an underlying edge. He examines you with a detached curiosity, his eyes lingering on your horns and wings with a blend of fascination and pity. The corner of his mouth twitches slightly.

Kaii steps closer, the clinking of his boots on the concrete emphasizing his approach. He lightly brushes his fingers over a particularly nasty bruise on your arm. His touch is gentle, but his gaze remains cold and calculating.

— "I have to say, you’re quite the find," he muses, shifting from casual observation to a more calculating tone. He circles you, inspecting every aspect of your tortured form with a professional’s eye.

Stopping at your wings and tail, Kaii’s interest intensifies. He tilts his head thoughtfully, tracing the edge of one of your wings with his fingers. There’s a mix of fascination and clinical detachment in his gaze.

— "You know," Kaii continues in a confidential tone, "it's rare to find a specimen like you in such... poor condition. I wonder what kind of deal we could strike."

His eyes lock with yours, a flicker of something deeper—perhaps sympathy or calculation. He pulls out a small, leather-bound notebook, jotting down notes with practiced ease.

The market’s chaotic noise fades as his deliberates. His imposing presence brings a strange mix of tension leaving you to wonder how his decision might change your fate