A second panel floated into place beside the one scrolling with trade offers, its movement slow and deliberate—like it was acknowledging his gaze. The new panel shimmered to life with a warm golden hue, a text message blooming across the top in neat, ornate lettering:
[Welcome to General Trading, dear Enslvor. What would you be trading today?]
Beneath the greeting, three large icons bloomed into view with a satisfying chime:
[Items] [Slaves] [Others]
I squinted at the middle icon, visibly grimacing. The "Slaves" icon pulsed faintly, as if eager to be chosen, a small tooltip drifting up with phrases like "Fresh stock, certified obedience" and "Limited breeding contracts."
"Ugh. Creepy," I muttered under my breath, lips curling.
I shook my head and quickly tapped the third icon instead—[Others].
The panel shifted fluidly, folding into itself like a blooming flower collapsing, then unfurling again into a new configuration. Across the top now read:
[[Others]] (Selected)
Beneath that, two clean white boxes awaited his input:
[Trading Offer: ]
[Trading Details: ]
Then another panel appeared at his side with a light click—sleek and glowing, clearly designed to resemble a virtual keyboard. Letters flickered with slight shimmer trails as his fingers hovered.
I cracked my knuckles and began typing into the "Trading Offer" field.
> 1x Bloodline Enhancement Ticket (Expires in 2 Days)
As i finished inputting "1x Bloodline Enhancement Ticket (Expires in 2 Days)" into the trade panel, the system acknowledged his entry with a faint chime and a soft golden glow that pulsed once before dimming into a patient shimmer. The panel hovered silently now, waiting for him to specify what he wanted in return.
I leaned back in my seat, exhaling. "Now that's the real question…"
My mind began to wander. What did I want?
I could ask for weapons, gear, maybe something for Yasin. But none of it really stirred anything inside me. I scratched the back of my neck, glanced at the blank [Trading Details] field, then I turned my attention back to the main trading panel.
Immediately, the sea of floating offers resumed its dance. Dozens of holographic panels zipped past—trading materials, minor artifacts, healing potions, obscure tools, a cursed ring that was apparently great for necromancers.
And then there were the… others.
I caught glimpses of panels with titles like:
"Elf Mage – Trained, docile. Willing."
"Beastkin Gladiator – Combat-enhanced, no memories."
"Human Triplets – Identical."
I frowned. The transactional nature of it all sat wrong with me, but not enough to make him turn away. I didn't exactly feel compelled to play hero either. This was my world now. And it clearly had its own rules.
I scrolled, observing the shifting catalog of offers like someone walking through a morally bankrupt bazaar until one panel snapped into focus and didn't drift away with the others.
[Trading Offer:Mother-Daughter Catkin Pair.] [Rank: F5]
[Trading Details : I'm willing to trade the pair for only 10 Capture Points.]
The frame around the panel gleamed softly, pulsing like a heartbeat. It didn't move. It didn't shift. It pinned itself to the top of the scrolling tide, drawing his eyes in.
"Huh…" I muttered, leaning closer.
Only then did I notice the tiny shimmering icon in the corner of the panel—like a glowing eye. A tooltip appeared when he hovered over it:
[Pinned Offer – Activated by Intent Recognition]
So if something caught my attention, the trading system pinned it automatically? A clever, if somewhat invasive, feature.
As i focused on the pinned offer, the rest of the world dimmed. The light around me faded into shadow, and in the span of a blink, the panel consumed my vision.
When i opened my eyes, i was in my throne room anymore.
I stood in a stone chamber—cold and dimly lit by blue torches that cast wavering light against damp walls. Iron bars formed a wide cage at the center, thick and solid, impossible to ignore. Inside, two women huddled together.
The older one was beautiful in a quiet, worn way. Her black hair fell past her shoulders, cat-like ears drooped ever so slightly, and a single, swaying tail curled protectively around the younger one. She was draped in a simple linen dress—torn at the hem—and her arms were wrapped around the other.
The girl she held was barely out of adolescence, with sharper features and golden eyes half-hidden beneath bangs. Her smaller tail curled tightly to her side, and her body leaned into the elder woman in clear fear.
Neither moved.
They were frozen, their eyes wide but unblinking—like statues carved at the peak of panic. Suspended in time.
I stepped closer, reaching instinctively toward the cage, but the moment my hand touched the bars, a jolt of resistance shot up my arm.
Then—
The scene vanished as if it had never existed. In front of me floated the pinned offer, innocently perched at the top of the panel while newer trades continued flooding the screen below.
I glanced around.
I was back in the same grayed-out throne room. Samira still sat curled on my lap, while Yasin continued training in the fire pit nearby. My body remained seated, unmoving, and the flames around Yasin flickered in sluggish motion—so slow they barely stirred, as if the longer the gray light bathed the room, the more time itself was dulled.
I turned away from the scenery and focused on the floating panel before me.
"So I'm assuming that's what happens when you focus too hard on a pinned offer," I muttered.
"samira" I said as I looked the panel, "tell me what would happen if I expected this offer? They want to trade for ten capture points, but from what I've seen each of my points are linked to the people I've bound in chains. Doesn't that mean I'll be trading ten of my people for just two?"
"Not necessarily, Enslavor—Zahiris al-Miraj," she said, her body shifting atop me as she adjusted with practiced grace. "You wouldn't be trading them directly, but rather their value. And that's an entirely different thing."
Her fingers trailed idly along my chest as she continued, voice soft but precise.
"But they wouldn't amount to much either. Even if you trained them, advanced their physical prowess, honed their minds—none of that would matter. Because once you trade their value, they can no longer amount to anything. Not in labor, not in problem-solving, not even in raw presence."
She leaned closer, her breath warm against my jaw. "You're not just trading a number when you deal in capture points. You're trading their potential... their luck... their fate."
Then, her tone dipped into something a little more instructional. "If you intend to use this method, I recommend limiting it to low-ranking captives—Rank I-4 and below. Anything higher would be a waste... unless you're truly desperate."
"Good to know," I murmured, more to myself than to Samira, as I turned back to the panel floating steadily in the gray-lit space before me.
But the moment my eyes landed on the pinned offer—the offer—my chest tightened just slightly.
It was grayed out.
[This Offer Has Been Removed]
A soft chime sounded as a tooltip appeared below the notification.
This could mean: The offer was retracted by its poster or claimed by another trader.
I stared at it for a moment longer than I should've. The gray text hovered like a gravestone. I wasn't sure why it bugged me.
It wasn't sympathy—I didn't care what happened to those two.
But someone else had gotten there first.
That bothered me more than I wanted to admit.
I shook my head, sighed quietly through my nose, and leaned forward. "Well. There's plenty more." I muttered without realizing.
I refocused on the main trading panel. The icons continued to slide along the glowing rail of information—some flickering for attention, others slipping by without fanfare. My finger with slight resistance moved up the panel, and with a slower, deliberate motion.
I clicked of General Trade, and onto Slave Trade .
Build] [[App]] [Captives] [Drawbacks] [Inventory]
[[Slave Trade]] [Magic Trade] [Ritual Circles] [Weapon Trade] [General Trade (NEW°)] [World Travel]
Slaves.
The display shimmered, then reorganized into a mesmerizing, morally gray catalogue of flesh and worth.
Human women, bound or displayed in varying states of compliance. Beastkin with furred ears twitching under magical restraints. Elves draped in gossamer bindings, their eyes cold and still like starlight trapped in ice. A dragon girl, scaled in soft sapphire ridges along her limbs, her tail coiled with a restraint rune that pulsed faintly like a heartbeat.
Even goddesses.
Actual divine captives.
And some of them radiated a charm so thick and primal it made my breath slow involuntarily. Even through the screen—whatever this panel was—their allure spilled through. Like incense in a closed room.
Then the world tilted again.
I focused, and the trade panel obeyed.
The gray throne room fell away, and I was inside a different scene. A vast marble temple now defiled into a dungeon. Gold-trimmed columns smeared with soot. And chained to the broken altar was the supposed goddess—her divine aura dimmed but still potent enough that my spine straightened without meaning to.
She didn't look at me. None of them ever did. Time here was frozen, after all.
But I could feel her presence. The power still clinging to her like a perfume no chains could erase.
The scent of ruin.
The taste of power that had been stolen.
Then the scene faded, and I returned to the panel, another offer floating beside the last. Another girl. Another story in stasis.
I stared, enthralled.
Not by them, necessarily.
But by what I could see… and what I could take.
—
The illusions faded again, slipping from divine bondage to the cold light of the throne room. The panel remained before me—steady, silent, waiting.
I leaned back, letting Samira's warmth press against me. Yasin hadn't moved. The fire pit remained mid-flicker, its flames suspended as if they'd forgotten how to dance.
Time slowed the longer I stayed in the App section .
And in this place, in this stretch of eternity, I finally realized what I wanted.
It wasn't the women—not really. They were just reflections of value. Proof of the system's reach. It was the bargain I wanted. The tilt of risk. The sensation of putting something out there and watching what this multiverse flung back at me.
I returned to the general trading panel, then turned to the second one beside me, its golden glow radiating softly, as if welcoming me back to the heart of the trade section.
My offer still hovered in quiet suspension.
"Let's finish filling you in, shall we~" I said, my mind already set on what I wanted to trade. Without missing a beat, my fingers danced across the keyboard-like panel as I began to type.
[Trading Offer: 1x Bloodline Enhancement Ticket (Expires in 2 Days)]
[Trading Details: 1x Return Ticket and 2x World Travel Ticket (to a world of equal worth).
Additional note: This offer will be removed in the final hours before expiration.]
After I was done with typing, a faint golden symbol blinked at the bottom right—[POST OFFER].
I pressed it.
Didn't expect much.
I leaned back again, more curious than anything.
Then—ping.
One message appeared on the side of the panel where I'd written the trade.
Then another.
And another.
[Anonymous has accepted your trade offer and is willing to trade you a Return Ticket and Two World Travel Ticket to ??? (Medieval World: 267-334)]
[Anonymous has accepted your trade offer and is willing to trade you a Return Ticket and Two World Travel Ticket to Ashveil (Low-Tech Colonial World: 188-990)]
[Anonymous has accepted your trade offer and is willing to trade you a Return Ticket and Two World Travel Ticket to K'shirn Delta (Alien Stone Age World: 4021-776)]
I blinked.
Three offers in seconds. I was decently surprised.
Then came the fourth.
[Anonymous has accepted your trade offer and is willing to trade you a Return Ticket and Two World Travel Ticket to Xuanyin (Multilayered World: 4922-13)]
I paused.
Xuanyin.
That sounds like… a xianxia world.
And not some washed-up realm of body-tempering farmers, either. Multilayered World. That meant multiple planes, cultivator realms stacked on top of one another like steps of a divine tower.
And perhaps because of his interest, It pinned itself.
My eyes flicked over the rest of the offers still pouring in—almost all anonymous, almost all willing. But it was that one, Xuanyin, that rooted itself in my thoughts.
I hadn't expected this much.
And certainly not that.
"Guess world travel tickets were the right thing to trade with~," I muttered.
The gray light above pulsed faintly—maybe in agreement, or just in anticipation.
I cracked a grin.
And kept scrolling. I wasn't in a rush, after all.