I PICKED UP A CHILD IN A DUMPSTER

"Bidding?"

A short pause.

"Yeah. I do not know what that is."

The words left Si Hon quietly, almost under his breath— but somehow, it still felt like they reached further than they should have.

Because the announcer laughed.

Not loud. Not exaggerated. Just a small, amused sound as her head tilted slightly, eyes flicking toward him again like she’d been waiting for that exact reaction.

"Well," she said, tapping the mic lightly with one finger, voice slipping back into that bright, playful tone, "I guess we should explain it, right? We do have some new prisoners here..."

Her gaze lingered on Si Hon for half a second longer than necessary.

Then she turned away like it meant nothing.

"Wouldn’t want anyone feeling lost."

A few chuckles echoed from above, faint but clear enough to hear. The crowd was listening closely now.

Watching.

Waiting.

The announcer took a slow step forward, heels clicking lightly against the pillar stone as she spread one hand out toward the arena around them.

"Bidding," she continued, voice carrying easily across the entire space, "is exactly what it sounds like."

She lifted her other hand, pointing upward.

Above them.

Where the noise had been coming from.

"Everything above this arena— the ones watching, the ones cheering?" she said, smile stretching just slightly. "They’re not just spectators."

A small pause.

"They can buy too!"

The word settled heavier than the rest.

"They watch how you move. How you think. How you survive," she went on, pacing slowly now, like she was explaining something simple. "They pick favorites. They choose who they like... and then they place bids."

The crowd above responded instantly— louder now, more alive, like they enjoyed being acknowledged.

Si Hon’s eyes lifted slightly, just enough to glance upward.

Toward the Rabbit, bunny announcer.

"They can bid on anyone," the announcer continued, almost casually. "Strong ones. Smart ones. Interesting ones. Even the ones who struggle the most."

Her smile sharpened.

"Sometimes those are the most fun."

A few people around Si Hon stiffened.

Some looked up.

Others didn’t.

"And if you survive," she added, tone softening just a little— not kinder, just... smoother, "there’s a chance your highest bidder gets to claim you."

That word.

Claim.

"You leave this place," she said, almost lightly, like she was offering a reward. "You get taken out of the arena... and go with them."

A small pause.

Then—

"As their property."

That landed.

No echo. No exaggeration.

Just... clear.

Real.

The noise above didn’t stop.

If anything, it got louder.

Excited.

Si Hon didn’t react immediately.

His gaze stayed upward for a second longer, then slowly lowered again, his expression not changing much— calm on the surface, unreadable as always.

But his eyes shifted slightly.

Just a little.

"So," he muttered under his breath, more to himself than anyone else, "I guess, someone would own me now."

Then, quieter—

"We’re being picked."

The announcer clapped her hands once, cheerful again like nothing heavy had just been said.

"Exactly!"

Her voice bounced back, full of energy.

"So try your best, alright?" she added with a bright smile, eyes sweeping across all of them. "Be entertaining. Be useful. Be worth it."

She leaned forward just slightly, voice dipping at the very end—

"Because nobody likes something they can’t order or anything."

...

...

...

The bidding started not long after that.

At first, it felt fast— names being called, lights dropping one by one onto different people, voices from the crowd above crashing down in waves as numbers climbed higher and higher. But the longer it went on, the more it stretched. What seemed quick at the beginning slowly dragged, each turn taking longer than the last as the crowd argued, raised prices, fought over people like it was nothing more than a game to them.

Si Hon didn’t move much during it.

He just stood there with his arms crossed, watching. Not reacting much, not commenting— just observing how it worked, how people were chosen, how some were fought over while others barely got a glance. Somewhere along the way, the noise stopped feeling surprising. It just... settled into the background.

Then—

"Now, to this guy!"

The announcer’s voice rang out again, bright and sharp as ever.

The space around Si Hon dimmed instantly, shadows pulling inward as a focused light dropped straight onto him, isolating him from everything else. It wasn’t harsh, but it was enough to make every eye turn his way.

Si Hon didn’t flinch.

He stayed where he was, arms still crossed, posture relaxed like nothing about this situation bothered him.

Around him, the whispers started.

"The pink leader, right? The one who got lucky?"

"He looks decent... someone might pick him at least."

"That guy... he gave me this book earlier. I mean, I’m thankful, but... tch I hate him..." a familiar voice was heard.

The voices layered over each other, low but constant, circling him without ever fully reaching him. Suha, Han, Seong— everyone close to him had their attention locked in, waiting, watching, like something was supposed to happen.

So he waited too.

Seconds passed.

Then more.

Minutes.

The light stayed.

The silence stretched.

And from above—

Nothing.

No numbers.

No voices calling out.

No bids.

Si Hon’s eyes lifted slightly, just enough to glance upward once.

Then—

Just like that—

The light vanished.

The shadows pulled back, the fake sun above returning as if nothing had happened at all.

"Hehe... seems like no one bid on this guy!" The announcer’s voice came down again, cheerful— too cheerful.

Si Hon’s brow twitched slightly. "Why does she sound excited?" he muttered under his breath.

Before he could think more about it, he felt a light tug at his shirt.

He glanced down.

Suha and Han.

"Don’t worry, dad," Han said quickly, trying to sound steady even if there was still tension in his voice. "They just don’t know how useful you are. And... bidding is just bidding, so don’t get sad."

Suha nodded beside him, looking up with that same innocent confidence, like she fully believed that.

Si Hon stared at them for a second.

Then sighed.

"Yeah, yeah," he said, lifting a hand and patting both their heads lightly, the motion casual, almost automatic.

But his thoughts didn’t match that tone.

(You two got nine hundred thousand.)

A pause.

(How....)

***

(Earlier—)