The slave auction resumed on its second night, shifting its focus to the sale of combat slaves. Unlike the previous evening, this round attracted a different crowd, more nobles and affluent commoners filled the seats, drawn by the promise of stronger and potentially more valuable acquisitions.

  In contrast, many of the poorer commoners who had attended the first night stayed away. A few showed up merely to spectate, knowing full well that their place in the proceedings had ended with the previous day. The auctions on the second and third days were not meant for them; these were stages reserved for those with coin to spend and power to wield.

  Cryssa returned to the auction hall alone once more, if Ayla’s quiet presence didn’t count.

  Glacia, meanwhile, had been left at home, tasked with learning the proper etiquette expected of a maid in service to a Stelluna. Neither Cryssa nor Ayla were concerned about her adjustment. After all, Glacia had served noble masters in the past.

  As the auction progressed, the offerings lived up to their billing. Most of the combat slaves on display were men, tall, hardened, and clearly bred or trained for battle. Some of them Ayla even recognized from the game. Yet despite their familiarity, Cryssa refrained from bidding. She had made a promise to Lyra: no male slaves.

  So she waited, hoping the female combatants would prove more compelling. But even as the auctioneers paraded them onto the stage, some exuding strength, others presenting rare and valuable magical abilities, none caught her attention. None of them were wanderers. None were familiar.

  Perhaps, Cryssa thought, they had simply lacked the luck to survive the cataclysm in the game’s timeline. And for Cryssa and Ayla, even "luck" was a stat that mattered. It wasn’t just about strength or skill. Survival itself was a measure of worth.

  They refused to gamble on unknowns, not with what was coming. Until they saw these slaves endure the catastrophe for themselves, they wouldn't risk it.

  The future of Selini and Stellar was uncertain, haunted by the disaster that had once unfolded just before the game’s official launch. No one knew the scale of the calamity this time. Until they did, Cryssa preferred to place her faith in those she could trust, even if that meant investing in someone as fragile as Glacia. She might be weak now, but she had proven experience and, more importantly, potential.

  Lyra had agreed with that reasoning.

  And so, the second night of the auction ended with Cryssa making no purchases.

  However…

  The third night of the auction concluded with an outcome no one had expected.

  “So…”

  Lyra began, her voice calm but laced with a chilling undertone.

  “Would you care to explain what exactly happened, Cryssa?”

  It was the day after the auction, and they were alone in the lord’s office. Lyra sat behind her desk, arms crossed, wearing a smile that was far more terrifying than any boss monster in the game.

  Cryssa mumbled, avoiding Lyra’s eyes as she slumped in her chair.

  “Ugh… I’m sorry.”

  Her face was pale with exhaustion, her eyelids drooping.

  Lyra’s stare remained fixed and sharp.

  “I was gone from Selini for a single day. A day. And when I returned this morning, the town was buzzing with rumors. Some nobles even approached me directly, demanding to know what happened to you.”

  Cryssa winced.

  “...Sorry.”

  Without another word, Lyra stepped away from the desk and approached the large window. She drew the curtains back, revealing the courtyard below.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  Outside, new faces of seventy-four women stood in neat lines, dressed in maid and butler uniforms. Most wore proper maid attire, but a few had been forced to settle for whatever was available as the Stelluna household simply didn’t have enough uniforms for them all.

  It had all happened the night before, during the third and final day of the auction.

  Unlike the previous sessions, not a single male slave had been put up for sale. Instead, the stage had been overtaken by beauty.

  The purpose was obvious. Every slave presented that night was intended for pleasure.

  They were sex slaves.

  Cryssa had been the only woman in a sea of leering men.

  And then, things had spiraled out of control.

  A wave of slave merchants had arrived at the last minute, each eager to register their most attractive “products.” What was supposed to be an auction of one hundred slaves swelled to over three hundred. The auction dragged on through the night, finally concluding as the first light of dawn crept over the horizon. Cryssa hadn’t slept since.

  Among the chaos and spectacle, Cryssa and Ayla had kept their promise to themselves, they wouldn't buy just anyone. They had spent the night carefully observing each slave, cross-referencing them with their knowledge of Dream Land Online.

  In the end, they had selected seventy-four.

  All of them had been wanderers in the game, NPCs they recognized.

  Thankfully, Cryssa had ignored any who had only been ranked as Common. Had she not been discerning, she might have walked away with over two hundred slaves. Instead, her haul consisted of those worth investing in.

  In Dream Land Online, almost everything, items, weapons, elixirs, quests, even NPCs, was classified by a ranking system: Common, Rare, Epic, Legendary, and the elusive Mythical. Mythical-rank had only ever appeared once in the game, in the form of The Essence of Dream Land, discovered by Ayla just before her death in her previous life.

  Of the seventy-four slaves Cryssa had purchased, or seventy-five if Glacia was included, sixty were ranked Rare, ten were Epic, and five were Legendary.

  It was an unparalleled collection of potential allies.

  At least, that’s how Cryssa and Ayla saw it.

  The rest of the world, however, saw something very different.

  To them, Cryssa Stelluna, a young noblewoman once praised for her kindness and warmth, had suddenly returned from an auction with seventy-five weak, female sex slaves.

  And not just any slaves.

  Every single one she bought had been highly sought after, as their beauties were undeniable. Bidding wars had broken out for nearly every girl, driving prices far above their starting points. Some were sold at ten times their initial bid, others at twenty, and a few even skyrocketed to fifty times the original price.

  And yet, through every round, Cryssa never backed down.

  She outbid noblemen with swollen purses and commoners who had pooled fortunes just for a chance at one of those slaves. She met every raised paddle with a higher bid of her own, face unreadable, eyes sharp, until the auctioneer called her tag number again and again.

  By the end of the night, the auctioneer had called her number so many times his voice had begun to crack.

  To the onlookers, it was madness.

  Who in their right mind would spend such an obscene amount, over ten thousand gold coins, on weak women meant for pleasure, only to haul them all back under the Stelluna banner, a noble house that had barely begun recovering from civil unrest?

  And not just any house.

  The entire Stelluna family currently consisted of just three people, and all of them were female.

  So naturally, the townsfolk asked the obvious question:

  “Why would a household of three women need seventy-five female sex slaves?”

  The rumors spread like wildfire. The theories grew wilder by the hour. Many townsfolk whispered that Cryssa had lost her mind. A few dared to joke that she was building her own personal lovers. One particularly bold tavern-goer suggested Stelluna was preparing to open the most exclusive brothel in the region. Even the more loyal citizens of Stelluna, began to murmur concerns about her mental state.

  From the outside looking in, it wasn’t just excessive, but it was scandalous.

  Standing at the window, Lyra let out a long, weary sigh. The silence hung heavy in the room, as if the air itself was waiting for what she would say next.

  She stared down at the sea of unfamiliar faces in Stelluna’s courtyard, seventy-five beautiful girls in maid and butler uniforms, each one a weak and utterly useless addition who now technically worked for her family.

  Then, under her breath, she muttered with the calm despair of someone trying very hard not to scream.

  “…I really hope that disaster actually comes.”

  Because if it didn’t…

  If the world remained quiet, safe, and unshaken…

  Then she would be left alone to deal with this mess.

  And honestly, she wasn’t sure she could survive that.

  As it turned out, Lyra got her wish.

  Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately…

  The disaster did come.

  At the end of the month.

  Right before Dream Land Online went live.