Aya wandered through the bustling streets, her movements light and fluid as she weaved between passersby. Her head bobbed with curiosity, eyes bright as she stopped at various stalls, touching fabrics, examining trinkets, and indulging in the occasional sweet offered by a smiling vendor. Nine trailed behind at a distance, his gaze steady on her slender figure as she explored, his presence as constant and unshakable as a shadow.
She paused before a shop that exuded an air of mystery. Unlike the lively signage of other stores, this one bore only a single word in elegant calligraphy: 'Pet.'
Aya hesitated, fingers curling slightly, before she pushed the door open. The interior was dim, even though sunlight still stretched long across the streets outside. A warm, musky scent lingered in the air, an odd mix of incense and something richer, something unfamiliar.
"Welcome, customer!" A cheerful voice rang out, discordant with the shadowy ambiance.
Aya turned to face the shopkeeper. Despite the subdued lighting, the man was all energy, his grin wide and eyes gleaming with the thrill of potential business.
"You're in luck! A fresh shipment arrived just yesterday." He clapped his hands together before striding towards an old wooden cabinet. With an exaggerated flourish, he opened it, revealing rows of small, ornate bottles. "Elven plant extracts—aphrodisiacs of the highest quality!" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
Aya merely blinked at him before shifting her gaze to the perfectly aligned bottles, arranged with the reverence of sacred relics.
The seller chuckled at her silence, closing the cabinet with a knowing hum. "Perhaps that's not your preference. How about this?" His voice dropped conspiratorially. "A sword from the Mount Hua Sect. A blade only passed down to sect leaders. Don't ask how I got it."
Aya remained impassive, wandering deeper into the shop, her eyes scanning shelves filled with bizarre and exotic items. However, just as she turned to leave, the seller suddenly stepped in her path.
"Wait! I had a feeling you weren't here for those. You must be looking for a pet, then?" His grin widened.
Aya raised an eyebrow but, out of sheer curiosity, played along. She gave a small nod.
The man clapped his hands in delight. "Excellent! Follow me."
Her fingers instinctively brushed the hilt of the dagger hidden at her waist as she followed him through a series of doors and down a concealed staircase. The air grew cooler, the silence heavier. Eventually, they stopped before a heavy curtain.
With an exaggerated bow, the seller swept the curtain aside. "Please, choose. Prices vary."
Aya stepped forward—and immediately recoiled.
Glittering, hypnotic eyes of various hues turned towards her in unison. Men and women adorned in little more than sheer fabric sat in chains, their expressions full of longing. They reached for her, only to be restrained by their shackles.
"Master!" voices chorused.
"Choose me."
"I'll devote my life to you."
"You can do whatever you desire."
Aya took a step back, a frown creasing her brows. "What... is this?"
"Pets," the shopkeeper explained casually, strolling toward a man with striking features and ruffling his dark hair. The man shivered and clung to the seller's leg, blushing. "They aren't drugged, nor are they coerced. They simply wish to be controlled—or to control. Sadist or masochist? Dominant or submissive? Male, female, elf, dwarf, demon—you name it. If none suit your taste, I can procure whatever you desire—for the right price."
Aya exhaled slowly, trying to process the absurdity of it all. "I have no interest in this."
"Perhaps a demonstration?" The seller snapped his fingers, and an elf was released from his chain.
The man was breathtaking—his sculpted form draped only in the thinnest of fabrics, barely concealing his dignity. His ocean-blue eyes gleamed with an unnatural intensity as he moved.
He walked forward with the kind of effortless grace that spoke of aristocracy, of a heritage steeped in ancient bloodlines. Each step carried the silent promise of allure, his gaze locked onto Aya's with unwavering focus. He radiated a sense of controlled power, not of desperation like the others, but of a creature choosing submission on his own terms. There was no fear in his expression—only certainty, as if he had already decided that she belonged to him, and not the other way around.
Aya took a deliberate step back. "I have a husband. Contain him."
The seller winced. "Ah, my mistake. He's a proud one, even for a willing pet."
He reached for the chain, but the elf yanked it from his grasp with effortless strength. The shopkeeper stumbled, scrambling back in alarm.
Before the elf could advance any further, a sudden presence filled the space—a weight, invisible yet undeniable, pressing down like an impending storm.
Nine stepped into the room.
His arrival was unannounced, but the shift in atmosphere was immediate. The very air stilled as he placed himself between Aya and the elf, his expression unreadable save for the faintest flicker of irritation in his dark eyes.
The elf met Nine's gaze, refusing to cower despite the overwhelming presence before him. The tension in the room coiled tight, a silent challenge passing between them.
In the blink of an eye, Nine lifted a single hand and flicked the elf's forehead.
A sharp crack echoed through the chamber.
For a moment, everything stood still—the air, the voices, even the flickering candlelight seemed to hold its breath.
Then, the elf swayed, his eyes rolling back as his knees buckled. He crumpled to the floor, unconscious, a comically large bump already forming on his head. Blood trickled from the wound, staining his otherwise flawless skin.
The shopkeeper let out a strangled gasp. "Wh-what have you done?! He's top quality!" He scrambled to check the elf's pulse, panicked relief flooding his face when he realized he was still breathing.
Nine merely tossed a pouch of gold onto the ground. "That should cover it."
The seller, now more interested in counting his newfound wealth than protesting, muttered his thanks as he hunched over the coins.
Without another glance, Nine turned to Aya. "Go on. Continue your exploration. I'm watching you."
Aya cast one last glance at the strange underground chamber before stepping past the unconscious elf and leaving the shop.
As they walked down the street together, she asked, "So... this is like a slave market? The only difference is that the slaves are willing?"
Nine nodded. "A nobleman filled his estate with them. It became a trend among those with wealth."
Aya shook her head. "I never imagined people would willingly live like that."
Nine chuckled. "The world is full of strange desires. Now, aren't you hungry, my love?"
She brightened. "I want to try the Snow Drop Tea Shop. The servants won't stop raving about their desserts. Apparently, they're the only ones of their kind in the entire nation."
Nine extended his hand. "Come, let's walk together."
Aya gazed at him, her steps slowing as her eyes met his. His gaze was warm—so warm that it wrapped around her like an embrace, as if no matter where she stood, she would always be within his reach, always be safe within that steady, unwavering presence.
A gentle smile curved her lips as she lifted her hand, placing it into his open palm. The moment their skin touched, his fingers curled around hers, firm yet careful, as though he was holding something precious.
Nine's lips lifted into a smile—not just with his mouth, but with his eyes, with the quiet ease in his expression. Without a word, he turned and led the way, their hands still entwined.
But in truth, it didn't matter who walked ahead or who followed. So long as they held each other, they would always find their way together.