It was the third day since he had been dragged to the slave market.

In that short time, he realized once again.

That this place, not the mine, was where a human being was most easily converted into a price.

Age, physique, appearance, utility, defects...

All of it was placed on the scales in an instant, and people scanned him as if they were choosing livestock.

It would be a lie to say those gazes weren't unpleasant.

But there was no reason to be angry now.

He had lived like someone's property for a long time.

First belonging to the mine.

Then to the mine owner.

And now, he would simply belong to someone whose name he didn't even know.

His body leaned forward as a hand pushed his back.

His knees shook for a moment, but he did not fall.

A cough welled up, but he forced himself to swallow it.

Showing weakness drops the price.

He hated being ridiculed, but he hated being sold for a pittance even more.

"He's twenty-eight."

"He's worked in the mines for over twenty years. He's still useful, and he keeps his mouth shut."

Norton chuckled inwardly at the remark about his mouth being shut.

No.

To be precise, he simply had no one to talk to.

There was no one in the mine to listen to him, and there was no one now either.

People called silence a virtue, but his silence was merely a habit born of resignation.