The path from the city of Nova Yorka narrowed as it stretched outward, shrinking until it became little more than a scar carved between towering slabs of broken concrete.
Beyond the gap, the land opened into a fenced enclosure.
A rusted warning sign leaned crookedly against the chain-link fence.
『NO TRESPASSING —VIOLATORS WILL BE DEALT WITH BY THE HEROES』
The letters were faded but still threatening.
Around it, the ground was choked with trash.
Twisted metal frames.
Shattered panels.
Bent sheets of steel piled into rusted mounds.
The wind dragged dust across the ground in long pale ribbons.
The narrow passage finally gave way to open ground.
A wide clearing stretched between chalky rock walls and skeletal trees stripped bare by years of harsh wind. In the far distance, another city rose faintly against the horizon—its silhouette blurred by dust and heat.
The ground here was pale and dry.
Broken crates, crushed cans, and rusted scraps littered the dirt, half-buried under drifting layers of sand.
Near the edge of the clearing stood a low rundown gas station.
Its concrete walls were cracked.
Its flat roof sagged under years of neglect.
A bent roadside sign rattled weakly in the wind, pointing toward an unknown city. The letters had been worn down so badly they were almost unreadable.
BANG.
The building's heavy doors slammed open.
Three figures stepped out of the light and into the darkness inside.
One carried a bowl.
Another held a flamethrower slung casually over his shoulder.
The third gripped a bucket of water and a flashlight.
They moved through the building slowly, boots scraping across the floor as the beam of the flashlight cut through the dark.
Broken crates lay scattered everywhere.
Crushed cans rolled across the floor.
Rust-eaten metal shelves stood empty along the walls.
Clang!!
They reached a metal door.
The man with the bowl pushed it open.
I was forced down on my knees.
My wrists were wrenched behind me and locked inside cold restraints.
Chains ran from the cuffs up to anchor rings bolted into the floor and the ceiling, pulled so tight that even shifting my weight sent pain through my shoulders.
Grit dug into my skin.
The air smelled like rust, oil… and old rain.
My head hung forward.
I was still unconscious.
"Wake her up."
The man holding the bowl grinned lazily.
The one with the bucket stepped closer and dumped the water straight over my head.
Cold shock exploded through my body.
I gasped.
My head jerked up violently as water streamed down my face.
My breathing came fast and uneven.
One eye blinked repeatedly as water blurred my vision.
I looked around frantically.
Then my gaze locked onto the three men standing in front of me.
Confusion filled my face.
A blood-stained cloth had been shoved into my mouth.
"Much better," the man with the bowl said calmly.
Huh…?
Where am I…?
The last thing I remembered was losing control inside the containment wing…..?
Then the green smoke.
Then—
That guy….
"…?"
Why am I in chains?
And Who are these guys…?
The chains snapped tight as I thrashed.
"Guh—!"
Pain shot through my shoulders.
"Gah—!"
The restraints jerked me violently back to my knees.
Clang. Clunk.
The metal echoed through the room.
"She's acting pretty violent now," the man holding the bucket said, sounding bored.
"Now, now…"
The man with the bowl stepped forward.
He stopped directly in front of me.
His shoulders were square.
His posture calm.
The other two stood behind him like silent guards.
"Shall we begin…?"
He studied me for a moment.
"Hmm…"
"When was the last time I saw someone from the city of Nova Yorka?"
His voice echoed softly through the room.
I froze.
Just for a moment.
Listening.
Then my glare sharpened.
The man's mouth curled into a small smile.
"My name is Seller," he said calmly.
"I'm sure you're wondering how you got here."
His eyes gleamed.
"You're a girl from Nova Yorka."
"And that's exactly why the men in black suits sold you to us."
Sold…?
Someone sold me… to these bastards…?
Who…?!
Wait....
Was it that guy...?
The one I saw before I passed out in the containment wing…?!
Seller crouched down until he was eye level with me.
His smile thinned.
Greedy.
Excited.
Like a merchant examining rare merchandise.
His fingers laced together.
" A fresh… young body…" he said slowly, savoring every word.
"....can be sold for a very high price."
He chuckled softly.
"We actually scammed the guy who sold you to us just an hour ago."
The men behind him laughed under their breath.
Seller's voice grew warmer.
More eager.
"Not to mention your beautiful dark skin…"
"Your eyes… your arms… your legs…"
"Even your clothes."
"There are plenty of people who would pay good money to own someone who lived in Nova Yorka."
He leaned slightly closer.
"And I never thought I'd have the privilege of catching one alive."
"Especially a young girl."
He laughed.
Loud.
Satisfied.
"We've been extremely blessed by the gods."
Slowly—
I lifted my head.
My eyes burned through the dirt and sweat covering my face.
There was no pleading in them.
My jaw tightened.
A small sound slipped from my mouth.
"Tsk."
Seller paused.
"Huh?"
He tilted his head slightly.
"What's with that look?"
"Ah…"
"I'm sure you're wondering why we buy and sell people like you from Nova Yorka."
His grin widened.
Ugly.
Cold.
"because we want to see every single one of you suffer."
"Die."
"Be tortured."
"Be broken."
"We hate you...."
He stood up slowly and spread his hands wide.
Like a man presenting evidence in court.
"Do you even understand what your city has done to us?"
His voice grew louder.
heavy with old hatred.
"For generations, you people have been dumping your filthy trash into our cities."
"Threatening to destroy us."
"Refusing to share the Tesseract that the god's bestowed to us mortals..."
"Carelessly. Endlessly...."
"Watching us suffer for years while you enjoy your comfortable lives."
In my mind—
Images formed.
Heroes in pristine uniforms standing at the border.
Dumping truckloads of trash into the wasteland beyond Nova Yorka..
Is that why villains keep attacking the city…?
To get their hands on the Tesseract…?
Bound at the wrists and ankles, I hung low to the ground.
Forced to my knees by the chains pulled tight above me.
Seller leaned down close again.
"So when the buyer sees you…"
His breath brushed my ear.
"I wonder…"
"…what he'll decide to do with you."