The True Price of Latent Worth

While the war of invasion ravaged the world of Terramyr at the hands of the Demon King’s army, numerous young adventurers brimming with latent potential sought to profit from the chaos, eager to prove their worth and climb the ranks of power.

"I’ll become the greatest adventurer of all time and get filthy rich!"

Among those rising stars was a novice Wolf-kin adventurer—a young woman who aspired to rise through the ranks of the battlefield and show everyone what she was truly made of, relying solely on her innate potential and a modest savings of five hundred coins.

"Hey, where did that girl come from? Is she seriously trying to play adventurer in that outfit?"

Back then, she possessed a toned yet slender physique with D-cup breasts, short chestnut hair styled in a messy wolf cut, and a skimpy adventurer outfit that left very little to the imagination, deliberately prioritizing the natural agility and speed of her beastkin lineage when wielding a sword.

"Ha! An adventurer’s life isn’t that forgiving, girl."

However, despite her undeniable talent and natural combat prowess, young prodigies rarely accounted for the harsh realities hiding behind the curtain of war.

"Just wait until you’re drowning in dead-end debt."

In times of war, resource management is everything; without proper administration of supplies and finances, falling into poverty is inevitable.

"You talk too much, old men! That’s never going to happen to me!"

As a result, in the end, no matter how capable or formidable a person might be, surviving chaotic times without financial backing is impossible—a brutal lesson that ultimately left her hopelessly buried in debt.

"The second method... would be through the use of a pass... an exclusive privilege reserved for the market’s VIPs, such as the ruling witch herself."

Thus time passed, and in the present, within the underground market, the merchant carefully weighed every word upon sensing the latent danger emanating from the gaze hidden beneath the hooded figure’s cloak.

"Those chosen VIPs have a special magic formula engraved directly onto their bodies, granting them automatic authorization to exit..."

Catching the indifferent stare returned by those electric-blue eyes, the man felt as though he were staring straight down the bare edge of an unsheathed blade, watching his own death flash before his eyes.

"Thanks to the formula etched into their skin, authorized individuals can freely navigate the market without restrictions. The runes inscribed into the surrounding structures recognize the mark, preventing the defense systems from triggering. Because of this, anyone accompanying an important person—such as their bodyguards—can move through the facility unhindered, provided they remain within a short distance of the mark’s bearer."

Driven by pure survival instinct, the merchant submissively laid out every detail, completely abandoning any thought of exploiting his enigmatic customer.

"I see."

Only after hearing his explanation did "Silvia" subtly suppress her cold, suffocating aura, nodding in understanding as she appeared to regain her composure.

"Then... what is the final method?"

Hearing his customer's question, the man hesitated for a brief instant.

"What is wrong...?"

Having sensed the lethal danger emanating from the figure before him, the merchant hesitated in panic, fearing the worst.

"Hurry up and speak."

Only after weighing his words with extreme care—fully aware that his fate hung on what he said next—did he finally speak.

"The third method... involves expulsion. In the event that someone causes sufficient chaos in the market, the witches, or even the ruling witch herself, will personally intervene to eliminate or forcibly remove the source of the disturbance."

After uttering those words, the man swallowed hard, watching in tense silence as the hooded figure remained motionless, processing the information.

"..."

Alerted by her absolute silence and preparing for the worst, the merchant rapidly surveyed his surroundings, calculating the number of guards present at his show, the precise distance between them, and the financial loss versus profit regarding his merchandise in case violence erupted.

"I understand. Thank you for the information."

However, all of his internal preparation and resolve proved completely unnecessary when the hooded figure simply tossed him his payment and picked up her newly acquired "lantern."

"... Ah, of course... Thank you for your purcha—"

Right at that moment, as the merchant lowered his guard, letting out a faint sigh of relief and offering a practiced smile as he prepared to declare what a pleasure it had been doing business with her...

"... Punishment."

His words cut off instantly, frozen in his throat as the sickening sensation of a blade cleanly severing his head from his shoulders washed over him in the blink of an eye.

"!?!"

Panic seized his heart, but no scream escaped his lips. Inside his mind, the horrifying sensation repeated in endless, agonizing loops...

(W-What is happening?!)

His body was sliced, dismantled, and executed over and over again without pause.

(WHAT IS THIS... STOP... MAKE IT STOP... WHY IS NO ONE DOING ANYTHING?!)

Hundreds of gruesome deaths played out within the span of a single second, filling his mind with raw, suffocating dread while his physical body remained utterly paralyzed on the stage.

(SOMEONE, PLEASE, ANYONE STOP THIS!!)

To the surrounding crowd, nothing had happened at all.

"..."

The hooded figure hadn't moved an inch, yet the merchant stood frozen in place, eyes wide with unseeing horror, drenched in a cold, silent sweat as the phantom terror tore through his psyche.

"Was that enough?"

Only after that, taking her newly acquired "purchases"—the bound wise elf and the dim "lantern"—did "Silvia" turn her back on the paralyzed seller, stepping calmly away as the man slowly began to recover his breath, struggling to maintain a façade before the bustling audience.

"Aaaahhhhh... Aaaahh... Ughhhhh...!!"

Gasping for air in muffled chokes, the man dropped to his knees as he struggled to regain his composure, instantly realizing how his odd behavior was drawing the curious gazes of the surrounding crowd.

(Keep calm... As a merchant... This can't go on like this...!)

Biting his tongue to force back the lingering panic and regain a semblance of calm, the merchant forced out a strained, breathy laugh, assuring the onlookers that everything was fine as he wobbly stood up to present his next "item."

"Now... let us proceed to the next product! Come on out... introduce yourself!"

From the shadowy depths behind the stage, a female silhouette slowly emerged, her entire frame trembling with every hesitant step.

"!"

At that exact moment, "Silvia’s" footsteps came to a sudden halt.

"This one here... after years of compounding debt and terrible financial decisions, accumulated a grand total of -56,782 coins!"

What she felt in that moment was a sudden, intense surge of thrill that instantly ignited her curiosity and stirred a long-absent excitement within her chest.

"She has passed from master to master—demons, humans, you name it—only to be returned time and time again!"

The light revealed the full figure of the Wolf-kin woman, a far cry from the hopeful novice she had been in the past; her body had matured and visibly changed in every aspect.

"Due to her extensive use across multiple owners, despite her undeniable beauty, she has become somewhat damaged goods!"

Her chestnut hair, once short, had grown long, cascading down her back in unruly waves.

"Which is why today, we are offering her at a heavy discount, waiting for her next owner!"

Her breasts, once firm and D-cup, had expanded considerably into a heavy, drooping size, while her formerly athletic, toned physique had lost its sharp definition, gathering soft layers of fat that gave her a noticeably softer, slightly flabby appearance.

"Starting bid is fifty coins! We will begin the auction for this specimen at just fifty!"

Before the crowd, the Wolf-kin woman stood utterly exposed, wearing nothing more than thigh-high stockings and long arm gloves.

"She may be a bit crazy in the head, but she has undergone rigorous training and is exceptionally obedient; she is absolutely perfect for any kind of work!"

She maintained an arch-legged pose with her arms crossed behind her head, forcing a trained, submissive smile for the spectators.

"50 coins for this? With all those sexual tattoos and piercings. Who would even want her?"

A heavy chain of anal beads remained partially inserted, protruding visibly as she panted with her tongue out, displaying her body covered in countless indelible tattoos while the large, dark nipples of her heavy, drooping breasts were clamped and weighed down by circular metal piercings.

"Last chance! Thirty! Thirty coins! This is the lowest price you'll ever find!"

Seeing that no one was making a single bid, the merchant had no choice but to slash the price down to the absolute limit of profitability, desperate to rid himself of what had become a terrible investment.

"What kind of garbage is this?! Thirty coins? How many hands has this girl passed through? She's nothing more than an old, worn-out husk!"

However, the crowd's reaction was once again far from what he had hoped, filled with sneers and mockery.

"Thirty! Thirty coins! Don’t miss out on this incredible opportunity!"

Despite the merchant's knack for acquiring "exotic" items, he possessed a complete lack of salesmanship when it came to marketing and pitching them effectively.

"Five hundred thousand coins!"

Yet, amidst the dismissive crowd, there was one person who recognized the true, latent value residing within that battered body.

"I will take her for five hundred thousand coins!"

Ever since witnessing the Demon King's broadcast, this was the first time Silvia had perceived a raw, dormant potential worthy of her interest...

"Sold to the lady in the cloak!!"

Without a second thought or a moment of hesitation, Silvia invested every remaining coin in her possession to claim her prize.