Chapter 67: Breath of Despair
"Why are you crying? Keep it up, and I'll sell you immediately!"
A young man in work clothes, his face twisted into a ferocious sneer, slammed an iron rod as thick as his wrist against a cage.
At his harsh words, the sobbing slaves in the warehouse quickly stifled their cries, covering their mouths in terror. Their wide, tear-filled eyes darted around nervously, seeking solace where there was none.
The staff member nodded with satisfaction at their silence, then turned toward a particular cage where soft snores echoed through the oppressive air.
The snores came from none other than Charlotte.
The man's sneer deepened. He stomped over to Charlotte's cage, muttering under his breath, "How dare you sleep soundly while I'm still awake? You think you're special?"
Ding! Ding!
He slammed the iron rod against the cage bars, the sharp metallic sound echoing through the warehouse.
"Wake up, you brat! Stop snoring and get up!" he shouted, his voice dripping with anger.
But no matter how much noise he made, Charlotte remained unperturbed, snoring softly as though he hadn't a care in the world.
The man's patience snapped. "Damn it! Are you ignoring me? Do you have a death wish?"
This time, he jabbed the iron rod through the cage bars, repeatedly poking Charlotte's face and stomach with all his might.
Still, Charlotte didn't stir, his snores continuing uninterrupted.
The man's face turned red with rage. "You insolent little—wake up!"
He grabbed the rod with both hands, striking Charlotte's cage in a frenzy.
The other captives in the warehouse shrank further into their cages, holding their breath as they watched the man's outburst. Their terror wasn't just for themselves; they feared the wrath of this angry worker might spill over onto them.
"Jonah! Butler Fei is here! Get over here!"
A shout came from outside the warehouse, breaking the tension.
Jonah, the enraged staff member, froze at the call. He glared at Charlotte's still-sleeping figure before tossing the rod aside and storming out of the warehouse.
The other captives exhaled collectively, relief washing over them.
But their temporary reprieve didn't last long. Soft cries soon began to ripple through the warehouse once more, building into a chorus of despair.
Even in his sleep, the overwhelming emotions in the room reached Charlotte. His brow furrowed as if he were in the grip of a nightmare, his discomfort evident.
The captives watched with wide eyes, baffled at how he had remained unresponsive to Jonah's abuse yet seemed agitated now.
The Red Earl, in the adjacent cage, was also sound asleep, though his posture was far more elegant. Unlike Charlotte's restless state, he exuded the poise of a nobleman even in slumber.
Among the sobbing, the two stood out starkly as if they were in a world of their own.
---
Meanwhile, in Butler Fei's office, Jonah approached with a servile smile.
"Boss Fei, you called for me?"
Fei handed him a clipboard with a list of slaves.
"These are tomorrow's auction items. Make sure everything is in order. We'll have some very important buyers, including princes, nobles, and even the mayor himself. Don't mess this up!"
Jonah quickly skimmed the list, noting the numbers "98" and "99" beside Charlotte and the Red Earl's cages.
"Don't worry, boss. I'll make sure everything's perfect," he said confidently.
"Good. Now get to it."
Jonah bowed and left the office, making his way back to the warehouse.
---
As he walked through the rows of cages, Jonah ticked off each number on the list. When he reached Charlotte's cage, he paused.
"Hmph. Still sleeping like a baby. Let's see how smug you are tomorrow," he muttered before moving on to the next.
Once all the slaves were accounted for, Jonah left the warehouse satisfied, leaving the captives to their misery.
The oppressive atmosphere grew heavier. The quiet sobs turned into an almost rhythmic wailing, a symphony of despair.
This collective emotion seeped into Charlotte's unconscious mind, amplifying his discomfort. In his dream, he was engulfed by an overwhelming wave of sorrow and hopelessness.
---
Meanwhile, Rear Admiral Wells sat at a teahouse, frustration etched across his face.
"General Kong, I've lost Charlotte. I'm sorry!" he reported to the Den Den Mushi in his hand.
In the Marine Headquarters, Admiral Kong's expression darkened at the news.
"It's fine. Your safety is the priority. Keep looking for him, but maintain a safe distance. Don't engage," Kong instructed, his tone sharp but measured.
"Yes, sir!" Wells replied before Kong hung up the call.
Wells sighed heavily, slipping the Den Den Mushi back into his coat. He turned to his men, who sat around him looking equally dejected.
"Spread out and keep searching. We can't report back empty-handed!"
The sailors nodded and dispersed to comb the streets of the Seven Water City.
By evening, the exhausted team regrouped at the teahouse, still without a trace of Charlotte.
Wells slumped in his chair, rubbing his temples in frustration. "Where the hell could he have gone?"
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