She was a short "girl" with skin as tough as black soil.

She had fangs and sharp claws, pupils a deathly green, and seaweed-like green hair that dragged on the floor.

Her face was round, but it could hardly be called attractive.

If not for the sexy, revealing gauze dress she wore, Baron would have almost mistaken her for a rusted, child-sized mannequin in a clothing store.

’It couldn’t be...’ Baron’s heart sank.

Sure enough, the Madam on stage announced, "This is our tavern’s most prized treasure, Miss Cuicui! Tonight, the starting bid for her ownership is fifty pounds! Raises are in increments of five pounds, with a ceiling of three hundred pounds!"

The crowd below erupted in cheers, the sound of bidding echoing endlessly.

Baron was dumbfounded.

’Wh-what in the world is going on?’ he thought. ’Is this Miss Cuicui secretly some kind of unparalleled treasure? Why else would so many people be clamoring to buy her?’

Even the Dwarf Captain, the one who had given Baron and Jack trouble at the city gate, had joined the bidding. Cries of "Five pounds!" and "Another five pounds!" echoed relentlessly.

Just then, Jack managed to struggle free from the Half-Elves’ tender clutches and whispered to Baron:

"These girls told me Miss Cuicui is a Dwarf hybrid. She accidentally drank a Magic Potion from a Silver Demon Hunter, and without proper treatment, she ended up like this."

"Dwarves have a strong desire for conquest. They love to conquer what others cannot... especially the uneducated ones..."

Before he could finish, Jack was pulled back by the Half-Elves. Let’s just say his evening was spent tasting the fruits of their vineyard.

The auction for Miss Cuicui was still raging. By the time Baron entered the fray, her price had already skyrocketed to two hundred pounds!

That was more than all the slender, stunning Half-Elf girls combined!

Two hundred pounds... that was two weeks’ salary for Baron, and that’s if he didn’t eat or drink!

’Money... it’s all money...’ Baron’s heart bled at the thought.

But to find Zophie, he had no choice but to raise his paddle again and again.

He bid relentlessly as he stared into Miss Cuicui’s dark green eyes, growing more tired of it with every raise.

Soon, the only ones left bidding were Baron and a few wealthy Dwarf merchants, including the Dwarf Captain.

Baron hesitated for a moment before finally lowering his paddle, withdrawing from this bizarre contest of appetites.

In the end, the Dwarf Captain was the one to hit the three-hundred-pound ceiling.

The Madam’s gavel fell, and she announced that ownership of Miss Cuicui now belonged to the Dwarf Captain.

The Dwarf Captain let out a booming laugh, refused to pay, and grabbed Miss Cuicui’s hand, heading for a private room in the back.

The Madam was about to raise hell about him skipping the bill but was blocked by the Dwarf Captain’s cronies.

All she could do was stand there and cry, "My Dwarf King, Pulansite!" over and over.

The other wealthy Dwarf merchants merely snorted, not daring to say a word.

Clearly, this wasn’t the first time the Dwarf Captain had skipped out on his bill here. But what could anyone do? His brother was a Bronze Tier vice-captain in the Holy Hall’s Wild Boar Knight Order.

In Plains City, he looked down on everyone except the Constantine Family, a few Ancient Clans with deep roots, and his own superiors.

A small brothel like the Black Forest? It was nothing to him.

This also explained why he’d dared to openly extort Baron and Jack right at the city gate.

Jack saw Baron stand up. "I’m going to the restroom."

"How long?"

"Be right back."

"Try not to fall in the toilet."

"If that happens, I’m flipping the whole place upside down."

...

In the private suite, the Dwarf Captain stared at the masked intruder. He felt the cold metal of a gun barrel press against his forehead and involuntarily swallowed.

Another gun was pointed at Miss Cuicui. Her face was drained of color as she cowered to the side, hugging her shoulders and trembling.

The Dwarf Captain raised his hands. "How much money do you want? I’ll give it to you. My brother is the vice-captain of the Wild Boar Knight Order, a Bronze Knight..."

The masked man pistol-whipped him. "I don’t give a damn about your Wild Boar Knights or Pig Knights! Now get on the ground and stay put! Goddamn it, skipping the bill is one thing, but making them queue up?"

Saying this, the masked man glanced around at the captain’s subordinates, whom he’d already knocked unconscious. ’Dwarves are a wild bunch,’ he thought.

’Wonder if old man Bagins was like this in his youth.’

"It’s a reward!" the Dwarf Captain argued. "Women are meant to be shared with your brothers..."

THUMP. The masked man knocked the Dwarf Captain unconscious.

Now, both guns were pointed at Miss Cuicui. Tears streamed down her face, her small, deathly green eyes brimming with hurt.

’Is this the effect of the Magic Potion? Why else would I find Miss Cuicui so captivating when she cries?’

The masked man paused for a moment before speaking. "Take off your clothes... no, that’s not right. Tell me where Zophie is!"

...

Back in the main hall of the Black Forest Tavern, Baron dragged Jack away from the tender clutches of the Half-Elves.

Jack was still in a daze. "All done in the restroom?"

"Stomach’s acting up. Need to go to the hospital," Baron said.

"Where’s the hospital?"

"Ben Mountain," Baron said, enunciating each word. "Ben Nevis Mountain. The highest peak in the Scottish Highlands."

"Are we leaving now?"

"We’re not walking."

Baron saw the Dwarf Captain and his men block the tavern’s exits and begin searching the crowd. He whispered, "We run."

"They’re here! That masked bastard!" one of the Dwarf Captain’s men shouted, pointing toward Baron. "He must not know a Dwarf’s nose is better than a dog’s! That scent... it’s the two outsiders from earlier today!"

"Capture them! We’ll call them Lawbreakers and turn them over to the City Lord Council!" the Dwarf Captain ordered.

The Dwarf soldiers swarmed forward.

Jack only had time to pull up his pants and stuff his shirt into his Soluble Ring, following Baron shirtless and stumbling like an emu.

Baron, by contrast, was much more composed. Perhaps he was used to fleeing for his life; he had anticipated being discovered from the very beginning.