Chapter 1 A Blood Slave

"Welcome to Heaven Island, everyone. May tonight be one you'll never forget."

Surrounded by endless stretches of vast water, an electrifying auction unfolded beneath the island's lights.

At the center of the stage stood a golden cage, inside which a young woman reclined, her beauty bordering on the unreal.

Bare skin caught the glow of the spotlights as her thick, seaweed-dark hair spilled down her back, draping over her body like a silken curtain that concealed more than it revealed.

She looked like a master artisan's creation-delicately innocent at a glance, yet laced with a quiet, dangerous allure that tugged at the eye.

Dressed in a tailored tuxedo and a polished silver mask, the auctioneer lifted his microphone, his sharp gaze cutting through the crowd before he announced evenly, "Presenting the final item of tonight's event: one hundred milliliters of blood from the blood slave, to be drawn on-site. Bidding will open at ten million dollars."

The men below watched in hushed awe, their gazes locked on the breathtaking woman displayed inside the golden cage.

"To hell with the blood-I want the woman herself. Name your price," someone yelled hoarsely from the crowd.

With a measured smile, the auctioneer answered, "My apologies, gentlemen, but this is the first blood slave Heaven Island has successfully cultivated in five years. Her blood is extraordinarily rare-it can purge toxins, accelerate healing, and heighten physical potential. More than that, it ignites overwhelming desire in its recipient, and it has even been proven to restore virility to those long thought beyond help."

Well aware that selling the blood slave outright would sabotage their future gains, the auctioneer let the pause stretch before carrying on. "Tonight's winning bidder for the hundred milliliters of blood will also be granted a complimentary night in her company. She is a true virgin-flawless, untouched, and exquisitely rare, a treasure seldom seen even in legends."

The announcement sent a fresh wave of excitement rippling through the tiers of seats, voices rising and overlapping in frenzied bursts. Compared with vague claims of detoxification, the suggestion of renewed virility was what truly set their blood racing.

"Are you saying her blood could actually make a useless man whole again? Are you serious right now? That's insane!"

"I'm not convinced. She's just stunning, that's all. A few million for a night's amusement, maybe-but this kind of fuss feels ridiculous."

Hidden within an opulent, shadow-drenched private box, a masked man idly rolled a distinctive black ring around his thumb. An effortless confidence clung to him, and a trace of amusement flickered through his deep gray eyes.

What caught his interest was the woman confined within the cage, delicate and arresting, like a beautiful little kitten dropped into danger.

Men, after all, had always enjoyed the pursuit of women-especially one so breathtaking and untouched.

Down below, the crowd wavered between desire and doubt, tempted by the bonus yet unconvinced by the spectacle itself.

Catching the mix of skepticism and idle amusement, the auctioneer let out a knowing laugh and reached out to tap a control button.

At once, a towering iron cage began to rise beside the golden one, its heavy bars groaning softly as it emerged onto the stage.

Trapped inside were ten well-built, healthy female wolfhounds in heat, their bodies gleaming, along with a single elderly male-frail, cloud-eyed, and visibly spent.

As the only male present, he drew their relentless attention, the females crowding close, rubbing against him while sniffing and licking with restless urgency.

Despite the frenzy around him, the male wolfhound showed no response at all, his body slack and distant as he retreated to one corner, clearly stripped of both instinct and strength.

"Keep your eyes open," the auctioneer called out, his voice carrying as he stepped into the golden cage and calmly drew an entire vial of blood from the blood slave's arm.

With no attempt at concealment, he plunged the needle into the male wolfhound and injected the blood straight into its vein.

All across the hall, the audience went silent, breath caught as they waited for what would happen next.

Almost instantly, the male wolfhound shuddered, muscles jerking before it lurched upright with startling force. Cloudiness drained from its eyes, its spine straightened, and renewed vitality surged through its frame, even its tail lifting stiffly as if reborn.

Driven by a razor-sharp focus, the male wolfhound lunged into the pack, mounting the pheromone-soaked females with manic urgency. Blood stained the floor beneath them, yet he showed no sign of slowing.

As one exhausted female crumpled, he simply stepped over her and was already mounting the next.

What unfolded became a brutal, unnervingly exhilarating spectacle, each moment more ferocious than the last.

"Eleven million dollars!"

"Twelve million dollars!"

"Twenty million dollars!"

The room erupted. Shouts overlapped as bids rocketed higher, the crowd spiraling into chaos.

Faced with such a breathtaking prize, no man could pretend indifference-not with a night like that on the table, and certainly not with the priceless value of her blood layered on top of it.

Within the golden cage, the woman slowly shifted her weight and leaned into a corner, her thick hair spilling down to trace the elegant lines of her body, softening her silhouette with a dangerous, tantalizing allure.

Listening to the wild bidding below, she already understood the fate being carved out for her.

From the shadowed private box, Preston Kirk watched the chaos unfold, his brow tightening. "Mr. Ford, this has gone completely off the rails. It's already hit twenty million. Are we seriously not stepping in?"

After all, he and Charlie Ford hadn't crossed half the world just to sit back-they were here for the blood slave's blood.