Eastern Ukraine, high up in the latitudes. After years of turmoil through the Soviet era and the Russian era, this place is poor and hungry. It's not that there aren't any big cities here—it's just that wherever the government can't reach, there are swathes of lawless land and shadowy corners.
In a nondescript little town sits an abandoned factory. On the surface, it’s so rundown it’s almost laughable—crumbling walls, missing bricks, and at least a decade of neglect. But inside, down below, there’s a facility so fancy no one would ever expect it.
Deep underground, two burly men walk down a long corridor and arrive at a place called the 'Materials Vault.' They open a heavy iron door, and right in the middle of the room sits a huge coffin. The sight of something so ominous doesn’t faze them one bit. They walk up and lift the lid—inside, there’s a crystal coffin. And lying in that crystal coffin, platinum blonde hair flowing, is none other than Jill Young.
"Another Sleeping Beauty," one of the men leans over the crystal coffin, staring at Jill Young with a hungry look. He says to his buddy, "There’s still some time before the auction, why don’t we enjoy ourselves first? She’s not from the SD Syndicate’s ‘Saint’ Division, nobody cares if she’s... you know."
"Save it. Don’t think she’s easy to handle—she’s the new emperor of the Black Fist Circuit. During ‘prepping,’ even drugged up, she put one operative in a wheelchair for the rest of his life. The other guy? Worse—his face turned into a soup bowl." The other man knocks on the crystal coffin lid. "She’s been under heavy anesthesia this whole trip. No one dares lay a finger on her."
"She’s a wildcat, all right. Hope those old geezers at the auction can handle her."
"That’s the buyers’ headache. Worst case, we chop her up like the last female fighter—there’s always a way."
"Ha, true. But with a body like hers, chopping her up would be a shame. Maybe just take off the elbows and knees—leave a little, still looks nice!"
"Look at this woman—bet she was hot stuff before, top of the food chain. But one nap and now she’s just cargo. Classic plot twist—never gets old!" The man taps the crystal coffin. "High-dose anesthetic, my favorite. All right, let’s get to work—move her out!"
The man puts the wooden coffin lid back on. Together, they heft the big coffin onto a trolley and wheel it deeper down the corridor. Neither of them notices that, just as the lid closes, Jill Young’s eyes flicker. After so long under anesthesia, her body is finally starting to build resistance.
In the darkness, Jill Young opened her eyes.
Where... is this? What happened before... Oh right, someone attacked me and knocked me out! Jill Young’s heart skipped a beat, and she immediately started checking her condition. Even though it was pitch black and she couldn’t see a thing, she could feel through her skin that her clothes were still intact. Other than the weakness from the anesthesia, nothing else seemed wrong.
Thank goodness, nothing gross happened. Jill Young let out a sigh of relief. Now, where am I? What’s going on around me?
With everything around her unclear and her ability to defend herself limited, Jill Young didn’t make any rash moves. She gently lifted her hand and cautiously felt around—she didn’t have to reach far before hitting a barrier, smooth as glass. With small, careful movements, she explored her surroundings and realized she was locked inside something like a coffin.
Locked up again—seems like every time Jill Young wakes up in a weird way, she’s stuck somewhere. So annoying!
No clue what’s going on outside the "coffin." Jill Young thought back to some gangster movies and came up with a few guesses: maybe she’d been buried alive under a ton of dirt, maybe dumped deep in the ocean. Both those situations had escape possibilities, so she wasn’t too worried.
The worst case? There’s a concrete mixer outside, about to seal her up in cement. Depending on how dry the concrete is, escaping could go from tough to impossible—please don’t let it be that!
Wait—a tiny vent on the side wall is blowing in wisps of air. The air is laced with anesthetic gas, steadily robbing her of control over her body. So, she’s not buried underground or sunk in the ocean. If someone’s trying to keep her sedated, that means she’s worth something alive.
No matter what’s coming, first step: get rid of the drugs! A glimmer of light flashes in her right hand—Jill Young is holding a piece of meat, Ben Wang’s premium experience potion. She eats it, and waves of energy flood her body, banishing hunger and weakness. In the blink of an eye, she’s back to full strength.
"All right, let’s keep it going!" Jill Young pulls out a second piece of meat. She’d picked up the habit of stashing snacks in her Pocket Vault back in the ancient world—and today, that habit might just save her life. Seriously, good habits can change everything.
Suddenly, the coffin she was in jolted. From the shift in acceleration, Jill Young could tell she was being lifted up. The hum of machinery buzzed, and then—clunk! She felt a jolt, like she’d stopped moving. That’s when she heard a voice, sharp and bizarre, speaking English with a weird accent.
"Dear SD Club members, welcome to the new session of the Happy Six Event! Today’s not a high-end auction, but the quality of the goods is top notch. Low prices, high quality—honestly, I’m tempted myself! Now, even though you got a preview in the presale info, let’s officially greet our six little guests—open the coffins!"
In the next instant, a powerful light flooded in, forcing Jill Young to shut her eyes. But the second layer of the Insight Technique wasn’t affected by the drugs, so she quickly adjusted to the glare. A different gas sprayed in through the vent, rapidly canceling out the anesthetic—must be the antidote. "All right, our six little guests should be awake now. Stand up straight, everyone!"
This chapter isn’t over yet ^.^, click next page to keep reading!
With the whir of machinery, the coffin went from lying flat to standing upright, and Jill Young finally got a clear look at her surroundings.
She was on a high platform, the kind you’d see at a performance. Six coffins were arranged in an arc across the stage—Jill Young glanced left and right and saw she was fourth from the left. The other five coffins all held people, probably all women. In the center of the stage stood a person in a gaudy suit and a clown mask, looking both ridiculous and chillingly deranged. Around the edge of the stage, a wall of glass separated the performers from the audience.
Below the stage, more than thirty people sat or stood, all wearing clown masks. This broadcast hall-like room was a world ruled by these crazy clowns.
"I know all of you have your own connections—pet girls and such are old news. But the SD Syndicate is professional. We offer a unique experience—our products are people with real identities! Playing with ordinary folks isn’t half as fun as playing with someone important, right? According to the old rules of the Happy Six Event, there are six people: two ‘Saints,’ two ‘Demons,’ and two ‘Outcasts.’ Now, let’s introduce our contestants for this round."
The clown host pointed to the first coffin on the left: "First up, youthful, beautiful, elegant—looks like a goddess. But she’s actually our first Outcast, from New York, USA: Tranny* Houston!" (Thanks to everyone who’s been recommending my book on forums! I’m not great at socializing, so I rarely post or advertise anywhere. Huge thanks to those who help spread the word—you’re awesome!)