Chuuya Nakahara

The darkened sky caused a need for a second source of illumination. Business was just starting, after all.

Fires flamed up to the sky, torches lined the various stands under the cover of the trees in this hidden away hotspot for illegal dealings.

The flickering flames bounced off various figures moving about in the thick crowd. This was a place many came to show and sell off treasures of war. Slaves, jewels, creatures of all kinds, faux potions, illegal game, and much more. It was it's own separate economy that came alive just as the sunlight died down.

Of course, the high Capitol is more than aware of the existence of such criminal activity sites. They can't help but scowl in disgust at such things happening right under their noses. Due to the sites having frequent changing patterns like that of a nomads, it is quite difficult to hunt down and snuff out every site. To think, one of their own was a frequent out of sheer boredom.

In a stall owned by a vicious old man, a large tarp made of thick burlap covered struggling goods beneath. He kicked it with a frown, not aware of the young man having approached the stall. That is, until he cleared his throat intentionally for the old geezer.

The man snapped his head to look at the younger, glaring with obvious suspicion. Even if it's business, every shady trade could prove a scam or deadly for either participant if one was not wary. He spoke gruffly, years of smoking obvious from the strain in his voice.

Old man: "Whatcha want here, boy? I ain't got much to sell this day."

The man did not answer directly, only making a query about the suspicious, covered, and moving creature hidden from his view. The old man scoffed.

Old man: "That ain't nothing of your concern, boy. Even if it were, you ain't got enough."

The words were derogatory, and the old man glanced over the younger with distaste.

Old man: "Hell, with how broke you look I doubt you'd be able to get anything. Why don't you scurry back to the rat infested and shit covered alley you sleep in so others can do actual business."

The old man's words were met with annoyance but understanding. Promptly, a bag was produced from his inner trench coat pocket and dropped onto the wooden stall's small counter. The contents spill out as it makes contact; silver coins.

The old man raised a brow, not expecting something of that worth to be produced from this rather.. less than promising young man. Before he could say anything, the poorly dressed young man queried about the suspicious lump beneath burlap once more. The old man groaned,

Old man: "Persistent damn bastard. Ahhh, very well. Can't say it's anything you'll want though. All it is is a pain in the ass."

The old man reached down and tore back the thick burlap to reveal a chained and gagged individual beneath. Bright red horns protruding from its ginger locks gave it away as an Oni. A demon. The creature looked thoroughly pissed as It thrashed against the chains. The young man stared with unblinking eyes at it. There was a.. a sense of, say, exhaustion that could be seen in the creature. Perhaps also in the physical sense, but it seemed to go much further than simply it's body's limits. It's soul is tired. How coincidental. It made the man grin.

With a nod and exchange of hands, the old man took the bag presented before him and the poorly dressed young man started walking off with the end of the demon's chain. Though, it was quite the struggle. Perhaps the demon is sour at being walked like a dog on a leash.

The two left the flickering light of the torches and fires behind, now walking through the dark woods unable to see anything other than eachother and the few feet in front of them. The demon, having been working on knowing through his gag the whole time, finally spat the fabric out with a growl.

Chuuya: "Foul and disgusting creatures. Humans are far more revolting than any other race I've encountered."

He wrapped a large, beastly hand around and enveloping the thick chain. With a sharp tug, he forced a stumble out of the man before him.

Chuuya: "Buying and selling everything, even your own kind, as some sort of damn prize. I ought to rip you to shreds and walk free again."