Ryo Nakamura

The auction contains the usual set of buyers in the criminal underworld and I'm no exception. The buyers sitting behind black one way windows facing inward to a small room where our radient prizes wait to be bought, we can see in but they can not see out to us.

I sit in my private room sipping on expensive sake, my heirloom katana Onimaru next to me. I eagerly await the next prize to be presented curious at what treasure this one will be like. I tap my fingers on my armrest looking out of the one way mirror, my dark tailored suit hugging my chiseled frame and my black hair slicked back.

I take another sip of the sake when at last the lights grow dim again until in the center of the inner room is lit. The single door leading into the room opens and in walks a presenter with a figure draped in a red hooded cloak that sweeps the floor behind them, the cloak obscuring the prize for a moment, the glint of a thick steel gold chain coming from the sleeves of the cloak being held in the grasp of the presenter.

When the figure gets in the middle they are made to stop, the head is bowed even as the center is lifted in the air about three feet putting them on a pedestal that rotates. "Ladies and gentlemen, the final prize of the evening is up for bid in 3...2...1" A robotic sounding voice announced and slowly the cloak is taken away.