World's Best Protagonist [BL]

[3rd Person’s POV]

Etienne’s breath hitched after his already dark vision inside the sack became even darker. He knew it meant they entered a room devoid of light. His hands were freed, but the sack on his face remained.

He heard low whimpers and fearful sobs which broke his heart. Different timbres of voices—there were adults, children, men, and women. His hand instinctively reached out to Noir, but the man escorting them, upon noticing his hand raised, smacked it hard.

Etienne whimpered because of the stinging pain.

Noir turned to the noise aggressively, shouting, "Etienne?! What did they do? Fuck! Don’t fucking touch him! I’ll kill you!"

"I’m fine, Noir. It was nothing," Etienne answered, caressing the back of his palm, which turned visibly red from the hit.

"Are you sure you’re okay? What was that sound?" Noir probed.

However, he was pushed further into the room with a warning, "Shut your mouth or I’ll shove my fist in it!"

Noir seethed. His face under the sack fumed with anger. "I dare you to try! Don’t you know who I am?!"

The man scowled. He kicked Noir in the guts with brutal force. Then, he spat on him, the mucus landing on Noir’s chest.

"Don’t act tough, kid. I don’t know who you are, but I do know whose lap you’ll end up on. You and your pretty friend." The man laughed afterward.

"You—!" Noir was about to step forward and retaliate, but he suddenly felt a familiar hand touch his chest, stopping him.

Finally, the sacks over their heads were yanked off, and rough hands shoved them forward into a dimly lit room.

Etienne blinked against the sudden light, the sharp sting of dried sweat and rope burn making his eyes water. Noir stumbled next to him, catching his footing just as the heavy iron door slammed shut behind them.

The stench hit them first—sweat, dirt, blood, and fear all mingled into a single, suffocating breath.

Around them, huddled forms lined the cold stone walls—children, women, and strikingly beautiful men, all bound, bruised, and watching with hollowed eyes.

Etienne’s breath caught in his throat once more. Some of the children whimpered, clutching at broken limbs and bloodied clothes. A woman near the back coughed violently, her body trembling.

"No..." Etienne murmured, stepping forward instinctively, his palms already beginning to glow with a soft, green light.

Before he could kneel, though, Noir’s hand shot out, grabbing his wrist with more force than Etienne expected.

"No. Don’t." Noir’s voice was low, but fierce. "You shouldn’t do it."

Etienne blinked, surprised by the edge and lack of sympathy in Noir’s voice. "But they’re hurt—"

"I know," Noir snapped. "But you should understand, Etienne. If they see what you can do, you won’t be healing people for long. You’ll be sold off before you can say please."

Etienne frowned, visibly confused, but Noir leaned in, lowering his voice.

"You think they’re keeping us alive because they’re merciful? No. They’re waiting. Watching. Looking for anything useful to sell off. If they find out you’re a healer, they’ll treat you like property. Like premium property."

Etienne’s hands lowered, the glow fading reluctantly.

Noir sighed and released his wrist, his expression softening, but only a little. "We help when it’s safe. Not now, and not here. You get me?"

Etienne nodded quietly, guilt tugging at his chest as he looked around the room again.

Noir turned and slid down against the wall beside him, whispering, "Just stay low. We’ll get out. When they transfer us, we’ll use that opportunity to escape."

Etienne sat beside him, hands clenched tightly on his knees, eyes flickering from the wounded to the locked iron door.

"We will help them escape too, right?" he asked Noir, whispering.

"They are my people, so of course, I’ll help them," Noir said firmly. Etienne looked at him, puzzled, but he didn’t elaborate any further.

"I didn’t survive Earth and successfully return into this world just to rot in a damn slave den," he murmured as he began thinking of how to overpower the slave traders.

Etienne held Noir’s hand tightly and exchanged determined and comforting looks with each other. They braved that suffocating darkness, surrounded by the other victims’ fear, clinging to hope while holding each other’s hands.

They lost track of time, but when the iron door was opened again, a few burly men came in and dragged a few victims, Noir and Etienne knew it was time.

They were among the ones picked up and were to be transferred to wherever it was. They both readied themselves, observing the four men carrying swords at their hips, as they were escorted outside.

They walked into an underground tunnel. Noir discerned it was connected to an auction room, where victims were being sold. He deliberately slowed down his steps, furtively glancing around to find a point where they could escape.

But the only paths in that tunnel were where they came from and where they would end up.

Several minutes passed, and the first batch of products finally arrived at the other end of the tunnel, where an old door stood. The men opened it, forcing the group to climb up the stairs.

A woman on Etienne’s left side began shaking uncontrollably. Her small, round face was drowned in tears. She incessantly shook her head and clutched her wrist to her chest. Her messy, long, curly, auburn hair swayed with her movement.

"D-Don’t d-do this...p-please...Don’t s-sell us. P-please...send me b-back to my f-family...I beg you...hic...huu..."

The other victim seemed to gain the courage to speak up and began begging the four men. However, not an ounce of pity was seen on their faces.

They were rather annoyed and impatient. One woman who limps but has a generous bosom, her cleavage peeking out of her worn-out squared neckline dress, despairingly clung to one of the men and begged him repeatedly.

Her redundant pleas clearly added to the irritation of the four men.

"Will you all shut up?!" The guy yelled and forcefully pushed the woman. She lost her balance on the steps, and she stumbled down the stairs.

"No!" Etienne tried to grab her falling body, but the other guy yanked him forward. Thus, he just helplessly watched the woman fall to her death.

"Hey, we were told not to destroy the commodities!"

The man who pushed the dead girl scratched the back of his head. "That thing is so annoying. She will only anger our customers! Pay it no mind! Let’s move ahead!"

He pushed Noir, and when he noticed Noir glaring at him with a fiery gaze, he pointed his index finger and pushed Noir’s forehead with it.

"What?! You want to be the next broken doll down there?!" the evil guy yelled.

Noir gritted his teeth. He looked ahead after taking a deep breath as he convinced himself that he needed to prioritize Etienne and his safety.

However, this incident had carved a deep mark in his heart, slapping him with the reality of how powerless he was without his awakened power, despite being a prince.