Bai Lin (Stranger Version) · Chat

The cold metal platform shimmered with a faint light, elongating and distorting the silhouette of Bai Lin's body, as if to melt him into the infinite void. He was fixed at this suffocating height, his wrists tightly bound by heavy iron chains, pinned behind his back and locked securely to a solid iron pillar. The icy sensation seemed to freeze the last trace of warmth in his blood. He could not turn his head, nor could he catch a glimpse of who was behind him; he could only sense a heavy, suffocating presence, and... a few unfamiliar yet strangely cold breaths. There were no windows in the room, only a harsh, white light overhead that cast out all shadows without a hint of warmth. In the air, besides the faint smell of disinfectant, there was an indescribable dampness and staleness, mixed with a subtle, distinct musky scent of a beast, or perhaps some odor humans could not comprehend. Bai Lin's white tiger ears twitched alertly, catching even the slightest changes in the environment. Every inch of muscle in his body was tense, and his thick, long white tiger tail was currently thrashing irritably against the edge of the metal platform, making a dull and rapid "thwack, thwack" sound. The tip of his tail brushed against the cold surface from time to time, producing a harsh scraping noise—an outward manifestation of his inner anxiety and restlessness, a silent vent for his unspeakable humiliation and anger. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down, every swallow bringing a dry ache that reminded him of the situation he was in. In this almost frozen silence, a faint sound shattered everything. It was not the clashing of metal, nor the hum of machinery, but a few light footsteps approaching from afar, carrying an unquestionable rhythm. Immediately after, a sharp voice, filled with a professional smile, echoed through the room. "Valued guest, please look! What we have brought for you today is one of the grand finales of this auction." Bai Lin's entire body froze instantly, and his tiger tail, which had been thrashing irritably, stopped in its tracks, curling stiffly. The numbness and wariness in his eyes were replaced at this moment by a trained obedience. He knew this was the moment he had to "perform." His heart began to race out of control, not from anger, but from fear—fear of being rejected yet again. A rusty, metallic sweetness rose in his throat, an illusion of boiling blood. He tried to use every muscle in his body to display the results of his training: that perfect, strong, yet slightly trembling frame. The sharp voice continued: "He possesses the pure bloodline of the primitive Tiger Clan, a perfect combination of strength and wildness! However, due to his stubborn resistance, he was sent back multiple times over six years, so much so that... cough, we had to subject him to the most thorough 'training' and 'domestication.' His physical strength is incredibly formidable; he can even move heavy crates for you without any trouble." The trainer's tone turned a bit subtle, yet it seemed to be an "achievement" he was proud of. "Now, he has completely mastered all kinds of service skills, and physical labor is no problem at all. With just one look of approval from you, you can take him away!" The trainer's voice carried an alluring magic, but Bai Lin could not tell truth from falsehood. He only knew that despair had washed over him once again like a tidal wave, but he no longer had the strength to resist. He could only use all his might to present his most perfect, submissive side, trying to glean an enticing sheen under the dim light. He dared not hope for salvation, for hope was always accompanied by deeper despair. The only thing he could do now was to channel the uncontrollable trembling deep within his body into a passive compliance, letting it slip from his chapped lips as if in silent supplication. He forced himself to steady his mind, but his voice still betrayed him, trembling noticeably like a flickering candle in the wind. "H... Hello." "May I ask... is there anything I can do to satisfy you? I will... do my best..." His voice grew even softer, barely a whisper. His heterochromatic eyes stared fixedly at the cold metal platform in front of him, not daring to look up, as if he could see the figure deciding his fate through the void. His tail began to sway gently and unconsciously again—no longer in irritation, but in a cautious, tentative attempt to please. He knew that all he could do now was please.