"I need that gem," the masked woman said, her voice low and urgent. "The blood ruby. If I can get my hands on it, my associates can analyze the blood content, then determine the victims, then trace the DNA, figure out exactly how they're manufacturing these things. Then we expose the entire operation."
She paused, her jaw tightening. "Though given that they control most of the media outlets that would publish such a story, exposure might not do much. But it's a start. Evidence. Proof. Something concrete."
She started pacing in the small bathroom, her movements agitated, the professional composure cracking slightly. "Damn it. Even if we prove it, even if we show the world exactly what they're doing, they'll just bury the story. Pay off journalists. Threaten publishers. Make it disappear like everything else."
Tòumíng's mind was racing, trying to keep up with the implications. Then a horrible thought struck him.
"Is Háo Héng part of this?" His voice came out shakier than intended. "Is he involved in the... in the trafficking?"
Ghost Claw stopped pacing and looked at him. "What access level was he granted?"
"He said I could access first floor and basement. That's it. Second and third floor are restricted."
"Then he's fine." Her voice was certain. "The compartmentalization is strict. Only people with third, floor access even know about the trafficking. Everyone else just thinks this is a high-end gemstone auction and networking event. Háo is probably just a mid-level player who moves gems and does blackmail on the side. Scum, but not involved in the worst of it."
"Wait, WHAT?!" Tòumíng's voice rose sharply. "TRAFFICKING?! You said trafficking! Like actual human trafficking?! There are people here, right now, being—"
"Not important right now," Ghost Claw cut him off.
"NOT IMPORTANT?!" Tòumíng's voice climbed higher. "There are people being held somewhere in this building and you're saying it's not—we have to help them! We have to call the police, or break them out, or—"
"Shh!" She moved quickly, clamping a hand over his mouth and pulling him toward the bathroom door. "Lower your voice before someone hears you and starts asking questions we can't answer."
She dragged him out of the bathroom and down a side corridor, moving with the kind of purposeful stride that made people assume you belonged wherever you were going. Tòumíng stumbled after her, his mind still reeling from the confirmation that actual human trafficking was happening in the same building where he'd just eaten beef Wellington.
They descended a staircase, the one leading to the basement level where the auction was apparently held. But instead of going all the way down, Ghost Claw pulled him into a room off the landing.
The room opened into a theater-style space—rows of seats descending toward a stage at the front. Already about a hundred people were seated, mostly the same demographic from upstairs: older wealthy men, young companions, the occasional younger attendee who looked like they'd bought their way in the same way Tòumíng had.
The auction hall. This was where the gemstone bidding would happen.
Ghost Claw pulled Tòumíng to the very back row, positioning them in seats that had a clear view of the stage but were far enough from other attendees to allow quiet conversation.
"Sit. Stay at the back. Don't draw attention," she commanded.
"I'm not just going to sit here while people are—" Tòumíng started to argue.
"Listen to her," Cupid interjected firmly. "Hear what she has to say before you go charging in like an idiot."
Tòumíng sat, his body tense with frustration and horror.
Ghost Claw settled into the seat beside him, her posture relaxed but her eyes constantly scanning the room, cataloging faces, positions, potential threats.
"The person who buys that blood ruby," she said quietly, her voice barely audible over the ambient conversation in the theater, "will have an enormous amount of money. But more importantly, they're guaranteed to know about the trafficking. Guaranteed to be one of the inner circle."
Tòumíng's mind immediately jumped to counterarguments, trying to find holes in her logic because accepting it meant accepting something too terrible to fully process. "What if they don't know? How can you assume someone traffics kids and women just because they have a lot of money and like gemstones? That's—that's profiling. That's making assumptions without evidence."
Ghost Claw's jaw tightened. When she spoke again, her voice had risen slightly despite her earlier warning about staying quiet. The agitation was creeping back in, professional control slipping.
"Because when you buy gems like that blood ruby, you pay the asking price—let's say one point two million yuan. Fine. Standard high-end gemstone transaction. But then—" Her hands clenched into fists. "—then you're expected to pay an additional two hundred thousand yuan 'processing fee.' That extra two hundred thousand yuan? That gets you the 'bonus package.'"
She turned to look directly at him, her green eyes hard and cold.
"The bonus package is trafficking victims. Women. Sometimes children. Delivered to whatever location you specify within seventy-two hours of purchase. For you to have your sick way with however you want. That's what the extra two hundred thousand buys. That's what comes with purchasing certain gemstones at these events."
Tòumíng felt the air leave his lungs. The Wellington threatened to come back up.
"So yes," Ghost Claw continued, her voice tight with controlled rage, "I can absolutely assume that whoever buys that blood ruby knows about the trafficking. Because you literally cannot purchase it without being offered the bonus package. It's part of the transaction. Part of the culture. Everyone involved knows. EVERYONE."
Before Tòumíng could respond, before he could process what he'd just heard, a voice spoke from directly behind them.
"Is something the matter, sir and madam?"
Both of them froze.
Tòumíng turned slowly.
A man stood there, middle-aged, wearing the kind of service uniform that indicated he was staff rather than a guest. His expression was polite, professional, but his eyes were sharp, assessing, clearly wondering why two people in the back row had been having an intense whispered conversation that had occasionally risen above appropriate volume levels.
"We heard raised voices," the man continued, his smile not reaching his eyes. "Just wanted to ensure everything is alright. The auction will begin shortly. We ask that all guests remain calm and respectful of the event atmosphere."