FFF Class Auto Hero: The Weakest Class Turned Out To Be The Strongest?
Chapter 44: The Plan Part Two

Chapter 44: The Plan Part Two

Lunareio sighed reluctantly, his hooded gaze fixed on her as he weighed her words. "Fine," he said at last.

"You’ll meet her, Lilith. But you must not harm a hair on her head."

Lilith clasped her hands together, giggling softly, the sound both sweet and faintly menacing. "Oh, I wouldn’t dare, my lord," she said, her smile widening.

"I only wish for the child to understand... hierarchy."

Lunareio sighed again, rubbing the bridge of his nose beneath his hood, the weight of her intensity settling over him.

’She’s definitely jealous,’ he thought, but he pushed the notion aside.

Turning his attention to Dazmar, he leaned forward, his voice resolute. "Dazmar," he said, "I want you to use the funds you’ve gathered to purchase every beast kin you can find being sold as slaves. I don’t care the price—I want all my children back."

Dazmar smiled wickedly, his eyes gleaming as he bowed slightly, his deep blue coat swishing. "Consider it done, my lord."

"I’ll have them freed and brought to you in no time."

....

....

The train roared through the twilight, its sleek, black frame slicing through the misty outskirts of Vyrathia, a sprawling port city where the air was filled with the smell of salt and the din of commerce.

The locomotive was a marvel of arcane engineering, its panels inlaid with silver filigree that shimmered under the glow of gas lamps flickering along the tracks.

Powered by a pulsing crystal core, it hummed, its windows tinted to shield its passengers from prying eyes.

Inside a luxurious private cabin, Dazmar lounged against plush velvet seats, his deep blue coat pristine despite the journey.

His expression was still set in a thoughtful smirk, eyes still glinting with thrill of excitement and purpose.

Across from him sat his assistant, Zynara, a striking woman with half white and black hair streaked in wild patterns, her left red and right purple eyes sparkling with mischief.

Her lithe frame was clad in a fitted black leather tunic with silver accents, a short cape fluttering as she leaned forward, her playful grin giving away her restless energy.

Zynara twirled a dagger between her fingers, the blade catching the light from the cabin’s crystal lanterns.

"So, sir," she drawled, her voice a teasing lilt, "care to fill me in on the specifics of our lord’s grand request? I mean, ’buy all the beast kin slaves’ is deliciously dramatic, but are we talking every beast kin in Vyrathia? The whole continent? Or just the ones with the fluffiest tails?"

She winked, tossing the dagger up and catching it. "Gotta know if I’m charming the auctioneers or just drowning them in your gold. Or, ooh, both—imagine me flirting with those old bastards taking in that disgusting look on there faces before I slit their throats."

She giggled, "Good old times."

Dazmar chuckled, leaning back as he adjusted the golden chain bearing the Waxing Gibbous Moon emblem on his chest.

"Zynara, your chaos matches your hair," he said, his tone smooth and amused. "Our lord was clear: all beast kin being sold as slaves. No exceptions. Price doesn’t matter—our lord wants his children back, and I don’t disappoint."

His smirk widened, excitement glinting in his eyes. "This auction’s the biggest in Vyrathia. If we’re lucky, we’ll free dozens tonight. If not... I’ll buy the whole damn market."

Zynara’s eyes widened, her grin turning impish. "Always so drastic! But it is what I like about you. Buying a whole market? That’s the kind of flex I live for. Bet I could haggle the price down just by batting my lashes. Or maybe I’ll tell ’em our lord’s a god who’ll zap them with moonbeams if they don’t play nice."

She giggled, mimicking a dramatic smiting gesture, her hands glowing faintly with purple arcane sparks. "Pew! Divine wrath, courtesy of yours truly. Think that’d work?"

Dazmar raised an eyebrow, his smirk unshaken. "Your theatrics might make them hike the prices, not lower them. Stick to the plan: we bid, we buy, we free. No need for your... light show." He gestured to her hands, where the arcane sparks still danced.

Zynara pouted, crossing her arms with exaggerated flair. "You’re no fun. Back in the golden era, our very moon emblems could make any agree with our lord’s request, Daz. Fine, I’ll be a good little assistant. But if some greasy auctioneer tries to rip us off, I’m slipping a hex into his drink. Nothing deadly—just a week of itching in places he can’t reach."

She leaned closer, her red and purple eyes glinting. "So, how many beast kin are we expecting? And what’s the vibe? Sneaking them out quietly, or making a big scene to rub it in the slavers’ faces?"

Dazmar’s gaze drifted to the cabin window, where Vyrathia’s neon-lit underbelly came into view—taverns, brothels, and the looming silhouette of the auction house, its iron gates adorned with gilded spikes. "The auction’s run by the Crimson Veil Syndicate," he said, his voice lowering. "They’re not just slavers—they’re connected, powerful. Expect at least a hundred beast kin tonight, mostly Silverclaw, maybe some Ironfang or Duskmane. We’ll bid openly, no sneaking. Our lord’s name still carries weight, even if they don’t know his full power yet. Let them see we’re not afraid."

"Also, the reason we chose here was because the boss lost his brother to some deal gone wrong in the outskirts of the Aradorn kingdom, so now he wants to do a discount sale to honour his death. No better opportunity to swoop in and buy everything."

Zynara clapped her hands, bouncing in her seat. "Oh, I love a power move! Strutting in like we own the place, snapping up every beast kin while those Syndicate goons sweat? Genius as always, I see." She kissed her fingers, then paused, her expression turning sly. "But, real talk, Daz—our lord’s got you dropping a fortune. You sure you’re not just showing off to be his favorite?" She batted her lashes mockingly, leaning so close her cape brushed his knee.