"Koala," Alcaster began slowly, choosing each word with deliberate care, "have you ever wondered why—"
He stopped abruptly, his adult mind racing through calculations of risk and consequence. This was the moment of truth—the crossroads where he would either maintain the careful deception that had protected them both, or trust in the bond they had built over months of shared understanding.
Koala waited silently, her eyes reflecting both desperate hope and resigned acceptance of whatever answer might come. She had already risked everything by asking the question—now she could only wait for his response.
Alcaster studied her face, seeing beyond the conditioned responses to the intelligent, resilient spirit that had survived enslavement and trauma. This was the girl who had once navigated fishing boats by the stars, who had endured the systematic destruction of her village and her own psychological conditioning, who had slowly rebuilt her sense of self despite living in the heart of humanity's greatest evil.
Did he dare trust her with the truth? Even a partial truth carried enormous risks—not just for himself, but for her as well. Knowledge of his true nature could make her a target, or worse, could burden her with secrets too dangerous to bear.
But the alternative—continuing to lie to someone who had shown such courage in questioning the world around her—felt like a betrayal of everything he claimed to stand for.
"Koala," he said again, his voice softer now, "what I'm about to tell you... you may not believe it. You have every reason not to believe it, given where we are and what I am supposed to represent."
Her eyes widened slightly, recognizing that something significant was about to shift between them.
"The truth is," Alcaster continued, meeting her gaze directly, "I find myself in a position I never expected to occupy. I was born into this world of privilege and cruelty, but I... I cannot reconcile myself to it."
The admission hung in the air between them, laden with implications that could destroy them both if overheard by the wrong ears.
"You asked why I treat you differently," he said quietly. "It's because when I saw you at that gathering—terrified, smiling that horrible smile because you'd been conditioned to believe anything else would result in punishment—I couldn't pretend that was acceptable. I couldn't treat another person as property, regardless of what the law or society expected of me."
Koala's expression had shifted from fear to wonder, as if she were witnessing something she had thought impossible in this place.
"I know this makes no sense to you," Alcaster continued. "A Celestial Dragon expressing moral conflict about slavery? It sounds absurd even to me. But I've found that I cannot simply accept the world as it is, regardless of the circumstances of my birth."
He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper. "Every small kindness I can show, every improvement I can make to your conditions, every skill Agent Maris teaches you that might help you survive in this place—these may seem insignificant against the enormity of the system we're trapped within, but they're the only changes I can make without causing greater harm."
Koala remained silent for a long moment, processing this revelation that challenged everything she had been taught about the nature of Celestial Dragons.
"You... you really mean this?" she asked finally, her voice barely audible.
"I do," Alcaster replied simply. "Though I understand if you find it difficult to believe. The evidence of your own experience suggests that people like me are incapable of seeing slaves as anything other than property."
"But you're different," Koala said slowly, as if testing the words. "From the beginning, you were different. Even before Fisher Tiger's escape, even when I was still too afraid to do anything but smile and obey, you treated me as if..."
"As if you were a person with inherent worth," Alcaster finished. "Because you are. Your circumstances don't change that fundamental truth, regardless of what the laws of this place might say."
For the first time since her arrival at the Reed household, Koala's expression showed something approaching genuine hope—not the desperate, terrified hope of someone clinging to the possibility of survival, but the deeper hope of someone beginning to believe that the world might contain more goodness than she had dared to imagine.
"What does this mean?" she asked carefully. "For me, for... for the future?"
"It means that as long as you're under my protection, you'll be treated with the dignity you deserve," Alcaster replied. "It means that the skills you're learning with Agent Maris, the strength you're rebuilding in yourself—these will serve you well regardless of what comes next."
He paused, then added with careful emphasis, "And it means that when opportunities for meaningful change arise—which they inevitably will—you'll be prepared to seize them."
The implication was clear enough without being explicitly stated. He couldn't promise freedom, couldn't guarantee escape, but he was promising to help her become someone capable of recognizing and acting upon such opportunities when they presented themselves.
"I... I believe you," Koala said finally, tears beginning to form in her eyes—tears of relief rather than fear for perhaps the first time since her enslavement. "I don't understand how or why, but I believe you mean what you're saying."
"Good," Alcaster nodded relief flooding him. "Then we understand each other. This conversation remains between us, of course. The safety of both our positions depends on maintaining appropriate appearances in the presence of others."
"Of course, young master," Koala replied, the formal address now carrying a completely different meaning—no longer the terrorized deference of a broken slave, but the respectful acknowledgment of someone who understood the delicate game they both had to play.
"Now," Alcaster said, allowing his tone to return to more normal levels, "you should rest. Tomorrow brings new challenges, and we both need to be prepared for them."
As Koala rose to leave, she paused at the door. "Young master... thank you. For trusting me with the truth."
[Image of happy Kid Koala, pls help]
"Thank you for having the courage to ask the difficult questions," Alcaster replied. "That takes a strength most people never develop."
After she departed, Alcaster sat alone in his study, considering the implications of what had just occurred. He had crossed a line from which there could be no return—Koala now knew, his true nature. The risks were considerable, but so were the potential benefits.
More importantly, he had honored the trust she had shown in questioning him. If he expected others to find the courage to resist the corrupt systems that governed their world, he could hardly do less himself when faced with a direct moral challenge.
Tomorrow would bring his birthday celebration—a grotesque display of Celestial Dragon excess that would test his ability to maintain his cover while harboring these deeper truths. But tonight, for the first time since arriving in this world, he felt as though he was genuinely himself rather than merely playing a role.
It was a dangerous feeling, but also a liberating one.
Next day
"Your birthday gift this year is quite special, Alcaster," Saint Dominus Reed announced over breakfast, his tone carrying the satisfaction of a father pleased with his own generosity. "I've arranged for unlimited purchasing authority at the Sabaody Archipelago Human Auction House. You may acquire whatever specimens interest you for your collection."
Alcaster looked up from his meal, arranging his features into an expression of appropriate anticipation while his stomach churned at the implications. The Human Auction House—where sentient beings were bought and sold like livestock, where the suffering of countless individuals was transformed into entertainment for those wealthy enough to afford such "diversions."
"A most generous gift, Father," he replied, injecting just the right amount of excitement into his voice. "I've been considering expanding my personal staff beyond standard servants."
"Good thinking," his father nodded approvingly. "A young man of your station should begin developing an appreciation for quality acquisitions. The Sabaody markets offer specimens from across the Grand Line—rare breeds that would be impossible to obtain through standard channels."
The casual dehumanization in his father's language was nauseating, but Alcaster maintained his composed exterior. This birthday "gift" actually presented an unexpected opportunity—access to the Sabaody Archipelago and its auction house could serve purposes far beyond what his father intended.
"When shall I depart?" Alcaster inquired.
"This afternoon," Dominus replied. "I've arranged for proper escort and documentation. You'll have a full day to survey the available merchandise before the evening auction begins."
Perfect timing, Alcaster thought. Evening auctions typically featured the most "valuable" slaves—which often meant those who had been most recently captured or who possessed unusual characteristics that commanded premium prices.
"Shall Koala accompany me?" Alcaster asked casually. "Her organizational skills would be useful for cataloging potential acquisitions."
His father considered this briefly before nodding. "Acceptable. It would be educational for her to observe proper bidding protocols for future reference."
Educational indeed, though not in the way his father imagined.
The journey to Sabaody Archipelago aboard a World Government vessel was a study in contrasts. The ship itself was luxuriously appointed, with every comfort imaginable provided for its Celestial Dragon passenger. Yet Alcaster knew that below deck, in conditions deliberately hidden from noble view, captured individuals were likely being transported to the very auction he was meant to patronize.
Koala accompanied him in her role as personal attendant, maintaining appropriate demeanor while her eyes occasionally betrayed her awareness of their destination's true nature. Since their conversation the previous evening, a new understanding had developed between them—still carefully concealed from outside observation, but fundamentally different in its underlying dynamic.
"The Sabaody markets are considered among the most prestigious in the world," Alcaster commented to her as they approached the archipelago, speaking loudly enough for their escort to hear. "Your observations of procurement protocols will be valuable for future household management."
"Yes, young master," Koala replied, her tone appropriately deferential while her eyes conveyed understanding of the deeper purpose behind this expedition.
As their ship docked at Grove 1—the area reserved for World Government and Celestial Dragon arrivals—Alcaster steeled himself for what lay ahead. He would need to maintain his cover as an entitled young noble while secretly gathering intelligence and potentially positioning himself to make a difference in whatever small way circumstances allowed.
The massive auction house dominated the center of Grove 1, its gaudy exterior advertising the depraved entertainment within. Crowds of well-dressed patrons moved toward the building, their excited chatter suggesting the anticipation typically reserved for sporting events or theatrical performances.
But this was neither sport nor theater—this was the systematic commodification of human suffering, dressed up as sophisticated commerce for those with wealth enough to participate.
"Young Saint Reed," greeted a portly man in an expensive suit as they approached the entrance. "I am Disco, manager of this establishment. Your father informed us of your arrival—a birthday celebration, I understand?"
"Indeed," Alcaster replied, adopting the entitled tone expected of his station. "I'm interested in acquiring some unique additions to my personal collection."
"Excellent!" Disco's eyes gleamed with the enthusiasm of a merchant sensing a profitable transaction. "We have some truly exceptional specimens available today. Perhaps you'd like a private viewing before the public auction begins?"
The offer provided exactly the access Alcaster had hoped for. "That would be most agreeable."
As they were led through the auction house's opulent lobby toward the holding areas, Alcaster noted the security arrangements, staff protocols, and architectural features that might prove relevant for future reference. Everything was observed and cataloged while he maintained the facade of a young noble simply eager to acquire new possessions.
The private viewing area was a study in grotesque spectacle. Individual holding cells lined the walls, each containing captured individuals from across the Grand Line. Men, women, children—all reduced to catalog entries with attached price estimates and attribute descriptions.
Alcaster forced himself to examine each case with apparent interest while internally noting faces, conditions, and any details that might later prove useful. These people were victims of the same system that had enslaved Koala, that had captured Fisher Tiger, that perpetuated countless other atrocities in the name of Celestial Dragon entertainment.
"This section features our standard offerings," Disco explained, gesturing toward rows of cells containing individuals of various ages and backgrounds. "But our premium collection is reserved for the evening's main event."
They continued deeper into the facility, the conditions growing marginally better as the perceived "value" of the merchandise increased. Here, the cells were larger, the individuals better fed and groomed—not out of compassion, but to maximize their appeal to wealthy buyers.
"And here," Disco announced with obvious pride, "are tonight's featured acquisitions."
Alcaster looked ahead and felt his breath catch in his throat. At the end of the row, in a cell slightly larger than the others, three young women sat huddled together. Even at a distance, their distinctive features were unmistakable—the tall, proud bearing, the long black hair, the defiant expressions that hadn't yet been completely broken by captivity.
Boa Hancock and her sisters.
The future Empress of Amazon Lily sat with her back straight despite the chains around her wrists, her eyes burning with rage and determination. Beside her, Sandersonia and Marigold pressed close, their younger faces showing fear but also the same underlying strength that characterized their elder sister.
"Ah, I see you've noticed our crown jewels," Disco said, misinterpreting Alcaster's stunned expression as enthusiasm. "Three sisters from Amazon Lily—genuine Kuja warriors captured during a raid on their exploration vessel. Completely untrained in domestic service, of course, but their exotic nature and... physical attributes... make them highly sought after by discerning collectors."
The casual way he described these proud warriors as merchandise made Alcaster's hands clench into fists behind his back. These weren't objects to be bought and sold—they were individuals with their own hopes, dreams, and inherent worth.
But more than that, they were key figures in the future history he remembered. Hancock would one day become one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea, a powerful ally to Monkey D. Luffy, and a force for change in the world's power structure.
If she survived whatever horrors awaited her in Celestial Dragon captivity.
"They'll be the final lot of the evening," Disco continued. "I expect bidding to be quite spirited—we've had inquiries from several prominent families."
"I see," Alcaster managed, his mind racing with implications and possibilities. "What is the expected price range?"
"For all three together? Likely in the range of 500 million to 800 million berries, depending on how enthusiastic the bidding becomes."
An enormous sum by most standards, but well within the unlimited authority his father had granted him. The question was whether he could successfully acquire them and, more importantly, what he could do with them once they were technically his property.
"They interest me," Alcaster said simply. "I'll attend the evening auction."
As they continued the tour, his mind worked furiously to develop a plan. Simply bidding on the sisters wasn't enough—he needed to consider what would happen after their purchase, how to protect them from the fate that typically awaited slaves in Celestial Dragon households, and how to position them for eventual freedom.
The pieces were starting to come together, but the game had just become far more complex than he had anticipated.
The evening auction was a spectacle of wealth, power, and moral bankruptcy that exceeded even Alcaster's cynical expectations. The main hall buzzed with excitement as the wealthiest individuals in the world gathered to bid on other human beings as if they were rare artwork or exotic pets.
Celestial Dragons occupied the premium seating area, their elaborate attire and bubble helmets marking them as the auction house's most valued customers. Other wealthy patrons—pirates, merchants, nobles from various kingdoms—filled the remaining seats, all united in their willingness to participate in this commodification of human suffering.
Alcaster sat in the front row with Koala positioned respectfully behind his chair, both of them maintaining appropriate expressions while internally recoiling at the enthusiasm surrounding them. The other attendees chatted casually about their bidding strategies, as if discussing investments in livestock rather than the purchase of sentient beings.
"Lot 16 is particularly promising," commented the Celestial Dragon seated to Alcaster's left—Saint Shalria's cousin, if he remembered correctly. "A former Marine Captain with extensive navigation experience. Perfect for leading expeditions."
"I'm more interested in the entertainers," replied another noble. "The dancing girl from the North Blue shows exceptional potential for development."
The casual nature of these conversations was perhaps the most disturbing aspect of the entire proceeding. These weren't monsters reveling in their cruelty—they were simply people who had been so thoroughly insulated from the consequences of their actions that they had lost any recognition of their victims' humanity.
As the auction proceeded through its early lots, Alcaster observed the bidding patterns and identified the most aggressive participants. Several Celestial Dragons were actively competing for various slaves, their unlimited resources allowing them to outbid virtually any other interested parties.
When Hancock and her sisters were finally brought onto the auction platform near the evening's end, a visible hush fell over the assembled crowd. Even by the standards of this gathering, their presence commanded attention.
The three sisters had been cleaned and dressed in simple white garments that emphasized their natural beauty while making clear their status as merchandise. Hancock's expression remained defiant despite the chains binding her wrists, her eyes scanning the audience with undisguised contempt.
"Lot 157," announced the auctioneer with theatrical flourish. "Three sisters from the legendary Amazon Lily—genuine Kuja warriors with combat training and exotic appeal. Bidding will commence at 200 million berries."
The opening bid came immediately from a portly Celestial Dragon whom Alcaster recognized as Saint Charloss—Shalulia's father.
"250 million," called another voice from across the room.
"300 million," Saint Charloss countered without hesitation.
As the bidding escalated rapidly, Alcaster remained silent, waiting for the optimal moment to enter the competition. Too early, and he would simply drive up the price unnecessarily. Too late, and he might find himself unable to match the final bid.
The price climbed steadily—400 million, 500 million, 600 million. Several of the non-Celestial Dragon bidders dropped out as the amounts exceeded their resources, leaving primarily World Nobles competing for this particular prize.
At 700 million berries, only two bidders remained active: Saint Charloss and a thin Celestial Dragon woman whom Alcaster didn't immediately recognize.
"750 million," the woman called, her voice carrying supreme confidence.
Saint Charloss hesitated for the first time, clearly reaching the limits even of his considerable resources.
This was the moment.
"One billion berries," Alcaster announced clearly, his young voice carrying across the suddenly silent auction hall.
The effect was immediate and dramatic. Heads turned throughout the audience as people attempted to identify the source of such an aggressive bid. Even the auctioneer seemed momentarily stunned by the magnitude of the offer.
Saint Charloss's face darkened with anger at being outbid by someone so young, but his competitive instincts overrode his indignation.
"1.1 billion," he called out, his voice tight with determination.
Alcaster remained calm, letting a moment pass before responding. "1.5 billion berries."
The astronomical sum drew gasps from across the auction hall. Even by Celestial Dragon standards, it represented an enormous expenditure for three slaves, regardless of their exotic nature.
Saint Charloss opened his mouth to counter, then closed it again as he apparently reconsidered the wisdom of escalating further. After a long moment, he slumped back in his seat with obvious frustration.
"1.5 billion berries," the auctioneer repeated, scanning the room for any final challenges. "Going once... going twice... SOLD to young Saint Reed!"
Applause echoed through the auction hall as the extraordinary transaction was finalized. Alcaster acknowledged the congratulations of nearby patrons with appropriate grace while his mind focused on the next phase of his improvised plan.
He had successfully acquired Hancock and her sisters, but now came the far more challenging task of determining what to do with them. They were legally his property now—a thought that disgusted him even as it provided opportunities for protecting them from worse fates.
As the auction concluded and arrangements were made for transferring his new "acquisitions," Alcaster caught Hancock's eye briefly. What he saw there was neither gratitude nor hope, but rather a burning determination that suggested her spirit remained unbroken despite her current circumstances.
Good. He would need that strength for what came next.
The transfer of ownership was completed with bureaucratic efficiency that made the entire process feel disturbingly mundane. Documents were signed, payment was processed through World Government banking systems, and three human beings officially became the property of Saint Alcaster Reed.
The sisters were brought to a private preparation area where they would be cleaned and formally presented to their new owner—standard protocol for high-value acquisitions. Alcaster used this interval to finalize his immediate plans and consider longer-term implications.
"Young master," Koala whispered during a moment when they were relatively isolated, "what do you intend to do with them?"
It was a dangerous question to ask, even in private, but one that needed to be addressed given their new understanding.
"Help them," Alcaster replied simply. "Though exactly how remains to be determined."
Before Koala could respond, Disco approached with his characteristic obsequious smile.
"Young Saint Reed, your acquisitions are prepared for presentation. Shall we proceed with the formal transfer?"
"Yes," Alcaster nodded, steeling himself for what promised to be a difficult encounter.
He was led to a smaller chamber where Hancock and her sisters waited under heavy guard. The chains had been replaced with more decorative restraints—silver rather than iron, but no less effective at limiting their movement.
"Your new slaves, young master," Disco announced proudly. "I trust you'll find them satisfactory."
The three sisters stood in a line, their eyes downcast but defiant spirits still burning beneath the surface. Alcaster approached with the calculated indifference expected of his station, his expression betraying nothing of the turmoil within.
"They'll suffice," he said curtly, examining them as one might inspect livestock. "Proceed with the marking."
"Of course, young master." Disco gestured to an attendant who brought forth the heated branding iron bearing the symbol of the Celestial Dragons—the dragon's hoof that would mark them as property of the World Nobles forever.
As the branding iron was prepared, Alcaster maintained his cold demeanor while internally wrestling with what he was about to witness. This was necessary for the plan, he reminded himself. Without the mark, they would be hunted as escaped slaves rather than his legitimate property.
"Wait," Alcaster said as the attendant approached Hancock first. "Use the smaller brand."
Disco looked puzzled. "Young master?"
"I prefer subtlety in my markings," Alcaster replied with practiced arrogance. "The standard brand is... ostentatious. Use the ceremonial seal instead."
The attendant retrieved a smaller branding iron, its dragon's hoof symbol significantly reduced in size. It would still serve as the mark of ownership, but would be far less prominent—barely noticeable unless one knew where to look.
Hancock flinched as the smaller brand was applied to her back, the pain still excruciating despite the reduced size. Her sisters followed, each receiving the same discrete marking.
"Excellent," Alcaster said, his voice betraying no emotion as he watched their suffering. "Have them prepared for transport to Mary Geoise immediately."
"Shall I provide them with the standard slave instructions, young master?" Disco inquired.
"No need. My household staff will handle their orientation upon arrival." Alcaster turned away dismissively. "I expect them delivered within three days. Use your finest escort—I won't have damaged goods."
"Of course! And your travel arrangements?"
"I have other business to conclude here first. They can proceed without me."
As the sisters were led away to be prepared for transport, Hancock glanced back once. She met Alcaster's eyes for the briefest moment, finding only the cold indifference she expected from a Celestial Dragon. There was no hint of mercy, no suggestion that her fate might be anything other than a life of servitude.
"Will there be anything else, young master?" Disco asked once the chamber had been cleared.
"No. Send word when the transport departs." Alcaster adjusted his ceremonial robes. "I have other vendors to visit."
Once alone with Koala, he maintained his imperious facade even as his companion studied him with barely concealed confusion.
"Young master, you're quite gentle" Koala said
"I prefer my property to be aesthetically unmarked," Alcaster replied curtly. "Excessive scarring reduces their value for certain... purposes."
Koala's expression showed understanding, but she nodded. "As you wish, young master."
As they prepared to continue their business in the grove, Alcaster hoped the reduced scarring would at least spare them some small measure of the shame that came with bearing the full dragon's hoof. It was a minor mercy, but perhaps the only one he could offer without compromising everything.
The sisters would be transported to Mary Geoise as his property, unaware that their new master had already begun planning their freedom. For now, that was enough.
The evening was far from over, however. There was still one more crucial conversation he needed to have before this operation could be considered complete.
Shakky's Rip-off Bar occupied an inconspicuous location on Grove 13, far enough from the auction house and Celestial Dragon accommodations to avoid casual observation. The establishment's reputation as an information broker's den made it the perfect venue for the kind of conversation Alcaster had in mind.
He arrived starting midnight with Koala at his side, both of them dressed in simple civilian clothing that would attract less attention than Celestial Dragon finery. The bar was largely empty at this hour, with only a few late-night patrons nursing drinks in dimly lit corners.
Behind the bar stood Shakky herself—a middle-aged woman with short black hair and knowing eyes that suggested she was far more than a simple bartender. She looked up as they entered, her expression registering mild surprise at the appearance of such young customers.
"We're closed," she said simply, not hostile but not welcoming either.
"I'm not here for drinks," Alcaster replied, approaching the bar. "I'm here to discuss a business proposition."
Shakky's eyes narrowed as she studied him more carefully. Something in his bearing or manner of speech seemed to catch her attention.
"Business propositions require mutual benefit," she observed. "What could a child possibly offer someone in my line of work?"
"Information. Resources. And the opportunity to help three particular individuals who are currently in... unfortunate circumstances."
The mention of three individuals caused a subtle shift in Shakky's expression. In an establishment like hers, specific numbers weren't mentioned casually.
"Go on," she said, her tone now carefully neutral.
Alcaster glanced around the bar, confirming they weren't being overheard. "I have recently acquired three sisters from Amazon Lily. Former prisoners who are now my property according to World Government law."
"Interesting," Shakky murmured, though her casual tone didn't match the sudden intensity in her eyes.
"I believe one of them may be of particular significance to certain parties," Alcaster continued carefully. "A former Empress, perhaps, whose return of her people might be considered... valuable."
This time Shakky's reaction was unmistakable, though quickly suppressed. She set down the glass she had been cleaning and gave Alcaster her full attention.
"Hypothetically speaking," she said slowly, "such a situation would require very careful handling. The parties you're referring to might be interested in... liberating... such an individual, but the risks would be enormous."
"The risks are indeed significant," Alcaster agreed. "Which is why I'm suggesting a collaborative approach. I can provide security, resources, and inside access to situations that would normally be impossible to infiltrate."
"And in return?"
"A successful operation that ensures the safe return of these individuals to their proper place in the world," Alcaster replied. "Plus the establishment of ongoing communication channels that might prove useful for future... humanitarian efforts."
Shakky was silent for a long moment, clearly weighing the implications of what was being discussed.
"Such an operation would require very specialized assistance," she finally said. "The kind of expertise that doesn't come cheap and doesn't like to get involved in World Government affairs."
"I understand there may be someone with the necessary skills currently residing on this archipelago," Alcaster said quietly. "Someone with both the capability and the motivation to help right historical wrongs."
The reference to Rayleigh was subtle but clear enough for someone of Shakky's intelligence to understand.
"Even assuming such a person existed and could be convinced to participate," Shakky replied carefully, "timing would be crucial. These situations have a way of becoming more complicated the longer they persist."
"Agreed. Which is why I'm also willing to provide information about other recent... departures... that might be relevant to your hypothetical friend's interests."
Alcaster paused, then added with deliberate emphasis, "A certain fishman, who recently demonstrated that escapes from even the most secure facilities are possible with proper planning and execution."
This final piece of information seemed to tip the balance. Shakky's expression shifted from cautious interest to genuine engagement.
"Sit down," she said, gesturing toward a table in the corner away from the windows. "Let's discuss the details of this theoretical collaboration."
As they moved to the more private table, Alcaster allowed himself a moment of cautious optimism. The pieces were falling into place for what could become the most complex but potentially most meaningful operation he had yet attempted.
If successful, it would not only save Hancock and her sisters from years of slavery and abuse, but establish crucial connections with the Revolutionary movement and other forces working to change the world.
If unsuccessful, it could expose him as a traitor to his own class and result in consequences far worse than anything he had yet risked.
But as he looked at Koala—who had begun to believe that positive change was possible—and thought of the three proud warriors currently chained in his hotel suite, Alcaster knew the risk was worthwhile.
Some opportunities were too important to let pass by, regardless of the personal cost.
The real work was just beginning.