The Price of Freedom

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The first item was rolled out on a little metal cart, a white cloth shrouded it in mystery making the guests anticipate what was under it. Frankly though, by the shape and size, it didn't seem like the item they were looking for.

"Our target will probably show up later in the auction because it's a quite high quality item," the American placed his hands behind his head, a lazy smile creeped up on his face.

South furrowed his brows underneath his shadowy hood, "if it's a high quality item, where are we going to get the money to actually purchase it?"

After all, they were students with not much of a source of income. But in response, the prince let out a light 'hmph' in arrogance, once again, he recklessly slit his wrist with his other hand.

This was almost expected at this point...

The putrid stench of blood filled their lungs, though not for too long. It wasn't crimson blood that dripped down his wound but rather a golden liquid, as it poured to the ground, it solidified to form bars of gold. One by one the gold bars piled up into a small stack, the mere beauty of such a scene nearly blinded everyone.

Well except for China, the other rich kid.

They stared in awe at their new money machine, even picking up a piece and knocking on it to see if it was legit. "See? You can trust me."

Although they don't admit it, he is quite reliable despite his mischievous personality.

Leaning on the side table, Russia took another shot. The burning liquid trickled down his throat, shortly after, he could feel a slight heat rise to his neck.

Noticing this, America leaned over, "hey don't get drunk on a mission."

"I'm not going to, my tolerance is quite high."

America chuckled as he traced the tip of his finger on the rim of the cup, in the distance he heard the busy chatter of the other guests as well as his teammates admiring the items on display.

However behind his dragon, he saw some familiar faces in the other booth. A few government officials from the palace, most likely sent by the king to bid on some items. Perhaps to keep the revolutionaries in check as well.

They were watching. Burning stares bore a hole right through America, deducing by their expression, they were trying to figure out which one of them was the ringleader.

The prince leaned in right next to the Russian's ear, "the kingdom is watching us over at 2 o clock, careful now, don't show your flames." The heavy scent of alcohol tangled in the air between them, Russia's piercing amber eyes stared into America's icy blues, a stark contrast.

"Right.." Russia didn't turn to look behind him, that was dumb. Rule number one, don't let the enemy know that you've caught on.

His irises lowered to the American's arms, "your wrist?"

America was pleasantly surprised at this question, "you know I can regenerate yet you still ask about my injuries, how odd."

Sure, Russia also found himself odd sometimes. Another shot slid down his throat to quench his thirst, the room was starting to feel hot, or perhaps he was starting his spiraling descent into intoxication.

At the 2 o clock booth, a government official watched them, eyes trailing upon each member to try and figure out the leader. Another thing he noticed was there seemed to be more individuals this time, in reports it was stated that they were a group of 7. However there seemed to be an addition this time.

Was their leader perhaps the one leaning over the edge, trying to get a good look at the stage? The two individuals propped an inch apart of each other seem notable as well... he hurriedly jotted down those two might be a couple. It could prove useful as a weakness in the future.

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