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The Dangerous Black Market.

The moon shined brightly that night, partially hidden by black clouds and partially peeking through to avoid the pink sand that gleamed like rubies. The vapors from the scorching sun of the day were chased away by the chilly desert wind. As he marched toward the busy settlement, Kiran's shirt fluttered to mimic the sound of rustling wind.

"If there aren't 40 tents, there must be more than 50 of them!" Kiran pondered.

The sound of raucous, deafening shouts in a language other than the one spoken on this continent of Ayax—possibly the language of the land of Shouya. Every now and again there was the sound of a whip being cracked, which prompted a cry that suggested the object wasn't human but rather an animal.

"What are the people doing in this collection of tents that make up the village?" Curiousness developed in Kiran's heart.

Kiran opened the wire fence that surrounded the community when he noticed a dark opening between the two sides of the most isolated tent. After coming inside,
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