There was no trial, nothing. They didn't care whether he hurt anyone or not and never asked why he would attack anything. To them he was nothing but a 'terrorist' and before he had a chance to become a real threat to the country's beloved normal population, they took him out.

Yes, it was rash. Yes, he shouldn't have leashed out his anger. He always looked down on all those people who became violent, rather than to stop and think what it was they could do.
But well, there wasn't anything he could do. Maybe that was the point that drove them all crazy.

His sister was normal. It wasn't just that she didn't want to hurt anyone, she couldn't. She was one of those idiots who wouldn't abandon their home although they had the choice but those damn normal peope never actually cared. Anyone within a Special Disctrict probably automatically became an enemy in their eyes.
So when they raided the house Chanyeol's family was living in to find an escaped criminal, they didn't make a difference between innocent and guilty, power or not.

They shot her.
It was in the middle of the night and they didn't give a warning, so they probably thought that it was enough to use tear gas. But the escapee apparently was prepared and made the whole building shake violently. It was in the confusion when disoriented residents used their powers, when the Special Forces raiding the building had to hold onto everything that was somewhat stable and when Chanyeol's father was busy preventing his wife from burning their apartment, that the shooting began.

It wasn't just Chanyeol's sister that got hurt but she was the only one who couldn't defend herself at all. She couldn't grow herself new limbs. She couldn't twist the body of the one who fired the shot. All she could do was to drop to the ground along with the furniture, blood coming from her side, as she muttered that she was in pain.

She didn't immediately die but the whole fact that she became a victim of this meaningless fight made everything seem too ridiculous. No one brought her to a normal hospital outside the fence, although the doctors within the district often didn't know what to do with normal people who didn't have a power source to draw energy from. No one cared. Because her parents were Special Citizens. Because she was born in Special District 3. Because she lived in a house a criminal used as a hideout.

And Chanyeol snapped. When his parents spent another sleepless night next to his comatose sister, he left. He sat in the ruins that used to be their apartment for a while and felt completely calm when he went to the police station and set it on fire. It was as if he wasn't himself anymore as he kept on walking until he reached the fence, although he had a vague memory of standing in the middle of an inferno.

It was as if he only woke up when he was already on that crowded shuttle that was supposedly bringing him to an 'auction' after he signed some papers. "This is the only way out of an execution," a man in a suit had told him, so he hadn't really thought about it. He hadn't even fully realized that he suddenly became a death row candidate, probably because it was so completely different from the laws he had seen on TV. No one defended him, no one asked any questions. He wasn't normal, so the normal laws probably didn't really apply to him after all.

'The only way out of an execution' was an agreement to be sold off.
He had spent all his life in his small isolated world, so he had never thought of the possibility of slavery. He knew that there always were Korean Special Citizens within the contestants of the so-called Killing Games that started once every three months and were broadcasted around the world (as their commercials always said), but he had always thought that they were escapees, that they were there because they wanted to.
But as he sat among other criminals, a metal band cutting into his neck that would kill him the moment he used his powers, and listened to them wondering what kind of people would buy them, he realized that there probably was more the world.

Personal slaves. Bodyguards. Killing Game contestants. es. Pets. Cannon fodder. Lab rats.
It felt unreal. All he had wanted was to live a life as decent as possible within his limits but now his only future prospects made him wonder whether it wouldn't have been easier to die right away. If he got sold off, the money would go to the state that had abandoned him and his sister. If he made them kill him, they would have to pay for the execution and for having to dump him.
But, death? He didn't want to die. Not like that. Not for trying to set everything right. If possible not at all.

Just, when he stood in a row with murderers and other terrorists, he didn't really know what to do. Would it have been better to seem dangerous? Did he have to appeal to those buyers who seemed nice and decent? But were there actually nice and decent people who bought death row candidates from the Korean police? He had no idea.
So he just stood around impassively and answered the questions the buyers asked in broken Korean. No, he really didn't kill anyone, that's why he was in the ordinary terrorist row. His power was fire. Yes, thank you, he knew he was tall.
It got really annoying after a while, especially because he was told that the police would hand out their complete records to the buyers. But those records apparently didn't come with a translation device.

It was when he argued with one of the guards because he thought that the Chinese buyers kept insulting him, that a short guy and a tall guy stopped in front of him. The guard of course refused to help and the two discussed something, when the tall guy suddenly said the same thing all the other people had already said.
So maybe Chanyeol was too worn-out and too tired to answer any more stupid questions at that point. He wanted to call out to the guard but figured that he wouldn't help him anyway, so he muttered, "Okay, let's make this short. Me, fire." He pointed at himself and made wild gestures using his hands. "No death!" He crossed his arms. "And honestly, you people must be real cowards to insult people in a language they don't understand. I have no idea what you, tall dude, just said but I wish you the same, thank you very much."

The short guy then suddenly snorted, causing the tall guy to look at him in surprise. He repeated the same thing the tall guy and all the other people before him had said and before Chanyeol had a chance to protest, he continued in perfectly flawless Korean, "That's your name in Chinese. 'Piao Canlie'. The police files don't come with a translation, so all they can read are the Chinese letters of your name."

"Oh," he said and felt like an idiot. "The guard could have told me..." But the guard obviously didn't speak Chinese either.
The tall guy also looked at him mockingly when the short guy seemed to translate Chanyeol's misunderstanding. He was thankful to be called 'Park Chanyeol' for what seemed to be the first time that day, but now he was probably going to become the laughing stock among the buyers. What kind of fate would wait for someone who already prove to be stupid?

The short guy still looked quite amused as he browsed through Chanyeol's file and seemed to translate some parts.
"So, do you, uh, have any questions?" Chanyeol asked, mainly to break the awkwardness. The short guy gave him a short glance and asked the tall guy who just shrugged and already turned away to look at the next criminal.
It was then that something weird happened. He figured that the tall guy probably was the short guy's superior, so the moment he didn't have any interest into Chanyeol, it probably was absolute. But rather than to follow the tall guy, the short guy just kept standing in front of him, all the while looking at the file, and after another minute of silence, he looked up.

"Why did you attack government property?" the short guy asked.

Chanyeol shrugged. "They deserved it."

The short guy raised his eyebrow. "Who are 'they'?"

"The people who hurt my sister," he said meekly and to say it out loud felt like being thrown back to the moment he found her on the floor of the corridor. His eyes still stung and his brain suddenly felt blank. That's why he caused havoc. His brain just suddenly was empty and now here he was, talking to someone who probably only saw him as a product. He didn't even know whether his sister still was alive.

"You didn't kill anyone though," the short guy said quietly.

"I'm not them."

He didn't think that the conversation would have any consequences. He actually didn't think at all, so when he stood on that platform and when his prize seemed to rise into a ridiculous dimension, past any amount he ever thought of seeing with his own eyes, he didn't even care who it was who was bidding for him. It didn't make a difference anyway and he didn't really want to think about that 'future' he couldn't decide himself any longer.

But then he suddenly stood in front of the tall guy, who suddenly looked slightly grumpy, as if he also had no idea how this had happened, and the short guy who explained to him with a smile that his name was Xiumin and that he, Park Chanyeol, was now about to become part of Kris Wu's ship crew.