The shockwave makes the windows tremble, those unfortunate enough to be nearby are blown dozens of meters away. Everyone understands the magnitude of the magic, but what they do not know yet is the fate of the person who was at the epicenter of the impact.
A jet-black sphere spins on its axis, within which is a man impossible to discern. Slowly, the sphere contracts, and all hope is lost after seeing the street's ground is destroyed, leaving a hole in its place.
This sphere continues to shrink until a warm light reflects within it.
“Cough!”
Lawrence falls to the ground, coughing up a mouthful of blood. His battered body is a reflection of all the perseverance with which he fought to survive.
‘If this weren't dark magic, I would be dead!’
His eyes glare hatefully at that man.
The light surrounding his body is none other than sacred magic, which heals his wounds swiftly. Inside that jet-black sphere, his magic struggled to keep up, the cycle of damage and healing repeated countless times, so many that it is a miracle he is still alive.
As Lawrence heals, the crowd holds its breath.
“Magic… Sacred magic?”
It's a surprise that the man is still alive, of course, no one can deny it. But it is even more astonishing that he is a user of sacred magic! They do not harm humans or animals, so… How is it possible that he is the center of attention?
“Users of sacred magic walk the path of righteousness, it is impossible for them to lie as it would harm their Way and corrupt their magic. So…”
“Is the Violet Twilight auction house trying to eliminate a potential informant?”
A heated discussion ensues in the following seconds, one to which Misty Plain pays no attention, as his gaze is fixed on the receptionist with whom all this trouble began.
The receptionist panics, Misty Plain may have his expressions hidden behind a mask, but she can unmistakably feel his fury.
“I- In my experience, it's impossible for someone like him to have--”
Lawrence interrupts her. “You didn't even ask to see my item, cough…”
He struggles to speak, blood dripping from his lips as he forces out another word. An effort not in vain, as Misty Plain and the customers uncover who is in the right and who is in the wrong, which worsens the situation.
The Violet Twilight auction house cannot afford to lose here, otherwise--
“What is all this commotion?”
From the second floor, a man with a monocle makes his appearance. Immediately, everyone falls silent, as more than a few recognize him.
“Misty Plain, bring him. This individual pretends to have sacred magic to escape trouble, it's a magic artifact we should have auctioned. Now it will be back in our hands… A deal with him? Ha! Don’t make me laugh.”
Misty Plain seems to understand something and nods. “As you command.”
Lawrence’s eyes turn bloodshot, these people are ready to do anything to protect their auction house's reputation. If that's the case, he will not hold back. Even if he has to use his Dimensional Rift, he will! But first, he will settle his--
Misty Plain sees through his intentions and sighs.
“That man is helping you, he's just pretending. Follow me, the Violet Twilight auction house is a respectable place.”
“…”
Silently, Lawrence lets himself be supported. Pretending weakness, but hiding deep within him his intention to escape should anything go wrong.
The customers watch as Misty Plain escorts the man like a criminal, but none of them is willing to act. History is written by the strong, if the auction house says he is the criminal, no one is to say otherwise.
When Lawrence walks beside the receptionist, she smiles arrogantly at him. She knew she was right, he was the criminal, and she was the damsel. It's impossible for a level 500 beggar to possess a treasure worthy of auction!
This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.
‘This bitch…’
Lawrence holds back his urge to curse and continues walking until he enters a room. Inside, Misty Plain throws him a medicinal pill and then leaves in silence. If there was a sound, it was the door closing. Not a word came from him.
“Tsk.”
Lawrence was about to consume the pill when he notices its nature.
“Effective up to level 700? Damn, I'd rather keep hurting than use it right now.”
Shamelessly, he stores the pill in his storage ring, simply using more of his mana to heal his wounds at a faster pace.
When a man enters the room, Lawrence no longer has visible injuries and has changed his attire.
“Sir, may I appraise the item?”
This man is young, no older than 80 years. Lawrence does not wish to belittle him, but fears that his fertility pill will decrease in value if appraised by someone inexperienced.
“Are you up to it?”
The man smiles, unoffended, “It’s not the first time I’ve heard that.”
“I see…”
Lawrence still doesn't trust him, so he removes the container from his storage ring and uncaps it for just a fraction of a second. Immediately, a medicinal aroma fills the room.
As the man perceives it, he opens his eyes in surprise. “You are right, this humble one overestimated himself.”
He rises from his seat with a professional look and points to the door.
“Please follow me, I know someone who can give a better verdict than mine.”
Lawrence knew this young man was inexperienced, but is even more surprised by his professionalism in acknowledging his mistakes. He may have had a bad first impression of this auction house, but slowly he is starting to understand why it earned its reputation.
Whether it's Misty Plain or this young man, they know when to advance and when to retreat.
However… he will never be willing to forget that they once tried to assassinate him. They should pray to the highest that no opportunity arises, because if it does, Lawrence will take his revenge.
“This is the place, if you'll excuse me…”
The young man bows respectfully and then leaves Lawrence alone in front of a room. He sighs and then casually knocks before entering.
“Ah.”
Surprisingly, the person inside is none other than the man who despised him, making him appear like a criminal who had stolen an item of his possession. The same scenery behind him is where it all happened, there is no mistake.
The man with a monocle pays no mind to Lawrence's arrival, he is focused on pouring himself a glass full of alcohol. Only after taking a sip does he look up at him.
“Sorry, I always use this place to drink. I hope it doesn’t bother you.”
“Eh? No, go ahead.”
Lawrence didn’t expect such an apology, but quickly snaps back to reality.
“Great. So, what's the item?”
“It's a fertility pill, effective up to level 800. It doesn’t distinguish between races, turning a small chance into certainty.”
Lawrence hands over the container, while the man adjusts his monocle and examines the pill through the container very thoroughly. It seems he is not taking Lawrence's words into account, but this is a falsehood, his attention is directed at both places without losing track of either.
Seconds later, he squints and thinks, then he uncaps the container for a fraction of a second. His movement is perfect, the aroma does not spread through the room unlike Lawrence’s clumsy attempt.
Then the man is surprised. “Who refined it? You? No, you don’t have the characteristics of a refiner.”
The man's face shows seriousness as he observes Lawrence without missing a detail.
“Who’s behind you?”
After seeing his reaction, Lawrence is sure. The man in front of him is an expert, only one of them would be able to see the real value of this fertility pill!
“I’m just an intermediary. If we can come to an agreement, we would be happy to maintain contact in the future.”
Both gaze at each other. After a few breaths, the man nods.
“The introduction comes late, I am Demontre Sagul. Our Violet Twilight auction house would be delighted to do business.”
“Lawrence, it will be a pleasure.”
They smile as if they are friends who haven't seen each other for years, no one could imagine that just minutes ago both individuals had issues.
“It’s very interesting the item you bring, whoever refined it possesses extensive knowledge in spiritual herbs. They know its temperature and cooking time, nothing was kept longer than it should in the pill furnace. It is undoubtedly one of the most perfect pills I have appreciated during my stint at this auction house. If I may be so bold, who is the refiner?”
Lawrence remains silent and then shakes his head.
Demontre Sagul can only sigh, “I understand. Let’s proceed with the contract.”
Immediately a contract appears in his hand, partially written. Demontre Sagul is the one who fills in the missing parts. When his pen stops, it is not for anything else but to hand it to Lawrence.
“Under normal circumstances, the exchange fee would be thirty percent for the house and seventy for the seller, but our auction house offended you. The fee has been reduced for this exchange, this is a sign of a sincere apology.”
Lawrence receives the contract with excitement, what will the percentage be this time? 10%? Or is the first time free as a promise for future deals?
All his excitement disappears when he sees that the fee was reduced from 30% to only 20%.
Demontre Sagul sees the indifference on his face, so with a smile, he asks: “Would you like an explanation?”
“Yes.”
“Very well, I hope you won’t be offended.”
Calmly he drinks again and then says: “Due to your intrusion, today we have lost too much. No matter how much we offer for your item, the higher-ups will not be satisfied. I could have easily offered you a preferential deal if you had come at another time, but the outcome you demonstrated is the worst.”
This man might be a user of sacred magic, but to retaliate and damage our reputation? Good and evil here are not important, money is above all.
“Ten percent difference is a middle ground. One in which they will not seek reprisals, one in which you can be favored, but that’s it. Beyond this is impossible. What do you think?”
Lawrence nods with a smile. “Twenty percent I consider to be reasonable.”
“Right?”
Emotionless smiles escape their lips, one with which Lawrence signs the contract after seeing that the starting price is enough to cover the refining costs.
A smile that quickly becomes real after hearing his next words.
“The initial offer will be three million gold, the final bid is estimated at five to six million gold. Easily this item can reach those figures, not bad, right? Your refiner will earn a name after this auction.”
He was not wrong to come here.
