Chapter 689: Bug

Grey watched the three bids climb for a few more seconds before making up his mind. He still had no idea what his blueprint package would ultimately sell for, but in his opinion even one of those designs was worth more than all three Legacies combined, let alone the complete progression path he’d prepared. In fact, his blueprints were probably worth as many Dominion Class Legacies as they could bring together.

So he bid on all of them.

The Last Measure had already climbed past twenty-three thousand Blue Credits, Choirpiercer sat a little above twenty-seven, and the Thousand Door Bulwark had broken thirty thousand first. Grey entered the next automatic increase on each one, then frowned when the walls of his private bubble immediately lit up in pale gold and his name appeared above it for everyone in the auction to see.

—

[GREY TEMOLT — ACTIVE BIDDER]

—

Grey slowly shook his head.

"Zero tolerance for intimidation, huh?"

Apparently announcing to the entire auction hall that one of the Eight Betting Favorites had entered the bidding didn’t count as intimidation, though Grey suspected most people would disagree once the name above a bubble belonged to somebody they were afraid of. That wasn’t what caught the audience’s attention though, as the real surprise came when the same name appeared at the top of all three Legacy listings.

Whispers moved through the private bubbles almost immediately.

Most bidders wouldn’t even consider gambling on several Dominion Class Legacies at once, not when winning still left them facing compatibility afterward and rejection meant paying half the final price anyway. The assumption that Grey had made a mistake became even easier to believe once people remembered the giant screen showing him asleep through most of Breejara’s explanation.

A few laughs started somewhere in the distance, then spread.

Grey Temolt might be dangerous, but he was still from a Cracked World and had spent most of his time inside the Genesis Games learning everything the hard way. Plenty of people already wanted to see him embarrassed after Arc I, so the idea that he had woken up late, seen three powerful weapons and thrown money at them without understanding the rules was far too appealing to ignore.

Then the bidding stopped. Almost everyone dropped out within seconds, leaving Grey’s name sitting alone atop all three lots.

Amunet looked from the displays to Grey with a deepening frown.

"What exactly are you doing?"

Grey glanced toward her.

"You bid on all three."

"I noticed."

"Grey."

He grinned and settled back against the couch. "Hush up and let your sugar daddy go to work."

Amunet stared at him for a moment, then leaned back with a slow shake of her head.

"One day, I’m going to let you destroy yourself just so I can say I watched it happen."

"Make sure you get my good side, and be sure to cry at my funeral so my other wives don’t feel alone."

The countdowns reached zero one after another without another bid appearing, and Breejara’s face expanded across the central display soon afterward. Her smile carried just enough amusement that Grey knew she had come to the same conclusion as everyone else.

"Well, well, well. It seems our sleeping beauty has awakened with expensive tastes."

Laughter moved through the auction hall again while Breejara gestured toward the teleportation platform inside Grey’s private room.

"Grey Temolt, if you would kindly step forward, our three lovely Legacies would like the opportunity to decide whether your confidence is charming or financially catastrophic."

Grey stood and adjusted his suit jacket.

"Be right back."

Sabrina watched him move toward the platform with an expression that was starting to look suspiciously similar to Amunet’s.

"You’re actually doing this?"

Grey looked over his shoulder. "Obviously."

He stepped onto the platform, and the room vanished beneath a flash of light before the central auction stage replaced it. The scale of the hall became much more obvious from down here, thousands of private bubbles layered outward in every direction while some of the larger races occupied platforms spacious enough that Grey could have comfortably fit a building inside them.

Breejara turned toward him with a smile that looked a little too pleased.

"Before our ambitious guest begins, perhaps I should repeat one tiny detail for anyone who may have been... resting during the rules."

More laughter rolled through the hall.

"Winning a Legacy Item does not mean that Legacy belongs to you, darling. Each inheritance still has to acknowledge you, and if it rejects you, fifty percent of your final bid is still due."

She leaned slightly closer.

"So if your plan was to collect all three simply by throwing around money you don’t technically have yet, this would be a wonderful time to reconsider."

Grey studied her for a second, then sighed.

"I’m sorry."

Breejara blinked.

Grey gave her an apologetic look.

"I just can’t drum up the horny to flirt with a bug."

Her smile froze so completely that even the audience seemed to hesitate, several of her eyes narrowing at once while something genuinely murderous flashed beneath the polished host expression. Grey had already stopped paying attention, walking toward The Last Measure while Breejara visibly fought through whatever professional instinct prevented her from stabbing a guest on live broadcast.

He reached for the sword.

The Legacy reacted before his fingers touched the hilt, crimson lines along the blade flaring to life as a sharp metallic hum tore through the stage. Resistance pushed outward in a narrow wave, carrying the clean, direct pressure of the Linear path embedded inside it, and the entire sword began vibrating hard enough that the edges blurred.

The audience immediately came alive.

Grey’s hand stopped just above the grip while the sword’s resistance continued rising, and the laughter returned with even more confidence than before. To everyone watching, the result seemed obvious enough: Grey had misunderstood the auction, bought three Legacies at once, and was already being rejected by the first.

Grey looked down at the weapon for a few seconds.

His expression flattened.

"Shut the fuck up."

The change in his aura came so abruptly that the laughter nearest the stage died first, his presence tightening and sharpening until the lazy man who had been sleeping through the introductions seemed to disappear. The pressure around him settled into something much heavier as Grey’s hand drove down through the resistance and slammed onto the hilt.