Chapter 96: Auction: Bidding War with the Japanese

Chapter 96: Chapter 96: Auction: Bidding War with the Japanese

By observing their complexions, how they interacted with those next to them, and catching snippets of their accents, Rian Sinclair could roughly deduce where everyone in the crowd was from.

There were elegant women from Lumeria, as well as belligerent folks from Ursia—a nation known for wrestling bears for fun.

Rian looked indifferently at a man wearing a black-and-gray kimono. Seeing that appropriated attire, she didn’t even have to guess to know he was from The Sunken Isles. She generally harbored little affection for these people. After all, The Sunken Isles was a nation infamous for stubbornly denying its historical atrocities, breeding an innate sense of disgust in the heart of every Veridian.

After a few seconds, she looked away. The first row filled up quickly. Her own group was seated in the third.

The hall consisted of twenty-four rows, accommodating an audience of roughly two hundred people. Ten minutes later, every seat was taken.

A low murmur buzzed through the hall as the guests conversed, sounding like a flock of chattering sparrows. Rian frowned. The sheer number of different languages assailing her ears caused her brain to short-circuit for a fraction of a second. Though she couldn’t understand every language spoken, she could deduce the gist of their conversations.

A woman stepped onto the center stage. The moment she spoke, the entire hall finally fell silent.

She wore a long, dark green dress, her slightly curled hair pinned up in an elegant updo with a few loose strands framing her face. She exuded poise and grace. Rian’s ears were finally granted a reprieve.

However, her opening remarks had nothing to do with the auction. Feeling a burning gaze fixed upon her, Rian couldn’t help but look up. She found the auctioneer beaming brightly as she announced, "Today, my employer met a very interesting friend. As such, he would like to invite her to take a seat on the second floor."

Rian’s expression cooled as a sense of foreboding washed over her. Two women in formal gowns stepped off the stage and approached her side. "Ms. Sinclair, if you please."

Rian ignored them, but the two women maintained their flawless smiles, gesturing politely for her to follow. On stage, the auctioneer was still looking right at her, beaming. The eyes of everyone in the hall snapped toward Rian, and hushed whispers broke out as they speculated about her identity.

Having no desire to be gawked at like an animal in a zoo, Rian stood up and glanced at Quentin. "Follow me."

Venus was completely dumbfounded. What had he just heard? The boss of The Undercity was inviting his master to the second floor? The second floor was an exclusive VIP area that even the leaders of Meridia couldn’t access! And his master was just going to waltz right up there! As an invited guest, no less!

Venus was in a daze. Staring at his master’s retreating back, he hurriedly scrambled to his feet and chased after them.

The two women led the way. At the staircase entrance, two foreign guards armed with live firearms made no move to stop them; they merely bowed in deep respect. Rian glanced at the rifles slung across their backs but said nothing. Ignoring the probing stares of the crowd on the ground floor, she stepped into the elevator, letting the doors slide shut and severing their line of sight.

Her expression remained frigid. Guided by the escorts, she was led to a suite located directly adjacent to the only illuminated room on the floor. One of the women pushed the heavy double doors open. Rian swept a brief glance over the interior before stepping inside.

She took the seat of honor. The moment she settled in, attendants arrived to lay out an array of refreshments before bowing respectfully and leaving, pulling the heavy doors shut behind them.

Rian picked up the cup of tea beside her and took a sip. When she set it back down, the porcelain clinked loudly against the saucer—a clear display of her displeasure.

She then took a moment to observe the suite’s layout. In the center of the room sat a thirty-six-inch television broadcasting a live feed of the auction below. To the side was a large window offering a bird’s-eye view of the entire hall. A tablet rested on the side table next to her seat, displaying the auction catalog. However, it only revealed the very next item up for bid, keeping the rest of the lots a secret.

As for the identity of the mastermind behind all this, Rian already had her suspicions. Who else could it be but Scott Sutton, that black-hearted capitalist?

But she pushed the thought of him aside for now. After all, the very first lot up for auction was the second notebook the street vendor had mentioned earlier. Rian stared at the "Bid" and "Pass" buttons on the tablet screen. She had to admit, having this much control was quite a pleasant feeling. At the very least, her privacy was completely secure in this room.

The auctioneer’s voice suddenly echoed through the television speakers. "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to tonight’s event. Let us commence with our very first lot of the evening."

An incredibly weathered, leather-bound notebook was placed on the display pedestal, its image simultaneously projected onto the massive screen behind the stage.

"This item was entrusted to us by a mysterious benefactor, who has pledged to donate all proceeds from its sale to charity," the auctioneer announced. "The starting bid is set at one thousand US dollars, with minimum increments of one hundred US dollars. Let the bidding begin!"

The moment the words left her mouth, a voice called out from the floor. "Two thousand US dollars!"

Rian had initially planned to bide her time and observe the crowd before placing a bid. But the moment she heard that bid, her brow furrowed. It was spoken in that grating language from The Sunken Isles.

Without hesitation, she tapped the screen of her tablet. Almost instantly, the auctioneer’s voice rang out again.

"VIP Room Number Two bids three thousand US dollars! Do I hear any higher?"

The rest of the attendees immediately dropped out of the running. The first item of the night was traditionally just a charity lot; as a rule of thumb, it held absolutely zero intrinsic value.

The man from The Sunken Isles called out again. "Four thousand US dollars!"

Rian’s expression remained passive. Normally, she enjoyed a good bidding war, but she had zero patience for playing games with someone she despised. Besides, there was an inexplicable, fatal allure drawing her to this notebook. She was determined to win it!

The auctioneer beamed down at the man on the floor. "VIP Room Number Two has just bid one hundred thousand US dollars! Sir, would you like to raise?"

Everyone in the hall turned their heads to stare at the man who dared to compete against the VIP suite. Gritting his teeth, the man reluctantly raised his bid by another thousand.

While he painstakingly nudged the price up in increments of a thousand, Rian aggressively hiked it up by tens of thousands at a time. As they slowly drove the price higher and higher, Rian’s phone lit up.

"VIP Room Number Two bids four hundred and ninety thousand US dollars and has invoked their VIP Privilege!" the auctioneer announced. "Sir, will you continue to bid?"

A tidal wave of murmurs crashed through the auction hall. While this wasn’t the first time the VIP Privilege had been invoked, historically, the only person to ever use it was the mysterious mastermind behind The Undercity.

The crowd was already burning with curiosity about the strange woman seated in the exclusive suite. Hearing her haphazardly throw out the VIP Privilege, however, drew scattered chuckles from the audience. They thought she was a fool to squander such a rare trump card so casually. After all, the VIP Privilege could only be exercised once per auction. And on the very first lot, no less.

The opening lot was always mere child’s play; the real treasures were reserved for the end of the night. The man who had been bidding against Rian turned to look at his boss seated behind him.

The boss, his face dark and brooding, gave a curt shake of his head. After all, their superiors had merely instructed them to retrieve certain items if possible, not that they were absolutely mandatory. Furthermore, they hadn’t given him any concrete guarantees or unlimited funds, so there was no point in fighting to the bitter end over this. Besides, the woman in the suite had invoked a VIP Privilege. It would be exceedingly unwise to openly disrespect the boss of The Undercity.

The man obediently lowered his bidding paddle. Seeing this, the auctioneer smiled brightly. "Congratulations to VIP Room Number Two for securing our first lot of the evening!"

In truth, Rian hadn’t known a thing about this so-called VIP Privilege beforehand. It was the guy in the suite next door who had messaged her about it, and she had smashed the button without a second thought.

If someone wished to continue bidding against a VIP Privilege, they would be forced to increase their bid by a hundred times the item’s starting price. But as an unspoken rule, no one ever dared to bid once a Privilege was played. It was a sign of respect—giving face to the boss of The Undercity who had established the rule in the first place.