Chapter 97: The Auction—The Criminal Evidence Within the Notebook

Chapter 97: Chapter 97: The Auction—The Criminal Evidence Within the Notebook

Not long after, a knock came at the door. The woman who had initially invited them upstairs entered with a tray, setting the items down. Rian Sinclair handed her card to Quentin Sinclair, instructing him to pay.

The woman smiled, bowed, and retreated. Rian looked at the items on the tray, placing them next to the notebook she had bought earlier from the street vendor. Thinking of the person who had bid against her, the suspicion in her mind grew even stronger.

She unwrapped the notebook and opened it. What greeted her eyes were color photographs, one after another. Rian was shaken to her core, her body freezing in place, because these pictures were all—

Color photographs of the Orilon Massacre.

Rian turned page after page, her eyes met with image after image of their atrocities. The man who had bid against her was the exact same man from The Sunken Isles in the kimono she had seen earlier.

At first, she hadn’t understood why he was bidding against her. After all, to anyone else, this book seemed like a useless ledger. Now, she knew.

The Sunken Isles had likely caught wind that evidence of their war crimes would be sold at this auction. These people had come here solely to cover up their past and maintain their sickeningly friendly facade on the international stage.

Rian didn’t know why they had stopped bidding. After all, VIP room privileges didn’t include forcing another party to withdraw.

She looked at the television screen, observing the seated man in the kimono. He had probably received orders from his superiors, but he wasn’t a top government official—just a businessman. Businessmen prioritized profit above all else. Furthermore, in The Sunken Isles, there were definitely those whose patriotism took a backseat to their own interests.

After all, not everyone possessed Veridia’s five thousand years of profound heritage, a true great nation known for its magnanimity and benevolence!

Rian set the notebook down and sealed it securely. Since this was the evidence of their crimes, she would ensure it was returned to Veridia completely intact. She was going to make The Sunken Isles unable to raise their heads before the international community.

Rian had heard her parents speak of this dark period in history when she was very, very young. Back then, her parents hadn’t yet passed away in the car accident. Her family of four was still living happily together. Whenever her parents spoke of this history, they would turn away to secretly wipe their eyes. Though she hadn’t fully understood it back then, Rian was deeply shaken and moved every time she heard it.

After all, over three hundred thousand lives were lost. Under their brutal atrocities, an entire city was nearly wiped out, its people almost entirely slaughtered.

Rian recalled a video she had once watched online. As the Orilon air raid sirens wailed in the background, a teacher asked the students in the classroom, "Class, anyone who considers themselves an Orilon local, please stand up."

Almost everyone stood up. The teacher looked at the children and continued, "If your parents are also from Orilon, remain standing."

At that point, at least half of the students sat down. The teacher looked at those still standing and asked, "If your grandparents are also from Orilon, please remain standing."

This time, not a single student remained standing. The teacher then asked, "Class, do you know why this is?"

The classroom fell into deep thought. That brief series of questions was more profoundly unforgettable than any formal patriotic education.

Rian’s mind was in turmoil. The auction downstairs was still ongoing, but she had no desire to pay attention to it. The images she had just seen were simply too deeply etched into her soul. When it came to this period in history, Veridians had no right to forgive those crimes on behalf of their ancestors.

Quentin sat to the side. He didn’t know what was written in the notebook, but judging by his lady’s heavy expression, he knew that remaining silent was the best response right now.

It was also Venus’s first time sensing such massive emotional fluctuations from his master. He didn’t dare make a sound beside her, nor did he bring up the auction.

After a moment of silence, Rian gently placed the notebook aside and shifted her gaze to the tablet. The auction for the fourth item had just begun.

This lot was a glazed plate. The glaze was smooth and thin, the color a bright and vivid sky-blue, resembling the sky right after a rain shower. However, Rian wasn’t interested in it. Roused by the auctioneer’s words, the people in the hall began to call out bids one after another.

Ultimately, with the drop of the auctioneer’s hammer, the item was purchased by a somewhat wealthy-looking middle-aged woman.

Next up was the fifth item—a fist-sized piece of old-mine ice-glass imperial green jade. As the absolute finest tier of jadeite, it was ultimately won by a blonde middle-aged woman.

Rian didn’t have much interest in jadeite. If she wanted some, she could simply go straight to North Boro to source it. Relying on her X-ray vision to appraise raw stones was far easier than buying them at an auction.

After the sixth item was successfully auctioned off, the tablet in her hand refreshed to display the next lot. It was a sculpture resembling Venus, though it possessed both arms—it wasn’t the famed armless Venus de Milo.

Rian pondered for a few seconds, carefully observing the sculpture.

This was the goddess of love and beauty in the mythology of Ancient Greece, who was also the goddess of sexual desire—Aphrodite, one of the twelve chief deities of Olympus. Because she was born from the sea, she was also sometimes revered as the patron goddess of seafaring.

The auctioneer’s voice then rang out as a large image of the Aphrodite sculpture appeared on the main screen. Venus, standing to the side, also saw it. His gaze froze for a few seconds before he asked in surprise, "Is that Aphrodite?"

His question was soon answered by the auctioneer’s explanation. "This is our seventh lot. As you can all see, it is a sculpture of Aphrodite. This statue holds immense collection value and was put up for auction by a reclusive billionaire. The starting price is 1.5 million US Dollars, and each minimum bid increment is 500,000 US Dollars."

The moment the auctioneer finished speaking, people instantly began to bid. Rian had no interest in the item; she merely propped her chin on her hand and listened to the others raise the price.

In the end, the sculpture was won by someone in the front row for 7.5 million US Dollars.

The eighth auction item quickly followed. Rian looked at the introduction on the tablet with mild surprise. As the auctioneer’s voice echoed, the item was revealed to the crowd.

A massive painting came into everyone’s view, sparking waves of discussion throughout the hall. The auctioneer announced with a beaming smile, "This is Da Vinci’s painting, The Last Supper. It was reproduced in a one-to-one ratio by a mysterious artist. After expert appraisal, this reproduction is valued at ten million US Dollars."

The auctioneer’s voice echoed through the hall, stirring up heated debate. After all, many people loved to collect the masterpieces of history’s greatest artists. Authentic pieces were incredibly difficult to preserve or were securely housed in museums. While genuine works rarely appeared on the market, reproductions were abundant. Naturally, the prices of these reproductions varied based on the accuracy of the imitation.

The starting bid for the oil painting was set at two million US Dollars. As the auctioneer’s words fell, the crowd began shouting out their bids, each one higher than the last.

Rian watched the people in the hall fiercely competing. If the painting was truly as the appraisers claimed, it was indeed worth quite a bit of money.

After all, the original The Last Supper was a mural painted in 1495 on the walls of The Convent of Saint Mary of Grace in Valenza. A truly flawless one-to-one reproduction of such a masterpiece would be absolutely earth-shattering in the art world.