The auction floor was a shark tank. Down in the pit, the Auctioneer—a woman with a magically amplified voice—stood under a spotlight.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, we now approach the highlight of the evening."
A velvet cloth was pulled away from a glass display case. Inside, the Hobgoblin Shaman Core pulsed with a rhythmic, blood-red light. It was mesmerizing. The mana radiation was visible even to the naked eye.
"Lot #42. A pristine E-Plus Rank Magic Core," the Auctioneer announced. "Harvested less than six hours ago. No cracks. No impurities. Perfect resonance."
A murmur rippled through the hall. Magic Cores were rare. Most E-Rank monsters were physical types. A Magic Core could be crafted into a high-tier staff or used to power a Guild's barrier generator.
"Bidding starts at 30,000 Credits," the Auctioneer shouted.
"30,000!" A voice rang out instantly from the floor. It was Julian, the Silver Wing heir. He glared up at Booth 3, trying to assert dominance.
Lin looked down from his VIP balcony, unimpressed. "30,000?" Lin whispered. "That doesn't even cover the surgery down payment."
"35,000!" shouted a representative from a weapon manufacturing corp. "40,000!"
The numbers climbed fast. Mouse was gripping the railing, his knuckles white. "40k... that's two years of my shop's revenue..."
"50,000!" Julian yelled again, looking frustrated.
Suddenly, a calm, deep voice echoed from VIP Booth 1. "70,000."
The room went silent. Booth 1 belonged to Apex Dynamics—the mega-corporation that controlled the city's power grid. Julian's face turned pale. He couldn't fight Apex. He sat down, defeated.
Lin narrowed his eyes behind the mask. Apex Dynamics. The same company that was squeezing the Slums dry. "Good," Lin thought. "Bleed them."
"75,000!" A new challenger emerged from Booth 2. It was a heavy-set man wearing the insignia of the Iron Fist Guild. Lin recognized the insignia. It was the Guild Master of the Iron Fists. The boss of Captain Marco. Irony, Lin thought. They are paying me for the loot I got by slipping past their blockade.
"80,000," Apex Dynamics countered lazily.
"85,000," Iron Fist grunted.
"100,000." Apex jumped the bid. A power move.
The crowd gasped. 100,000 Credits. That was enough to buy a small house in the safe zone. Iron Fist hesitated. 100k for an E-Rank material was steep, even for a perfect one. He slammed his fist on the railing and went silent.
"100,000 going once..." the Auctioneer raised her gavel.
Lin tapped the terminal in his booth. He wasn't bidding. He was watching the commission fee calculator. 10% fee. Net profit: 90,000. It was good. But he needed more.
"110,000!" A desperate shout from the floor. It was a representative from the Mage Association. They needed the core for research.
Apex Dynamics didn't hesitate. "120,000."
Silence. Absolute domination.
"Sold! To Apex Dynamics for 120,000 Credits!"
BAM! The gavel struck.
Mouse let out a strangled squeak. "120... thousand..." He looked at Lin like he was looking at a god. "We're rich."
[System Calculation] [Auction Price: 120,000] [Fee (10%): -12,000] [Net Profit: 108,000 Credits]
Lin leaned back in the leather chair. 108,000 Credits. Plus his existing 5,000. Total: 113,000 Credits.
He could pay the 50,000 surgery deposit today. He could buy better gear. He could eat real meat for a year.
But Lin didn't smile. His [Darkvision] picked up heat signatures turning toward his booth. Not admiration. Hostility.
Julian was whispering to his guards, pointing at Lin's booth. Agents from Iron Fist were watching the exit. Even some freelance assassins in the shadows were checking their weapons.
A "Masked Stranger" with 100k cash and no visible Guild backing? He was a walking loot box.
"Mouse," Lin said, standing up abruptly.
"Y-Yeah? We celebrating?"
"No. We're leaving. Now." Lin checked his bone dagger. "Go to the payout counter. Get the money. Then go straight to the back exit."
"Why?"
"Because," Lin said, his voice cold. "The auction is over. The hunt is about to begin."
（"Enjoying the massacre? Drop a Power Stone to feed the Clone Army!"）