"Alright, I didn't take that matter to heart in the slightest, so you don't need to worry about it either."

Muen Campbell helped the gaudily dressed woman up and brushed her slightly messy hair behind her ear.

Despite the heavy makeup, Muen could tell that the woman wasn’t very old—at most in her early twenties, the prime of youth.

"When you're out in the world, don't degrade yourself like this."

"But..."

The garish woman still seemed hesitant.

In the black market, beyond the glow of the Empire's radiance, someone as weak as her only survived by doing exactly this.

To expect {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} kindness without reason was to court disaster—just like those “seniors” of hers who had suddenly vanished.

"Does sir find this lacking? I... I’m pretty open-minded. If sir has any other requests or tastes, I can do those too.

In fact, I can even—"

"Enough."

Muen frowned and sharply cut off her attempt to sell herself.

"I don’t need it."

"Then..."

The woman’s face turned pale. She thought Muen was refusing to forgive her. Clutching at the hem of her skirt, she stood frozen in uncertainty.

"Sigh."

Seeing her like that, Muen knew outright rejection would only backfire, so he sighed helplessly and said:

"Fine. Since you're so insistent on doing something, then I suppose I’ll just..."

...

"Sir, does that feel good?"

"Ah, yeah, that feels good. Mm, right there..."

As the gaudy woman served him, Muen couldn't help but let out a pleased moan.

"Yes, yes, just a bit more to the left, harder—mm, that’s it. Feels amazing. Your technique is superb."

"Sir flatters me. After all, I do this sort of thing pretty often."

The woman smiled seductively... and then blanked out a little.

She hadn’t expected that what this man had asked her to do... was just to massage his shoulders and back.

"Sir, are you really satisfied with just this? I mean, shoulder rubs like these are technically already included in the base service," the woman said anxiously. She was massaging him very seriously—even though her hands were sore, she didn’t dare let up for a second.

"That’s enough. Things got a bit too wild last night—my back’s sore. You being good at this really is a blessing."

Muen stood up and motioned for her to stop.

He stretched with satisfaction. His body truly did feel much lighter now.

"Alright. You can go for now. The auction’s about to start."

"Yes, sir."

The garish woman nodded obediently.

She knew that during an auction, it was easy to brush against sensitive matters, so most guests preferred not to have anyone else around.

Their job was only to help clients kill time before the auction began.

"If you need anything, just call for me."

She bowed politely and turned to leave—but just as she was about to step out, Muen called out to her.

"Wait. Take this."

"This is...?"

The woman stared, a little stunned, at the heavy envelope Muen tossed to her.

"It’s a tip."

"A tip? This much?"

Muen didn’t look back, propping his chin in his hand as he gazed out the window.

At that moment, the entire hall dimmed. A spotlight snapped on, shining down on the center.

The curtain rose.

Everything fell silent. That small auction stage seemed to become the very center of the world.

The darkness around it only seemed to grow deeper and more profound.

Amid the thick, mist-like shadows, Muen stared at the spotlight as if speaking to himself:

"A beautiful girl staying too long in the dark... her skin will start to darken too. But I still prefer them a bit paler."

"...Sir."

The garish woman stared blankly at Muen’s back. Her eyes welled up faintly. She took a deep breath and bowed deeply.

"...Thank you, sir. I’ll try my best."

She clutched the weighty envelope like it was a lifeline.

...

...

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to tonight’s secret auction. I’ll be your host. You may call me... Miss Pixie."

In the spotlight, a voluptuous woman in a flesh-colored diamond-studded gown slowly rose from beneath the platform. Her figure was devilishly curvy, and the tight dress traced every provocative arc. The plunging V-neck revealed nearly half of her ample curves.

With an alluring voice full of seduction, Miss Pixie brushed her fingers lightly across her chest, instantly igniting the entire auction hall’s atmosphere.

"Heh, the usual auction gimmick, huh?"

Muen lay sideways on the sofa in a comfortable position, eyes as pure as if admiring a piece of art. Not even the slightest ripple stirred in him.

The frenzy from last night hadn’t fully faded—he was still in full sage mode. No matter how beautiful the woman, she couldn't provoke even a twitch of interest.

After all, Miss Pixie could never compare to the real little pixie.

Right now, he was nothing more than a heartless auction machine. If it wasn’t the Ancient Dragon’s Lifeblood, he wasn’t interested.

"Enough chit-chat. Let’s take a look at the first item of the evening."

After telling a few lewd jokes and showing off her curves to the point that some guests nearly had nosebleeds, Miss Pixie finally got down to business.

With a graceful wave of her hand, a scantily clad young girl stepped forward carrying a tray draped in red cloth.

Since it was only the first item, she didn’t keep up the suspense for long. After tossing a few flirtatious glances at the audience, she pulled off the red cloth.

A pink teardrop-shaped gem appeared before everyone’s eyes.

"A gemstone—Tear of True Love!"

As her sultry voice echoed outward, Miss Pixie lifted the gold-inlaid box with her slender fingers and walked a circle around the stage. The spotlight gathered on the gem, making it glitter brilliantly.

A special projection spell displayed the gem’s image on a massive screen so every audience member could view it in high detail from all angles.

Tear of True Love?

Muen bolted upright from the sofa, eyes wide as he stared at the pink gemstone.

What were the odds? Someone had just tried to scam him with a fake not long ago, and now a real one showed up?

"The Tear of True Love—a gemstone symbolizing pure romantic affection. It’s said that giving this gem to the one you adore will win their heart..."

"Beyond its symbolic meaning, the gem itself is of top-tier quality. The teardrop shape has no signs of human carving—completely natural..."

After five full minutes of elaborate praise, Miss Pixie finally named the starting bid.

"Opening price—one hundred thousand!"

One hundred thousand?

Muen blinked again, surprised.

That was a steal—even a clearance sale wouldn’t be this cheap. Back when the Tear of True Love was all the rage among nobles, there was a nobleman who offered ten million Emirs for it, just to please his mistress.

Was this some kind of unusual marketing tactic?

Muen scanned the room, only to find that the atmosphere wasn’t as heated as he’d expected.

Only a few disinterested voices made bids. After quite a while, the price crawled up to just three hundred thousand.

"What the hell..."

Muen scratched his chin—and suddenly it clicked.

This wasn’t a proper auction. It was a black market auction.

Most of the attendees here were desperate types from the lower city, living every day on the edge of a blade.

To them, a magic scroll that could blow up an entire bloodline, or an alchemical weapon that could cleave through enemies like tofu, was far more valuable than some overpriced shiny rock with no practical use.

This was a fantasy world, after all. A gemstone that couldn’t even shoot a laser beam was basically worthless—unless you were a rich noble looking to woo a woman.

Naturally, Muen wasn’t about to play the sucker. His estate had gems for days. Why waste money on this one? He had jewels the size of goose eggs that could even transform.

"Huh? Wait a sec."

Just as Muen was about to lean back and wait for the Ancient Dragon’s Lifeblood, a flash of inspiration struck him.

"I think... Senior Anna really liked the Tear of True Love, didn’t she?"

Back when they were out together, even knowing it was 99% likely to be fake, she still couldn’t resist checking it out when that hunchbacked old man started shouting about it.

That was one of the rare times Senior Anna ever showed interest in something in front of him!

"So if I give this to her, she’ll definitely be happy!"

Muen’s eyes lit up. All those thoughts about brainless nobles wasting money just to chase women were instantly thrown aside.

He made up his mind—he was going to win the Tear of True Love!

...

...

"Listen, Ariel."

"The key to dominating an auction and remaining undefeated... is discretion."

"Every bid mustn’t raise the price too much above the previous one. But you can’t bid too little either, or people will start to get suspicious."

"The bid needs to show just enough interest—like you're tempted—but not so much that it reveals the item's real worth."

"Remember: stay quiet, make a fortune."

In the general seating area, Ariel was wrapped tightly in a black cloak designed to conceal her presence. With her eyes closed, she listened intently to her Master’s voice in her head.

It was like she was absorbing the wisdom of those who came before, burning it into her soul. Suddenly, she opened her eyes—and in that clear gaze, a lightning-like brilliance flashed.

She raised her number card. Right after someone offered three hundred thousand even, she shouted the next bid:

"Three hundred thousand... and one thousand!"

"Tch."

The man who had bid three hundred thousand clicked his tongue and gave up.

Seeing that, Ariel’s lips curled into a habitual, cocky smirk.

"Don’t lower your guard. It’s not over yet."

"Three hundred thousand... and two thousand!"

The warning had just ended when another voice called out from the opposite corner, holding up paddle number fifty. Like Ariel, they only added a measly thousand to the previous bid.

Ariel narrowed her eyes and looked over.

The other bidder was also wrapped in a black cloak—but through the loose fabric, Ariel could still make out the stunning curve of a generous bust.

At that, Ariel immediately puffed up her chest in pride.

Hmph. So unprofessional.

With a chest like that, anyone can tell you’re a woman at a glance.

Look at me—draped in this cloak, who could ever tell if I’m male or female?

In a place like the black market, you couldn’t afford to show the slightest vulnerability. One tiny slip-up could cost you everything.

Those were lessons written in blood.

Even so, Ariel didn’t underestimate her opponent.

That woman’s bidding tactics made it clear—she was a seasoned auction player too.

And more importantly, she might’ve realized, just like Master, that the Tear of True Love wasn’t as simple as it looked!

"You don’t need to worry too much about that."

Her Master’s voice echoed again in her mind.

"The Tear of True Love may contain some kind of special ability. Even I only have a faint suspicion—it’s not something I can confirm. I highly doubt anyone here has the eyes to notice it, not for another hundred years at least. If it were that obvious, they’d never have let it end up here for you to snag."

"That person probably just wants to buy it and resell it to some noble for a quick profit."

"Then I can rest easy!"

Ariel nodded and raised her paddle again.

"Three hundred thousand... and three thousand."

"Three hundred thousand... and four thousand."

"Three hundred thousand... and five thousand."

"Three hundred thousand..."

Only Ariel’s number thirty-eight and that mysterious woman’s number fifty remained. Their voices echoed one after another in a standoff, locked in a tug-of-war.

But despite all the back-and-forth, the price crept upward like a snail—barely inching past three hundred thousand.

Even Miss Pixie looked exasperated. She’d hosted countless auctions before, but never seen bidding as stingy and drawn out as this—like two old grannies haggling over vegetables. The other attendees were growing restless and began to boo.

Ariel didn’t care at all.

Number fifty was clearly starting to hesitate. If she just held firm, victory would be hers!

To get a gemstone with hidden mysteries for just a few hundred thousand? That wasn’t just a good deal—it was a once-in-a-lifetime haul!

The thought alone made Ariel’s eyes mist with emotion.

Think of what she’d been through lately.

The black market had been shut down, ancient magic studies cost a fortune, and she’d been forced to tighten her belt just to scrape by. Her weekly food budget had dropped to a pitiful two hundred Emirs!

Two hundred! She used to not even bend down to pick that up off the street!

And worse—she’d lost those two hundred Emirs twice in a row!

All because of that damn Muen Campbell!

She’d been eating black bread for ten straight days—her chest had almost shrunk!

Thankfully, the black market reopened just in time.

She’d liquidated two months’ worth of ancient magic scrolls and alchemical tools refined with her Master’s help. On the black market, those rare goods sold out in a flash.

Supply always lagged behind demand—and ancient magic gear had far better quality than anything on the market. Naturally, she’d made a killing.

With cash in hand, of course she came to the auction looking for treasure.

Sure, she’d gotten scammed out of a few coins by some flyer-waving hag before arriving—but so what? As long as she got the Tear of True Love, all that injustice would be worth it!

"Three hundred fifty-two thousand!"

...

Her persistence paid off.

With firm resolve in her voice, Ariel called out the number—and the mysterious number fifty finally backed down, saying nothing more.

It seemed like the battle was over.

"Three hundred fifty-two thousand, going once."

"Three hundred fifty-two thousand, going twice."

Miss Pixie hammered away quickly. She didn’t care about squeezing out a few extra tens of thousands anymore—she just wanted to wrap this up before the mood fell completely flat.

As the hammer neared its final strike, Ariel clenched her fists tight, holding her breath, eyes burning with anticipation.

Once this deal closed, she wouldn’t just be eating drumsticks every meal—she could feast on entire roast chickens if she wanted!

Hmph! Damn you, Muen Campbell! Let’s see you ruin this for me now!

"Three hundred fifty-two thousand, going thir—"

"Eighty-eight. Five hundred thousand."

Just as the final hammer was about to fall, a cold, low voice echoed through the auction hall—broadcast from a VIP box via magically enhanced speakers.

The voice was deep, husky, clearly altered—but it carried a noble’s arrogance and a tycoon’s swagger. Ariel felt like she’d been hit by a hammer herself—her vision went black for a moment.

"Fi... five hundred thousand?"

She nearly choked on the air.

"That number eighty-eight is insane! Raising the bid by over a hundred thousand in one go?"

"Five hundred thousand! Number eighty-eight bids five hundred thousand!"

Miss Pixie was stunned too, then her expression lit up with excitement.

She turned toward the veiled VIP box of number eighty-eight, her eyes gleaming.

Now this—this was what an auction was supposed to look like!

All that penny-pinching crap? They could take it back to the street market and haggle with grandmas.

"Five hundred thousand! Anyone else?"

"I... five hundred thousand... and one thousand!"

Ariel’s eyes burned red. She practically ground her silver teeth to dust as she squeezed out the words.

It’s fine. Five hundred thousand was still worth it—it just went from a huge win to a solid profit.

"Six hundred thousand."

But that voice came again—light, casual. As if it weren’t six hundred thousand Emirs, but sixty sheets of toilet paper.

"Six hundred thousand... and one thousand." Ariel’s face twisted.

"Seven hundred thousand."

"Seven hundred thousand... and one thousand." Ariel’s expression contorted.

"Eight hundred thousand."

"Eight hundred thousand! And one thousand!"

Ariel was losing it.

You can’t just keep bidding like this forever! I don’t believe you’re really willing to waste this much!

Come on!

Keep going!

The Tear of True Love is just a shiny rock to you! I don’t believe you'd actually blow nearly a million on a dumb stone!

"Ugh. So annoying."

Then came the sigh from box eighty-eight:

"Let’s just round it up to one million."

One million!

The entire auction house erupted.

Even Miss Pixie—who had presided over countless auctions—was momentarily stunned.

This wasn’t one of those aristocrat art auctions where a single painting could sell for over a hundred million.

To most of the people here, one million Emirs was their entire fortune.

Yet someone just dropped that amount—for a normal gemstone?

Sure, some people had heard of the Tear of True Love back when it was trendy, but now? Without any real utility, it was just a marketing relic. If you tried to sell it to a noble for millions today, they’d spit on you and call you a **!

"O... one million? No way..."

Ariel slumped back in her chair, clutching her chest, panting for breath.

"Hah...

Haha...

It’s just a measly million! Help me up, I can still—"

"No, Ariel!"

Even her Master couldn’t stay calm anymore.

"Give it up! We don’t have that kind of money! There’ll be better stuff later—you don’t have to die on this hill."

"Sell! Let’s sell more! We’ll get the cash!"

"We’ve got nothing left to sell! If you want to keep going, we’d have to sell..."

He paused.

"We’d have to sell your Heavenly Fire Greatsword. Are you really willing to do that?"

"But..."

Ariel stared at that gem, her face twisted with unwillingness.

She had been so close to scoring the jackpot, to eating roast chicken every day. And now it was slipping through her fingers?

"Damn it!"

No matter how unwilling she was—no money meant no bid.

When Miss Pixie brought down the hammer for the third and final time, Ariel could only look up in sorrow at the hidden box of number eighty-eight.

The one-way black glass concealed everything inside—but just staring at it, Ariel felt a fire ignite in her chest.

"Who the hell are you?

And why does this infuriating feeling... feel so familiar?"

...

...

"Was that... too much?"

Inside the VIP box, Muen, who had just blown a cool million, was now drowning in guilt.

Sure, for the Ducal Estate, a million wasn’t much. But spending that on a gift for a girl—it really did sound like the kind of thing some lust-driven playboy noble would do.

"No! I’m not like that. I’m not trying to hit on Senior Anna. I just want to repay her for everything."

"Her month of patient teaching is worth far more than a measly million. You can’t even put a price on it!"

Muen reassured himself—and soon recovered from the guilt.

Look at all those snake spirits, bird spirits, and fox spirits—repaying kindness is a universal excuse!

...

The auction continued.

But none of the remaining items sparked Muen’s interest.

Most of it was the kind of contraband you couldn’t sell openly on the market.

Like pills that could temporarily boost strength by 50%, but left you impotent.

Or scrolls with enough power to blow up an entire plaza—but could only be detonated manually.

Weird stuff, but they sold like hotcakes. The bidding even got so heated that some people nearly came to blows.

What did surprise Muen was that tucked among the lots were fifteen military-grade enchanted crossbows and ten sets of third-generation magitech armor.

"That stuff... if the nobles catch you with it, they’ll call it treason. Yet it’s circulating in the black market? Don’t tell me the black market has military ties too?"

If that was true, then this so-called black market big shot must be someone really special.

Muen stroked his chin and kept observing.

Then he noticed something.

The men who bought those crossbows and magitech suits were quietly slipping out of the auction hall. Moments later, others followed them—clearly not part of the same group.

"This is...?"

Muen’s brow lifted slightly. He seemed to recall something. Reaching over, he picked up the bronze bell resting on the corner of the table and gave it a ring.

The heavily made-up woman from before entered promptly and bowed.

"Sir, you called?"

"Does your auction house guarantee the guests’ personal safety?" Muen asked.

"Of course. As long as they remain inside, we’ll absolutely protect them."

"Inside, huh?"

Muen understood—and smiled faintly.

"Can you do me a favor?"

"A favor?"

The woman blinked, then nodded firmly.

"Please say the word."

"Go to the front entrance of the auction house."

"The entrance... and then?"

"Then just stay there."

Muen said:

"Do whatever you normally do there. Just keep an eye on which direction those who leave early are heading. Don’t do anything else."