The Calm After the Hammer Falls

"Hello, could the staff please handle this uncivilized person who is personally attacking me?"

Julian D’Aurelius raised his hand and called out without the slightest hint of urgency, his tone almost playful—like a student casually reporting a classmate rather than confronting a man ready to tear his throat out.

The contrast was jarring.

Around them, the air felt like glass stretched too tight—one more push and it would shatter.

Lucas heard it.

And something inside him snapped.

Lucas heard his leg almost tilt forward as if his body itself wanted to lunge—muscles coiling, instincts screaming—but he held himself back by sheer force. A thick vein bulged across his forehead, pulsing violently, his anger no longer something hidden—it was alive, crawling across his skin.

He let out a slow, heavy breath through clenched teeth.

"Julian..." he said quietly, voice low and trembling with restrained fury. "Do you really think hiding behind staff will save you?"

Julian didn’t even look at him at first.

He casually adjusted his sleeve, brushed an invisible speck of dust from his cuff, then turned his head slightly—just enough to meet Lucas’s gaze.

A faint smile touched his lips.

"Save me?" Julian echoed, almost amused. "From what?"

He tilted his head a little, golden eyes calm, unshaken.

"You shouting in public?"

A few people nearby quickly looked away, pretending not to hear—but their ears strained anyway.

Lucas’s fingers twitched.

"You’re playing a dangerous game," he muttered.

Julian shrugged lightly.

"You’re overestimating yourself," he replied, voice steady, effortless. "This is an auction. Not your backyard."

Before Lucas could respond further, the staff had already moved in.

The staff looked awkward and approached Lucas.

They had seen this type before—wealthy, powerful, volatile. The kind who could either make your year or ruin your life in a single moment.

But rules were rules.

And more importantly... this wasn’t a normal guest.

This was Young Master D’Aurelius sitting right there.

"Sir, please mind your manners. Personal attacks are not allowed at the auction."

Their tone was polite, but firm enough to draw a line.

Lucas’s face turned livid as he snorted coldly, making a throat-slitting gesture towards Julian.

It wasn’t subtle.

It wasn’t hidden.

It was a promise.

Julian saw it.

And smiled.

Not mocking.

Not afraid.

Just... entertained.

That smile—more than anything—made Lucas’s blood boil.

The item had already been auctioned off.

This kid wouldn’t last more than another Chapter!

That thought repeated in his mind like a drumbeat.

He was eager to take revenge on Julian!

Not later.

Not eventually.

Now.

So he got up and left his seat, asking the staff to take him to pay.

His steps were sharp, decisive, his coat swaying slightly behind him like a shadow that refused to settle.

According to the auction rules, once the payment was made, he could take the item.

And once he had it—

Everything would change.

He wanted to consume the Nine way cleansing exilir immediately and break through on the spot to kill this kid!

The thought alone made his pulse quicken.

Hearing that he was going to pay, the staff quickly and happily led this wealthy patron to the VIP lounge to wait.

Ten billion.

The number echoed in their minds like a golden bell.

Ten billion, this had already broken the auction’s historical record.

Although this esteemed guest was a bit crude, earning a three hundred million commission in a short time left them with nothing to complain about.

Money smooths everything.

Even bad manners.

Even threats.

Even murder, if it came to that.

Back in the main hall—

Julian leaned back in his seat again, as if nothing had happened.

He popped another pistachio into his mouth, chewing slowly, eyes half-lidded.

(What a temper.)

(These "chosen ones" really can’t take a joke.)

He exhaled softly, gaze drifting toward the direction Lucas had left.

(Go ahead. Eat it.)

A faint, almost imperceptible curve formed at the corner of his lips.

(You’re going to love it.)

Not far away, Yana Tyson sat frozen.

Her fingers tightened slightly against her lap.

She had seen that look in Lucas’s eyes.

And she had seen Julian’s smile.

One burned.

The other... calculated.

Her throat felt a little dry.

Something about this whole situation—

Didn’t feel right.

Meanwhile—

Following the staff to the back, Lucas entered the VIP lounge.

The space was quiet, insulated from the noise of the auction hall. Soft lighting, polished floors, a faint scent of incense lingering in the air.

Calm.

Too calm.

It only made the storm inside him feel louder.

He took out his card to make the payment.

According to the typical feel-good novel setup, even large transactions would only take a few minutes.

And just like that—

The process was smooth.

Effortless.

No hesitation.

No delay.

So in a few minutes, the ten billion was transferred to the auction’s company account.

The confirmation beep sounded.

Cold.

Final.

Lucas didn’t even blink.

Money was nothing.

Power was everything.

"Dear guest, this is our auction’s platinum membership card. You are now a top VIP at Auction house."

After receiving the money, the staff immediately handed Lucas an exquisite membership card.

It gleamed under the soft light—golden edges, intricate engraving, a symbol of status.

Lucas accepted the card with a dark face, not feeling he had gained any advantage.

He glanced at it once.

Then tossed it casually onto the table beside him.

Fing hell, what a loss.

Ten billion.

Even for him—

That wasn’t nothing.

And yet, the anger burned stronger than the regret.

"Hurry up and give me the item."

He urged impatiently.

His voice had lost its earlier charm.

Now it was sharp.

Demanding.

"Yes, Mr. Lucas."

The staff immediately had the lion Gem statue carefully delivered to him.

Two people carried it together, movements slow, cautious—as if they were handling something fragile enough to shatter at a glance.

Once the item was in Lucas’s hands, the staff breathed a sigh of relief.

This was a hot potato worth ten billion.

If it accidentally broke in their hands, who could bear the responsibility?

Lucas held it.

The weight settled into his palms.

Cold.

Solid.

Real.

His eyes flickered with anticipation.

Finally.

Everything he had endured—

Every humiliation.

Every setback.

All of it would end here.

"Mr. Lucas, if there’s nothing else, we’ll leave now. If you need our delivery service, just let us know."