NOVEL NEXT Chapter 116: Banned
As the excitement from the Phantom Crescent Twins began to fade and the next few items rotated through, Damien slouched in his seat. Most of what followed—alchemical reagents, enchanted jewelry, scrolls of rare techniques—was intriguing, but nothing he needed. That was until the lights dimmed subtly, and the next item floated into the display ring.
A short sword.
Slim, elegant, with a faint shimmer in the blade like starlight trapped in obsidian glass. It hovered in its containment field with an unsettling stillness, its presence subtle but wrong in a way that made seasoned warriors sit straighter in their seats.
The auctioneer paused.
"This next item is… unranked. Preliminary analysis labels it B-plus, with mutated death energy. Unknown forging method. Our experts believe it was reforged through anomalous planar fusion—possibly a spatial fracture during its tempering process. We cannot confirm the source. Starting bid: two hundred thousand."
Damien sat upright. His eyes narrowed. That wasn't mutated death energy. That was Time-Space resonance. And death. Just a sliver. But he could feel it, humming beneath the surface like a thread waiting to be pulled.
And no one else in the room knew what it really was.
He leaned over to Sheila. "Loan me a million."
She blinked. "Excuse me?"
"I'll pay you back within a month."
She studied his face. "Why do I feel like I'm about to fund a disaster?"
Damien smiled faintly. "Because you are. The good kind."
Sheila sighed, then passed a card under the table. "If you die, I'm collecting your corpse and selling your bones for mana powder."
"Fair."
The auctioneer called again. "Opening at two hundred thousand!"
Damien raised his hand.
"Two hundred!"
Qian Yuze, still fuming from earlier, immediately stood. "Two-fifty."
The crowd murmured.
Damien didn't even look at him. "Three hundred."
"Three-fifty!" Qian barked.
The auctioneer's eyes gleamed. "Three-fifty to the young master!"
Qian Yuze smirked at the crowd. "This blade will serve well when I'm fighting for the nation against the European dogs. Surely no one would interfere with such righteous intent?"
It was a thinly veiled call for support. One of the nobles laughed awkwardly and raised a glass.
"Patriotic, this one."
But Damien simply lifted his hand again. "Four hundred."
The smile froze on Qian Yuze's face.
"Four-fifty!"
"Five hundred," Damien said calmly.
The murmurs thickened.
"Young master, he's baiting you," whispered one of Qian's guards.
"Six-fifty," Qian snapped.
"Seven."
The auctioneer was now almost gleeful. "Seven hundred to Number 227!"
Qian Yuze's lip curled.
He stood.
"You think this is funny?" Qian Yuze shouted, voice ringing across the hall. "You don't know who I am, do you?"
The auctioneer raised a brow, calm but sharp. "Please keep all disputes civil—"
"I'm the son of Colonel Qian Jian and Lady Tang of the Silver Phoenix Bank," Qian growled, throwing out his chest. "And you, peasant, are going to regret crossing me. After this auction, I'll find out where you live… and bury you there."
The room dropped into stunned silence.
A glass clinked loudly in the background as someone set their drink down in disbelief.
"…Did he just—?"
"Wait, wait, did that brat actually make a death threat?"
A woman in black robes muttered, "Is he insane? This is the Imperial Serpent Auction House."
"Who makes a threat like that here?" someone else whispered. "Doesn't he know the Serpent House is backed by the Central Treasury and the Warden's Guild?"
"What a little dumbass." muttered a man in gold-trimmed armor, shaking his head. "His parents must be proud."
Up at the front, the auctioneer's pleasant expression didn't change. But he raised one finger and tapped it gently on the podium.
A faint bell rang.
From opposite sides of the auction hall, four guards moved as one. Not ordinary guards. They wore black-scale cloaks lined with starlight thread, faces covered in enchanted silver masks.
S-Rank.
The kind who didn't need introductions. Or warnings.
Qian Yuze paled for half a heartbeat—then flushed with rage.
"You can't do this to me! Do you know who I am?!"
"We do." one of the masked guards said simply.
"You're a customer." said another. "Now a banned one."
"You bastards think this will go unpunished?!" Qian shouted as they closed in. "You dare to touch me?! My father—!"
"Will receive a formal explanation." said the lead guard.
"And a bill for magical property damage if you resist." added the second.
They each grabbed an arm.
"Let me go! You think you're safe? You're all dead! You hear me? ALL OF YOU!" he bellowed, thrashing violently as they dragged him from the velvet-lined floor.
"Unhand me!" Qian shouted, struggling as the crowd parted.
"You are hereby banned from this premises for ten years." the lead guard added. "Attempt to return, and we will enforce the ban with extreme prejudice."
The doors slammed shut behind him moments later.
The auctioneer cleared his throat with a polite smile. "Apologies for the disruption. As a reminder to all esteemed guests: the Imperial Serpent Auction House maintains a zero-tolerance policy for threats, bullying, or disruption of fair bidding. Our guardians are empowered to act without delay."
He smiled brighter, not a trace of malice on his face.
"Now then. Where were we?"
"Eight hundred." came a crisp voice. Zhao Xianyu.
"Eight-fifty." said Lian Yue.
A pause. Then Mr. Crow lifted a hand without a word. "Nine hundred."
All eyes turned to Damien.
He looked relaxed. Peaceful.
"One million."
Gasps. Even Mr. Crow's eyes narrowed ever so slightly.
"Going once."
Zhao Xianyu smiled faintly and leaned back. "Out."
Lian Yue sipped her tea, amused. "I like a man who doesn't blink."
Mr. Crow didn't raise his hand again. He just watched.
"Going twice."
A long breath passed.
"Sold!"
Cheers erupted. A few loud, respectful claps. Others simply watched Damien in quiet awe.
The auction house attendant handed Damien the transfer notice with a bow.
She leaned in. "Please take care, sir. That one… is very dangerous."
Damien smiled calmly. "Good thing I don't scare easily."