The Most Satisfied Reincarnate

Desmond remained seated in his room, his attention fixed on the door when, unexpectedly, it swung open. A maid entered, carrying an assortment of plates, glasses, and an array of beverages, including wine and fresh oranges.

"Good day, young master. I apologize for the intrusion. I have brought you some refreshments," the maid greeted him, her voice infused with a hint of seductive allure.

Her provocative attire, accentuated by a strong perfume, could easily captivate the attention of any man. Yet, despite her efforts, Desmond appeared disinterested, his gaze steadfastly focused on the VIP room opposite his own.

Undeterred by his lack of response, the maid approached Desmond, positioning herself by his side, a coy smile still adorning her face.

"Would you care for a drink, sir?" she inquired, her voice dripping with allure, but Desmond paid her no heed, his attention fixed on the enigmatic room across from his.

"Wine," Desmond curtly replied, his gaze remaining fixed as he directed his request. His focus seemed unwavering, lost in contemplation, as if seeking a familiar face amidst the masked attendees.

Gibson? Desmond wondered, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his thoughts. The image of Gibson, with his distinct round physique, still lingered in his memory.

However, amidst the sea of masked faces populating the auction, he couldn't be certain if the person he spotted was truly his acquaintance.

Perhaps not... Desmond mused, his doubts gaining strength as he dismissed the fleeting possibility.

Meanwhile, the figure Desmond had caught sight of also observed him with curiosity, their thoughts echoing with recognition.

Desmond... they pondered, recognizing the young man across the room, his hand adorned with a mask.

Eager to confirm their suspicion, they turned to the maid standing beside them, seeking her assistance.

"Maid, can you ascertain the identity of the individual in the room opposite ours?" the figure inquired, their voice laced with anticipation.

"I apologize, young master, but the VIP room is specifically designed to protect the anonymity of its occupants. However, if you wish, we can attempt to gather information from the non-VIP attendees below," the maid explained, her response tinged with regret.

The figure's expression soured, their gaze drifting downwards towards the crowd, ultimately shaking their head in disappointment.

"Forget it. When will this auction commence?" they demanded, their impatience palpable.

Almost as if in response to their inquiry, all the candles in the room abruptly extinguished, plunging the space into darkness. The only sources of illumination were the candles adorning the stage and within the VIP rooms.

"Welcome, everyone, to tonight's auction. We have the pleasure of hosting six special guests. Please extend your warmest greetings to them," the presenter's voice resonated magically, its amplified timbre reverberating throughout the venue.

Applause erupted, muffled beneath the masks that adorned nearly every face in the room, including the enigmatic presenter.

"Alright, let's begin. First and foremost," the presenter announced, their voice carrying a tinge of anticipation as they unveiled the items up for auction.

The room buzzed with energy as enthusiastic bids filled the air, igniting an atmosphere brimming with excitement.

The auction floor came alive with spirited exchanges, with participants eagerly vying for their desired items. However, amidst the fervor, a single VIP room remained conspicuously silent, refraining from partaking in the bidding frenzy.

Meanwhile, Desmond sat passively, his gaze drifting aimlessly over the proceedings. His presence at the auction was driven solely by his singular objective: to acquire the elusive elf.

Consequently, the other items on display, such as memory booster drinks and swords boasting enhanced damage, held no allure for him.

Observing Desmond's disinterest, the maid by his side grew increasingly anxious. From the beginning until the midpoint of the auction, she keenly noted the young master's lack of engagement or curiosity regarding the showcased items.

While she hesitated to disturb a VIP like Desmond, her desire to secure a bonus from the sale of a valuable item gnawed at her.

As time stretched on, and news of the elf's impending auction failed to reach Desmond's ears, impatience coursed through his veins, causing his fingers and feet to tap restlessly.

"Could it be that my maid booked the wrong day?" he mused, his thoughts consumed by doubt.

Only in the capital's grand auction house could such opulence and exclusivity be found, with daily auctions boasting the finest goods from the North Kingdom.

Here, items would be meticulously sorted and showcased, catering to the discerning tastes of the elite.

The maid, noticing Desmond's growing restlessness, sensed that the young master was anticipating something.

Summoning her courage, she approached him and delicately inquired, "I apologize, young master. Is there anything I can assist you with?"

Caught off guard, Desmond looked up, only to find himself confronted by two imposing mounds—the maid before him, her visage adorned with heavy makeup, large purple eyes shimmering, and her flowing hair framing a seductive smile.

Caught in the perfume's intoxicating embrace, Desmond shifted uncomfortably in his seat, causing the maid to instinctively take a step back.

"Um... yes. Is it true that an elf will be auctioned today?" Desmond queried, his curiosity piqued.

Eyes sparkling with excitement, the maid responded eagerly, "Yes, young master. However, it will only be presented towards the end of the auction."

Thrilled at the prospect of assisting Desmond in acquiring such a prized and extravagant item, the maid eagerly awaited his next words, hoping for the chance to secure a substantial commission.

"I see," Desmond murmured to himself, pondering the information he had received.

Deciding to take advantage of the waiting period, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to enter a state of meditation, seeking inner calm amidst the bustling ambiance of the auction hall.

"Wake me up when it's time for the elf," Desmond said.

Upon hearing Desmond's instruction to wake him when the time for the elf auction arrived, the maid nodded affirmatively, her heart fluttering with a mix of anticipation and desire.

As she observed Desmond, his eyes peacefully closed, she couldn't help but find him even more attractive, with only his lips visible to her gaze.

Her desires swirled within, tempting her to cross professional boundaries, yet she wrestled with the potential consequences, wondering if her actions would lead to her dismissal from the kingdom.

"Hahaha, at worst, I'll be banished from this realm," she thought wryly, a self-awareness of her conflicting desires mingling with the caution that still held her back.

Despite her inner turmoil, her gaze involuntarily lingered on Desmond's captivating face and lips, appreciating his undeniable charm.

Meanwhile, in the adjacent VIP room, the rotund man was actively engaging his maid, instructing her to bid on every item that crossed the auction stage.

With each declaration of "100 gold coins," he silenced any potential competition, thwarting the aspirations of other bidders.

"Hey pig, you're living up to your reputation—greedy! This item is nothing more than ordinary. Why are you driving up the bidding so high?" an angry voice pierced through the crowd, expressing frustration and disappointment.

The speaker had scrimped and saved for days, aiming to acquire the item being contested.

"Fucking pig, your greed knows no bounds," chimed in another disgruntled voice, echoing the sentiment of many in the room. The majority of attendees were long-serving soldiers, accustomed to sacrificing for the kingdom.

For these auction participants, 100 gold coins represented a significant sum—equivalent to a month's wages or more. While some hesitated to part with their hard-earned money, the allure of the item tempted them to test their limits.

"Just bid if you want it," the rotund man retorted with a mocking tone and a smirk adorning his face, reveling in the discomfort he had caused.

"You despicable pig! May misfortune befall your family," one patron spat venomously, his words laced with deep-seated resentment.

"Useless sack of meat," sneered another, joining in the chorus of disdain directed at the rotund man.

Many in the room seized the opportunity to voice their disdain, emboldened by the anonymity provided by their masks. They believed that concealing their identities shielded them from potential repercussions, enabling them to express their true sentiments without fear.

As tensions simmered and the atmosphere grew increasingly volatile, the presenter intervened, resuming control over the situation.

"Very well, ladies and gentlemen, since there are no further bids, this item now belongs to the esteemed gentleman over there. And now, we present to you the item you have all been eagerly awaiting—a slave elf."

The presenter's words resounded through the room, marking the climax of the auction and ushering in the moment long anticipated by the attendees.

As the curtains parted, revealing the iron cage with the enchanting female elf inside, the room erupted with awe and excitement.

Her captivating figure, with curvaceous thighs and a prominent chest, rivaled that of a woman of noble birth. Her face possessed a beauty that could rival the wealthiest of individuals.

"Whoaaaa! I must have her!" exclaimed a patron, their previous anger dissipating as anticipation took its place. They eagerly prepared themselves to participate in the bidding for the prized elf.

The host cleared his throat, seeking to regain control of the room's attention. "Um...," he began, his voice momentarily faltering due to the overwhelming enthusiasm.

"Allow me to provide you with some details about this exceptional item. This elf is approximately 200 years old.

"With her exquisite physique and stunning visage, we shall commence the bidding at 500 gold coins, with increments of no less than 10 gold coins."

The guards positioned behind the stage nudged the iron cage forward, effectively showcasing the elf's helplessness.

Her eyes were fixed on the sky, a telltale sign that she had been subjected to a spell or enchantment, rendering her unable to think or employ her magical abilities.

The image of vulnerability stirred a range of emotions among the spectators, amplifying the allure of possessing such an extraordinary being.