The Most Satisfied Reincarnate

"Young master… young master..." The maid whispered, nudging Desmond gently and pointing at his shoulder to wake him up.

As the maid whispered urgently to wake Desmond, he slowly regained awareness, his gaze shifting to the platform where the auction was taking place.

The sight of a guard swapping a sword for a cage containing elves captured his attention. He rested his chin on his hand, a mixture of curiosity and contemplation evident on his face.

"What's the price now?" Desmond inquired, his bright magenta eyes fixated on the unfolding scene, meticulously observing every movement and gauging the reactions around him.

Before the maid could respond, their conversation was interrupted by the commotion emanating from another VIP room. A voice resounded, accompanied by the loud shouting of other maids.

Desmond's attention turned towards the VIP room in front of him, where he noticed a corpulent man with a defiant gaze and a maid seated on his lap, both staring directly at him.

The maid on the man's lap appeared flustered, casting her gaze downwards to avoid eye contact.

Yet, hidden beneath her apparent shyness, a discerning observer would detect the disdain in her eyes as she concealed the pain and disgust by digging her nails into her palm.

Contrasting with the maid's expression, the fat man seemed unperturbed by her internal turmoil, continuing his lascivious exploration, caressing her exposed skin with unabashed ecstasy.

"Haha, child's play..." Desmond thought to himself, finding amusement in the man's behavior. He snapped his fingers, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Set the price at 2000," he instructed the maid beside him.

The maid, taken aback by Desmond's easygoing demeanor, momentarily hesitated. "He must be wealthy," she surmised, shaking her head. "I should try to seduce him," she pondered, lowering her head to clear her throat. "2000!" she declared with a surprisingly deep and resonant voice.

Desmond was momentarily surprised by the maid's sudden display of vocal prowess, its depth contrasting with her elegant appearance. "What a primitive approach," he mused, regarding the maid with conflicting emotions. "A man in disguise," he quietly speculated.

The declaration of the bid left everyone in the auction astounded, particularly the fat man who had previously mocked Desmond. Doubt and disbelief clouded his thoughts. "Did I hear that correctly?" he pondered.

"2000, going once," the presenter proclaimed, slamming the hammer down and directing a hopeful gaze towards the other VIP rooms, yearning for someone to raise the bid.

The crowd in front of him barely captured his attention. "What a joke! This is a big spender. I must give my utmost to secure their interest," he contemplated, eyeing the rotund man with anticipation.

Desmond's smile widened as the fat man snorted in response, increasing the bid to 3000 gold coins. Desmond's eyes sparkled with determination, his confidence unshaken.

"I just hit the jackpot after all!" he thought triumphantly. "A mere few thousand coins are nothing in my eyes."

The desire he had suppressed for months, the fear of his wealth dwindling, now seemed like a distant memory.

"5000!" Desmond boldly declared, his voice echoing through the auction hall, shattering the silence that had settled upon the crowd.

Everyone, including those in the other VIP rooms, was left speechless, their eyes widening in astonishment. The presenter's gaze shifted towards Desmond's VIP room, his excitement palpable as he rushed to witness the reactions unfolding within.

"5000, going once!" the presenter called out, his voice resolute, matching the resounding slam of the hammer.

The fat man, filled with frustration and regret, slammed his fist onto the nearby table, causing a small crack to form.

"Dammit! If only I had brought more money!" he exclaimed in a fit of anger, causing the maid who had been sitting on his lap to jump up and hurriedly walk away, her legs trembling.

The maid beside Desmond cautiously approached him, trying to maintain her composure in the face of the tense atmosphere.

"Excuse me, young master...how?" she managed to inquire, her voice tinged with curiosity.

The fat man's fury spun towards the maid, his eyes filled with anger. The maid instinctively retreated, her back pressing against the door, apprehensive under the young master's gaze. "I'm sorry, young master," she stammered, fearing his wrath.

The presenter's booming voice cut through the tension, offering a momentary reprieve. "Congratulations to the guests there! You have successfully acquired a captivating elf," he announced, the weight of his words breaking the lingering tension between the fat man and the maid.

"Heh, that person must be so wealthy that they're squandering gold coins on slaves," one person in the crowd scoffed, their voice dripping with disdain.

"Shut your mouth! What if that person hears us and decides to enslave us? Ha, haha," another retorted, their laughter laced with nervousness.

"You're right, almost. Thanks for reminding me. Ha, haha," the first person responded, their voice filled with a mix of apprehension and forced amusement.

While the majority of the crowd mocked and ridiculed Desmond's actions, a few admired his audacity and willingness to defy convention.

In a different VIP room, a group of spectators sighed as they watched the scene unfolding in Desmond's VIP room. "Young people these days are strange," one person remarked, shaking their head in disbelief.

"Greed can be the downfall of one's wealth. Why doesn't he just head to the tavern and gather his own harem, the fool," another person scoffed with a sneer.

The maids in the room exchanged glares with those mocking Desmond, feeling repulsed by their behavior. Earlier, when the elf had made an appearance, each of their masters had shamelessly praised and objectified every aspect of the elf's body, leaving the maids feeling sickened to their core.

But now, the room fell into an uneasy silence, the mockery only resurfacing when their desires remained unfulfilled. Why don't they just admit that they too yearn for that elf? The thought echoed in the maids' minds simultaneously.

To them, the maid accompanying Desmond was fortunate to have such a youthful and affluent patron.

Simultaneously, within Desmond's VIP chamber, both Desmond and the maid beside him reveled in his triumph.

"Huff... at long last," Desmond breathed out, sinking back into the plushness of the auction sofa, relishing its comfort. "Well... the final piece of the puzzle has been acquired," he remarked, his gaze turning somber as he observed the dispersing crowd below.

Desmond cast a fleeting glance toward the neighboring VIP room, where the previous 'fat man' had unleashed chaos. Though the rooms were not in close proximity, Desmond's honed skills as a Grade 1st swordsman enabled him to discern the situation.

Within that room, disorder reigned supreme, with shattered glass strewn across the floor, an adhesive residue staining the table, and even traces of blood.

"Hahaha... how naïve!" Desmond chuckled to himself, brimming with satisfaction and a misplaced sense of superiority, akin to a child who had triumphed over a rival. He remained oblivious to the immaturity of his behavior.

Meanwhile, the maid by his side succumbed to daydreams of the fortunes she would amass by selling the captured elves.

She envisioned adorning herself in exquisite garments, relishing in lavish feasts, and venturing out for leisurely pursuits. A broad smile graced her face as she stole a glance at Desmond.

"Boss will surely reward me handsomely for this," she thought, "I never anticipated this young master to possess such immense wealth."

Desmond, reveling in the vexation of others, swiftly regained control of himself. "Oops... it seems my stress levels have reached a boiling point, causing suppressed emotions to surge forth," he contemplated with a furrowed brow.

This presented a dangerous predicament, not only jeopardizing his life during battles but also potentially influencing his future decisions.

"Perhaps it is the recent defeat that has thrown my mind into disarray, plunging me into a state of despondency," he pondered, casting a glance at the maid beside him.

"Ahem... so, where might my possessions be?" he inquired, endeavoring to shift the conversation away from his internal turmoil.