When Did I Become An Artifact Dealer?!

Hal was already panicking. He started pacing around the box. Clea had to drag him back to his seat because she was going dizzy at his restlessness.

"We are not going to die." Clea tried to assure him. "At least killing us will spark outrage at the powerhouses!"

"But what if? This insanity is clearly beyond what's logical. We have no idea what the master of this pavilion wants. But clearly, he doesn't mind war." Hal was a bit of an overthinker.

Although he grew up in a loving family, his personality was a bit crooked. Not in a way that he's spoiled, but he is basically constantly on the edge.

His parents have a healthy relationship; Hal was not always like this. He had been very cheerful when he was young. But as time went on, he became more grounded and calculative. It wasn't without reason.

When it comes to the entire academy, he ranks fifth. Not the best, but still considered good. But for him it wasn't enough. People gossiped that he seemed to fall short of his mother's talents, and that made him frustrated.

"He is the only son. Although he is outstanding, I think it would be best for his parents to give birth to another. What if he died?"

Having a single child is very uncommon in the world of void users. Concubines are the norm. They know the fatality rate in the life that they choose. Having a backup plan is always better.

That made Hal even more panicked. It felt like his parents were betting on him as their last shot. His mother could no longer conceive a child. His birth had been some kind of miracle, with the help of a few medicines.

Now that there had been talks that he would probably inherit his uncle's properties, he didn't feel good about it.

Another burden. Another expectation. Another thing to be a cause of envy.

Dying didn't feel bad for him, but he was afraid of leaving his parents behind.

Idris pulled Hal to sit down. "Don't overthink. Maybe they'd let us go after the auction."

Hal tried to calm down but to no avail. He was a chronic overthinker, and what's happening right now made him see countless horrible possibilities.

If there is a war, will his parents be safe? What will happen after?

...

While Hal's side was panicking, Cail, on the other hand, was calm.

He looked at the top of the auction house and noticed the bright crystal chandelier that illuminated the entire place.

With his glasses, he could see that it was made out of intricate runes. Delicate, yes, but weak it was not.

It was a surprise, but these unreliable glasses of his managed to detect what those swirling words were all about.

"It's a sucker." His voice was calm. Not the exact name, but the usage of the rune.

Sucker meant it would suck all the void energy out of the people here. It was slowly being activated.

At first, it would feel negligible, but after some time, the victim would start to feel its effects.

As of now, it was still in the early phase, and this auction house was buying some time.

"Well, this should be it." Cail was starting to get bored, and with his regeneration being useless on his other eye, he decided to leave.

He took out his gun from his space and without hesitation, he aimed it directly at the clown.

...

BANG!

Everyone watched in shock as a lone bullet flew towards the auctioneer below the stage.

The clown wanted a weakling. He could sense the lethality of the bullet, so without being complacent, he tried to dodge.

But—

SPLAT!

It still managed to hit the clown's waist.

Clutching his side, the clown's smiling face looked dreary. He touched his wound and looked at the box. "I guess my senses were right. That bullet could kill me." This time, his tone was cold and ruthless.

"Kind sir, why are we acting like this? Our deal was going pretty well. Now you are not being good."

Cail, who was watching from the top, chuckled. "Being good? That is the last thing I have ever been."

He raised his gun, and this time, it wasn't towards anyone but the runes on the ceiling. Oh pity... Letting a bullet scratch a single letter of that won't affect anything, right?

With no good intentions, Cail fired another shot.

BANG!

The clown, who was expecting an attack, was furious when he realized that Cail had another goal.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" His voice was shrill and sharp as he flew towards Cail's box.

Just as his hand was about to reach the wall, a sharp arrow flew towards the clown, pinning him directly on the wall.

"Lady Death?" As if there wasn't an argument before, the clown was acting as if they were good friends. "Why are you siding with this bad friend who harmed you? Clown loves you and I'm heartbroken."

The one who threw the weapon was none other than the pissed Lady Death.

"I hate both of you." Her eyes were dark as she gazed at everyone, including those who were just watching the spectacle. "But siding with you is a disadvantage to my interest."

Like it was nothing, the clown pulled out the arrow and gave Lady Death a look of heartbreak. "Oh poor lady. I sympathize with you." He wiped his non-existent tears and gave Lady Death a strange smile.

"You are siding with him for your sister's blood, right? How about you let me kill him and I give the blood to you?" The auctioneer's eyes were filled with greed. "Or we can join together. This guy had more artifacts than what I expected. Maybe the Golden Pot can give you a share?"

BANG!

Another shot was fired at the clown. This time it was aiming directly at his head.

"Funny guy. What makes you think I'll be a sitting duck waiting for you to decide my fate?" Cail watched as another group of clowns attempted to fix the broken rune on the ceiling as the auctioneer was writhing in his death.

His ability is not called null for nothing.