Another hour later, Lao Hui brought a rose-colored Ethereal Crystal onto the stage.
Bai Fan raised her bidding paddle again.
Brother Feng had just suffered a loss at her hands, so this time he behaved and didn’t dare to pick a fight casually.
The others weren’t interested either. When Bai Fan called out 2.5 million, the venue was silent, and no one followed.
“Number 42, 2.5 million. First call.”
Lao Hui slowed his breathing and swept his gaze around.
“Second call.”
No response.
“Third call. Sold.”
Bai Fan’s palm clenched under her coat, beading with a bit of sweat.
This was the first time she had spent money so lavishly; before, she’d always been in the red.
The snow-haired girl floated beside her with a smile, her tone light as if coaxing a child.
“Relax, relax. Small scene. This money will come back later.”
Bai Fan asked inwardly, ‘You said earlier you came to the auction because you sensed something useful. Has that thing arrived?’
“A watched pot never boils. The main event is saved for later.”
Bai Fan thought, ‘She really knows how to keep a secret.’
“Look,” the snow-haired girl suddenly said, “the Ethereal Crystal you purified is coming up.”
Sure enough, Lao Hui came up with a tray again, with even more mystery this time.
He stood on the stage, not in a hurry to remove the cloth, but first glanced at the audience as if waiting for everyone to quiet down.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I won’t keep you in suspense this time,” he said. “This piece is also an Ethereal Crystal. But the difference from before is that the purity of this crystal is as high as 95%.”
Murmurs arose in the auction hall.
Bai Fan could feel the gazes around her suddenly change.
The higher the rank and the rarer the relic, the higher the purity requirement for Ethereal Crystals. Even more precise ether industrial processing also needs high-purity crystals as energy sources.
Ethereal Crystals with purity above 95% are precious resources even for the giant corporations of the Federation.
Listening to the discussions around her, Bai Fan suddenly realized something.
The Ethereal Crystal she had pawned off might be even more valuable than she originally thought.
“Sister’s” voice sounded faintly in her ear: “Your abilities are even more valuable than you originally thought.”
The auction officially began.
The starting price was 10 million. The atmosphere was more heated than any round before.
“16 million!”
“18 million!”
“20 million!”
The price shot upward as if ignited.
Bai Fan sat in the corner, listening to the figures popping out one after another, feeling as if she were dreaming.
In the end, that crystal was won by a young man wearing a sheep mask for 25 million.
Bai Fan could almost hear her own heartbeat, as if it were about to leap out of her chest.
25 million.
It was a number she had never dared to imagine in her life.
“If you’re done being excited,” the snow-haired girl’s voice pulled her back to reality, “get ready for the next item. Good stuff is coming.”
Bai Fan took a deep breath and suppressed her elation.
She was indeed curious.
What could be the thing that Sister called “good stuff”?
Lao Hui came back on stage, now holding a black wooden box.
The box wasn’t large; it looked quite old, with its corners worn shiny.
Bai Fan’s gaze fell on it, and for some reason, she couldn’t look away.
She vaguely sensed… a disturbing aura emanating from the box.
As if something inside was trapped, struggling, trying to break out.
Even through the wood, she could feel that restlessness.
What was that?
Lao Hui wasn’t in a hurry to open it; instead, he teased them first.
“To be honest, everyone should be able to tell what kind of wood this box is made of, right?”
Bai Fan naturally couldn’t tell, so she naturally looked at “Sister.”
The snow-haired girl was happy to be the commentator.
“That color and pattern are from lightning-struck wood. Only purple-bud wood that has been baptized by thunder for years can grow like that, and it’s usually used to suppress malevolent spirits and evil aura.”
“Being able to use lightning-struck wood to make a box means the thing inside is a weapon possessed by an evil soul.”
Bai Fan’s ears were sharp now.
She could hear the faint discussions from the audience, most of them interspersed with words like “malignant” and “noxious aura.”
The tone carried a sense of fear.
This made her even more curious.
Seeing that he had teased enough, Lao Hui finally stopped being a tease.
He slid open the lid just a crack, and Bai Fan vaguely saw a section of dust-covered blade.
Suddenly, a sharp screech echoed through the hall.
Bai Fan vaguely saw a bird with full feathers, crimson pupils, and a defiant posture, like some Phantom Beast, emerging from the blade and then quickly dissipating.
Her breathing became heavy.
For some reason, a voice burst from her heart, very clear, very certain.
‘I want it, I want this blade.’
But the people around her seemed to see nothing.
After a round of teasing, Lao Hui finally began the official introduction.
“Everyone present, you should all know about the fall of Cangdu in the Federation back then, right?”
Bai Fan of course knew. When it happened, she was still young, but in the Federation that had been stable for many years, it was a world-shaking event.
A spacequake suddenly struck, and a massive Abyss Hollow appeared in the center of Cangdu, swallowing the entire city.
It was said that the Federation paid a great price back then, sacrificing many lives to suppress the scale of the Abyss and reclaim Cangdu.
“This blade,” Lao Hui said, “is the weapon left behind by one of the advance team members who entered the Cangdu Hollow. Its name is Poison Feather.”
Murmurs arose from the audience.
“Back then, those sent into the Cangdu Hollow were required to be at least Third Order Sublimators, right?”
“Not only that. Those who could take the lead in the advance team could be Fourth Order, or even Fifth Order.”
As these guesses came out, everyone present seemed to suck in a breath of cold air.
“This blade languished in the Abyss for many years,” Lao Hui’s voice was unhurried. “Our excavators had a hard time retrieving it. This relic is too mysterious; even our auction house hasn’t fully figured it out. You may bid on it yourselves and study it on your own.”
At the thought that this might be a relic left by a Fifth Order Sublimator, the eyes in the audience subtly grew heated.
The snow-haired girl’s gaze fell on the blade.
“It seems getting this blade won’t be easy.”
Bai Fan asked, “How many Credit Points is this blade worth?”
“For you now,” the snow-haired girl’s tone was calm, “it’s worth throwing all the Credit Points you have at it.”
“Really?”
“Of course. Aren’t you trying to take revenge on Master Mo?”
Bai Fan said no more.
Lao Hui’s voice rang out from the stage: “Cangdu relic, Poison Feather, starting bid 8 million Credit Points. Bidding begins now!”
Bai Fan didn’t rush to raise her paddle.
She watched the reactions from the audience. Some showed obvious interest, while others showed little.
Probably they thought that after soaking in the Abyss for so many years, the relic was likely contaminated and damaged, thus worthless.
But that didn’t stop the price from skyrocketing.
“10 million.”
“11 million.”
“12 million.”
Bai Fan listened to the bids in millions, and her heart trembled again.
She took a deep breath, suppressed the trembling, and raised her paddle.
“22 million.”
The entire hall fell silent for a moment.
No one expected someone to suddenly raise the bid by 10 million.
Those gazes converged from all directions, landing on her with surprise and scrutiny.
Bai Fan gripped her paddle tightly, and her palms were sweating again.
Her Ethereal Crystal sold for 25 million, but she had already spent 2.5 million, and now shouting 22 million basically meant she was betting almost everything she had left.
If someone bid higher, she couldn’t do anything about it.
Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Number 23.
The young man wearing a sheep mask, the one who had just bought her Ethereal Crystal.
He seemed hesitant, leaning slightly forward as if he intended to raise his paddle.
Bai Fan couldn’t care about that. Through her mask, she shot him a fierce glare.
That gaze was probably cold enough.
He froze for a moment, then gave a wry laugh, and his body, which had been slightly lifted, fell back into his chair.
Lao Hui swept his gaze across the audience.
“Number 42, 22 million. First call.”
No response.
“22 million, second call.”
Still no response.
“22 million, third call. Since there are no other bids, then—” He paused and raised his voice. “Sold.”
When Bai Fan heard the word “sold,” a boulder lifted halfway from her heart.
But at this moment, behind her, under the Wild Boar Mask, Brother Feng’s eyes were fixed intently on her.
He picked up his communication earpiece.
“Mr. He, that’s right. There’s someone here who needs you to handle.”