The words cut through the air like a blade.The voice that said it did not shout.The sum of five billion dollars was said in an almost bored tone, as if the speaker had been waiting all night just to drop it like a casual remark over dinner.Every head in the room snapped toward the voice that came from.It came from the man in the black mask.The same man who had sat utterly still all evening, as silent and unmoving as carved obsidian.Since the very first item had rolled onto the stage, he hadn’t uttered a word.Hadn’t lifted a single finger to bid.Not even a twitch of interest.People seated near him had already decided that he was nothing but a shadow in the crowd.Some assumed he was just a quiet observer, here to enjoy the show of rich men tearing each other apart.Others guessed he was a broke man, maybe hoping to cling to a powerful guest and beg for scraps after the night was over.A few even whispered he might be even worse than mute.But now…His gloved hand was raised,

Every head in the room turned.Masks twisted toward one another, voices rising in sharp, nervous murmurs.“An intruder?”“Who would dare?”“Is he mad?”Suspicion spread through the hall like wildfire, each staring at the others, trying to identify themselves under the mask.Rootbinder stood motionless, a black monolith under the golden light. When he spoke again, his voice cut clean through the whispers.“One of our distributors,” he said slowly, “is in prison.”A shiver of unease slid through the crowd.“And yet…” He let the pause stretch, heavy, merciless. “…someone used his card… to step into this auction hall.”Gasps erupted immediately.Hands tightened around wine glasses.A masked woman in sapphire muttered to her companion, “If Rootbinder says it, it’s true.”“Whoever it is,” another hissed, “they won’t leave this hall alive.”Rootbinder’s black mask swept slowly across the masked faces.Each pair of eyes he passed froze under that suffocating gaze, as if holding still might so

Adrian didn’t flinch.Under the weight of every mocking gaze in the room, he calmly reached into his coat.When his hand emerged, he was holding a black, steel-edged case no larger than a wallet.He flicked it open with a single motion.He brought out a card that has the Crest of the Global Association of Physicians.And beneath it, in engraved letters, his name… followed by the title that sent shivers down people's spine.ELDER.The shift in the atmosphere was instant.The murmurs died in their throats.Masks tilted forward.Some leaned in just to be sure their eyes were not deceiving them.One man’s voice broke the quiet, thick with disbelief.“That… that’s an Elder’s ID.”Everyone knew to become and Elder in the Association was next to impossible.Doctors and healers who had made significant impact in the association were not even granted that power.And now a man held it in his hands.A woman in sapphire gasped softly.“My father’s been in the Association for forty years. Forty. A

Adrian walked forward with the calm, measured pace of a man walking into the eye of a storm.The masked crowd shifted to follow him with their eyes. Some shook their heads in disbelief.He’s really going to do it…From where he stood, still ten paces from the stage, Adrian already recognized the poison.The faint, almost metallic tang in the air was enough to tell him.Black Veyra.An ancient toxin banned in every empire for centuries, whispered about more like a ghost story than a real poison.Derived from the heart sap of the Midnight Bellvine, a plant that bloomed once every thirty years under the light of a blood moon, it was a killer designed for speed.Once ingested, it didn’t attack the stomach — it slid into the bloodstream like ice water, coiling up the spine and seizing the brain’s control over the heart. Within two minutes, the victim would collapse as their pulse flatlined.It was elegant. It was cruel.And Rootbinder had chosen it because he believed no one alive could b

“He’s already dead.”“Drinking that will only speed it up.”"Who drinks poison to cure a poison?"On the balcony, Alfredo’s laughter cut through the noise like a blade.“Someone bring in a casket already!” He called. “Let’s make this quick!”Adrian didn’t even look up.He raised the vial… and he drank it.Rootbinder’s gaze locked on Adrian; the mask made it look like he had no expression, but beneath it, his thoughts were moving fast.What kind of technique was this?Why use the poison itself as a base?Even he had no idea what technique he was using."He racks his head, but he had never seen or heard anything like this.Was this man… truly not lying?But before the thought could settle, the crowd’s voice swelled again.A minute had passed.Adrian had already diffused the Black Veyra in just one minute.But no one in the room believed it.They all thought he had one minute left to live.From the balcony, Alfredo’s laughter rang out, smug and booming.“Are you done with your little cha