Coffin Shop of the Destiny Ruler

Bab 8–The Auction of the Doomed

The man from the Night Clan didn’t stay to chat. He turned on a polished heel, his silk robes fluttering with an arrogance that only comes from generations of inherited wealth, and began walking toward the center of Azure Wood Town. Specifically, he was headed toward the jagged, obsidian-colored spire of the Azure Auction House.

Chen didn't follow him immediately. His body felt like it had been put through a grain mill; the mental strain of peering 900 years into Sylphara’s future had left a throbbing ache behind his eyes, and his stomach was currently voicing its displeasure with a loud, hollow growl. He hadn’t eaten since the previous afternoon, and his hands were still stained with the bitter resin of the Spirit Sandalwood.

"First things first," Chen muttered, wiping his sweaty palms on his apron. He detoured to a roadside stall, tossed a few copper coins at a startled vendor, and snatched up two steaming buns filled with spiced pork. He ate them in three bites each as he walked, the hot grease burned his tongue, but the calories provided a much-needed spark of energy.

The Azure Auction House was a fortress of commerce. Two guards stood at the entrance, clad in reinforced leather and carrying halberds that shimmered with low-grade inscriptions. As Chen approached, his simple carpenter’s apron and the sawdust clinging to his hair made him look like a beggar lost in a palace.

The guards crossed their weapons before he could reach the stairs.

"The auction is for invited guests and registered cultivators only, wood-cutter," the guard on the left said, his voice flat and bored. "The servant's entrance is in the alley."

Chen didn't blink. He reached into the pocket of his apron and pulled out the cold, crystalline token Sylphara Ash had given him. The moment the air touched the blue jade, a faint frost began to creep across Chen’s fingers.

The guards froze. Their eyes darted from the token—bearing the sigil of the Everfrost Sect—to Chen’s tired, grime-streaked face. The halberds retracted so fast they clattered against the stone floor.

"My apologies, Senior!" the guard stammered, bowing so low his forehead nearly hit his knees. "We didn't realize... please, the grand hall is straight ahead."

Chen tucked the token away, feeling the lingering chill in his marrow. A protector indeed, he thought. This piece of rock is more effective than a sword.

Inside, the auction house smelled of expensive incense and old money. Velvet curtains dampened the sound of the bustling town outside, replacing it with the rhythmic, professional cadence of an auctioneer’s voice. Chen slipped into the main hall, ignoring the bewildered stares of the cultivators in their embroidered gowns. He looked like a smudge of charcoal on a white silk canvas.

He found a seat in the front row, right behind the man he had been following.

Tamsynor Night.

From this distance, the Destiny Ledger flared to life without Chen even needing to focus. The flickering red numbers hovered over Tamsynor’s head like a guillotine blade: [05:42:11].

The cause of death was still listed as 'Greed,' but as Chen watched, the subtitle shifted, adding a secondary note: [Consumable Treachery].

On the raised stage at the front of the room, a woman with hair like spun fire—Wrenara Blaze—held up a small, ornate jade box. She was the primary auctioneer of the Blaze Merchant House, and she knew how to work a crowd.

"And now, the item you have all been waiting for," Wrenara announced, her voice amplified by a Qi-enhancing formation. "The Divine Bone-Cleansing Pill. Harvested from the marrow of a Thousand-Year Frost Ape and refined by a Grade 4 Alchemist. It doesn't just clear your meridians—it rebuilds them."

A murmur of hunger rippled through the room. For a cultivator, better meridians meant a faster path to power. To someone like Tamsynor Night, who was clearly stuck at the peak of the Body Refinement stage, it was a ticket to the Foundation Establishment realm.

"The starting bid is three thousand spirit stones," Wrenara said, her eyes sparking.

"Four thousand!" Tamsynor shouted immediately, his voice cracking with desperation. He stood up, his hand gripping the back of his chair so hard the wood groaned.

"Five thousand," a voice called from the back.

"Six thousand!" Tamsynor countered, his face flushing a deep, unhealthy purple.

Chen leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. He wasn't looking at the pill. He was looking at the way the light reflected off the surface of the jade box. Through the Ledger’s Eye, the pill wasn't glowing with divine light; it was radiating a sickly, pulsating black mist that seemed to be reaching out toward Tamsynor’s throat.

[Warning: Fate divergence detected. Proximity to 'Soul-Eater Trap' is accelerating the timer.]

The numbers above Tamsynor’s head blurred, dropping from five hours to four, then stabilizing.

"Seven thousand five hundred," Tamsynor roared, glaring at the room. "The Night Clan will not be insulted! If anyone bids again, you are bidding against our entire lineage!"

The room went silent. The Night Clan was known for being petty and vindictive. No one wanted to start a blood feud over a pill, no matter how good it was.

"Going once, going twice..." Wrenara’s hammer hovered. "Sold! To Young Master Tamsynor Night for seven thousand five hundred stones."

Tamsynor exhaled, a triumphant, jagged laugh escaping his lips. He marched toward the stage, his chest puffed out.

Chen stood up.

The movement was slow, deliberate, and entirely out of place. In the sudden silence of the post-bid lull, the scraping of his wooden chair sounded like a thunderclap.

"Wait," Chen said. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried a strange, heavy weight that made people turn.

Tamsynor paused, his hand inches from the jade box. He turned his head, recognizing Chen from the market. "You? The coffin-maker? What are you doing here? This isn't a place for people who smell like pine sap and failure."

Wrenara Blaze frowned, her hand going to the hilt of a small dagger at her waist. "Is there a problem, sir? This is a closed auction."

"Just doing a bit of market research," Chen said, stepping into the aisle. He walked toward Tamsynor, his eyes fixed on the man’s forehead. "I noticed you just spent a fortune on that pill, Young Master. It would be a shame if you didn't have the appropriate... accessories to go with it."

Tamsynor sneered. "Accessories? Like a jade bottle?"

"No," Chen said, stopping three feet away. "Like a bundle deal. I'm running a promotion today. Buy one High-Grade Cedar Coffin with silk lining and a pre-paid professional mourning crew, and I'll throw in the headstone engraving for free. I can even start the 'T' and the 'A' right now."

The auction hall went deathly quiet. Then, a wave of muffled laughter broke out from the back rows, followed by gasps of shock.

Tamsynor’s face went from purple to a ghostly, mottled white. "You... you're cursing me? In public?"

"It’s not a curse, it’s a forecast," Chen replied casually. He glanced at the jade box in Tamsynor's hand. "That pill in your hand isn't a Bone-Cleanser. It’s a Soul-Eater Trap. The moment it hits your stomach, it’s going to start dissolving your internal organs to feed the spirit parasite inside. Your timer just dropped by ten hours, Tamsynor. Technically, you're already dead. You just haven't stopped breathing yet."

The timer above Tamsynor’s head began to strobe violently. Red light bathed his face, invisible to everyone but Chen.

Wrenara Blaze stepped forward, her expression fierce. "That is a serious accusation, carpenter. Our appraisers verified that pill."

"Then your appraisers are either blind or they're on the payroll of whoever wants the Night Clan's inheritance to go to the second branch," Chen said. He looked Tamsynor in the eye. "Don't eat it. If you walk away now, I can't save your money, but I can save your life. Of course, I'll still charge you for the consultation."

Tamsynor looked at the pill. He looked at the crowd, who were now whispering and pointing. He looked at Chen—a man who lived in a shack and worked with his hands.

His ego, bloated by years of sycophants and clan prestige, couldn't handle the public humiliation. To believe Chen was to admit he had been played like a fool.

"You're a fraud," Tamsynor hissed, his voice trembling with rage. "You're a 'trash' disciple who couldn't even cultivate, so you've turned to ghost stories to scare your betters."

"I'm a businessman," Chen corrected. "And business is about to be very good."

Tamsynor flipped the lid of the jade box open. A faint, sweet aroma filled the air, masking the rot that Chen could see with his system-enhanced vision.

"You want to see a miracle, coffin-maker? Watch this."

Tamsynor grabbed the pill—a shimmering, pearlescent sphere—and shoved it into his mouth. He swallowed it in one defiant gulp, baring his teeth at Chen in a mockery of a smile.

"See?" Tamsynor gloated, spreading his arms wide. "I feel... I feel incredible. The Qi is already—"

He stopped.

His eyes widened, the pupils shrinking to pinpricks. A single, thick vein began to throb in the center of his forehead, turning a dark, bruised black.

Chen sighed and reached into his apron, pulling out a small notebook and a charcoal pencil.

"There it goes," Chen murmured.

Above Tamsynor's head, the timer hit zero and began to count down in seconds.

[00:00:59]

[00:00:58]

"I'll go get the cart," Chen said to the stunned room. "I have a feeling he's going to be ready for delivery sooner than expected."