UNDERGROUND SOVEREIGN

Chapter 2: The First Deposit

Chapter 2: The First Deposit

​The Royal Auction House smelled of lavender oil, imported tobacco, and thick, suffocating wealth. Crystal chandeliers hung from painted arches, casting warm light across velvet carpets that swallowed every footstep.

​Han stood near the back corner of the grand floor, leaning his spine against a marble pillar. In his worn brown trousers and scuffed leather vest, he looked like a delivery boy who had gotten lost on his way to the kitchen.

​The security guards near the velvet ropes had given him suspicious looks when he walked in, but once he flashed the copper entry pass he’d traded his last silver piece for at the door, they had no legal grounds to throw him out.

​"Up next on the block," the auctioneer’s smooth, resonant voice boomed from the raised wooden stage, "Lot 42! A batch of ten raw, unrefined mana-crystals harvested from the lower valleys of Mount Vane. Bidding starts at twenty gold pieces!"

​Up on the velvet display table lay ten jagged, dark grey stones. To the naked eye, they looked almost identical to dull, heavy rocks with faint, flickering blue veins running through their crusts.

​A heavy-set merchant sitting in the front row raised his paddle. "Twenty gold!"

​"Twenty-five!" called out an aristocrat three rows back.

​Han leaned forward slightly, narrowing his eyes as he focused on the velvet display.

​The air in front of his eyes rippled. A faint blue translucent grid overlaid the ten stones, and bright, glowing text materialized over each individual crystal.

​[Target: Unrefined Mana-Stone #1]

[Appraised State: Hollow Core. Mana Saturation: 2%.]

[Post-Extraction Value: 1 Silver Piece (Waste Rock)]

​[Target: Unrefined Mana-Stone #2]

[Appraised State: Impure Slag. Mana Saturation: 5%.]

[Post-Extraction Value: 3 Silver Pieces]

​Han’s gaze moved down the line, skipping over stone after stone marked with single-digit silver values.

​Then his eyes locked onto the seventh stone.

​It was the smallest of the batch, barely the size of a fist, covered in a ugly layer of dark green moss and iron rust. Most miners would have tossed it into the gravel pit without a second thought.

​Above it, glowing text flashed with a brilliant, pulsing golden hue:

​[Target: Unrefined Mana-Stone #7 (Latent Divine Vein)]

[Appraised State: Compressed Celestial Mana Core. Saturation: 99.8%.]

[Post-Extraction Value: 1,200 Gold Pieces (Contains Pure Divine Fire Core)] 

​A quiet, dangerous thrill shot through Han’s chest.

​Twelve hundred gold.

​He needed five hundred gold to purchase the deed to Sector 99 from the city land registry before the Paragon Guild swept it up in their quarterly land buyouts. The remaining seven hundred would give him the exact starting capital he needed to buy automated construction blueprints and hire blacklisted labor.

​"Thirty-five gold!" the merchant shouted, his face flushed with greed. "Thirty-five for the batch!"

​"Thirty-five going at once," the auctioneer called, raising his brass gavel. "Going twice—"

​"Forty gold," Han said quietly.

​His voice wasn't loud, but in the polished, quiet hall, it carried like a cracked stone dropping into a glass cup.

​Several nobles turned in their plush seats, looking back toward the alley near the marble pillars. Whispers broke out instantly among the well-dressed crowd.

​"Who is that peasant?"

​"Did a guild laborer sneak onto the floor?"

​"Forty gold? Where would a pig like that get forty gold pieces?"

​Master Overseer Vane, who was sitting in the middle section beside a young guild clerk, froze when he heard the voice. He turned around, his fat neck bulging over his stiff silk collar. When his eyes landed on Han, his jaw snapped open in shock.

​"Han?!" Vane sputtered, his face instantly turning a mottled purple. He stood up from his velvet seat, pointing a pudgy, ring-adorned finger toward the back of the room. "Auctioneer! Stop the bidding! That boy is a low-tier mine laborer under my jurisdiction! He doesn't have forty copper, let alone forty gold!"

​The auctioneer paused, his gavel hovering in mid-air. He raised his monocle, staring down at Han with deep suspicion. "Young man, false bidding at a Royal Auction is a crime punishable by six months of hard labor in the quarries. Do you possess the capital to back your bid?"

​Han didn't flinch under the cold stares of a hundred wealthy aristocrats. He reached into his canvas bag, pulled out a heavy velvet pouch, and tossed it casually onto the nearest marble service tray.

​The tray clattered loudly, and the pouch opened just enough for the sharp, gleaming glare of raw silver and gold coins to shine under the chandelier light.

​It wasn't his money, it was Recruiter Mark’s stolen stash, which Han had retrieved from loose floorboard number four twenty minutes before coming here. He had left Mark ten silver pieces for his trouble and taken the rest.

​"The money is right there," Han said calmly, crossing his arms over his chest. "Are you going to accept the bid, or does the Royal Auction House allow audience members to interrupt official calls?"

​The auctioneer cleared his throat, glancing nervously at the pile of gold coins on the tray, then back to Overseer Vane. "The bid stands at forty gold. Moving to the second call"

​Vane’s eyes narrowed into tiny slits of venom. He couldn't stand the thought of a trash laborer standing in his venue, let alone winning a batch of stones right under his nose. Worse, if the Paragon Guild found out a former worker was throwing gold around while Vane’s own department was short on budget, it would reflect terribly on his quarterly audit.

​Vane grabbed his bidding paddle, raising it high. "Fifty gold!"

​Han didn't even blink. "Fifty-five."

​"Sixty!" Vane barked, his voice dropping into a snarl.

​"Sixty-five," Han countered instantly.

​"Seventy gold!" Vane roared, his face burning red.

​The young clerk beside Vane panicked, grabbing the overseer’s sleeve. "Sir! Master Vane! Our maximum budget for raw materials today is only sixty gold! If you spend seventy on unrefined valley gravel, the Guild Director will have your head!"

​"Shut up!" Vane shoved the clerk’s hand away, glaring back at Han with pure hatred. "Look at him! He’s bluffing! He wants to force me to spend guild funds! He doesn't actually want these stones, he's trying to embarrass me!"

​Han let out a short, quiet sigh. He looked at Vane, then looked down at his own boots, making sure to play his part perfectly. He let his shoulders drop slightly, biting his lip as if he were calculating his absolute limit.

​"Eighty gold," Han said, his voice carrying a deliberate, subtle tremor of hesitation.

​Vane saw the shake in Han’s shoulders. He saw the hesitation. To a greedy bully like Vane, it was the unmistakable sign of a man at the end of his rope.

​"He’s at his limit!" Vane laughed maniacally, lifting his paddle into the air before anyone could stop him. "One hundred gold pieces!"

​A collective gasp echoed through the hall. One hundred gold for a raw batch of unrefined valley stones was double the market rate.

​The auctioneer’s eyes widened. "One hundred gold to Master Vane of the Paragon Guild! Going once... going twice..."

​The auctioneer looked toward the back of the room, waiting for Han to raise his hand again.

​Han didn't move. He simply stood straight, his posture fixing itself in an instant. The hesitation in his face vanished, replaced by a cold, flat expression that sent a sudden spike of anxiety through Vane’s gut.

​"Sold!" The auctioneer brought the brass gavel down with a heavy BANG. "Lot 42 awarded to Master Vane for one hundred gold pieces!"

​Vane’s breath hitched in his throat. He looked at Han, expecting to see despair or anger on the laborer's face.

​Instead, Han looked directly at him, raised his right hand, and gave Vane a slow, polite, zero-emotion mock applause.

​"Congratulations, Overseer," Han said softly, his voice cutting through the quiet room. "You spent a hundred gold on ninety-nine silver pieces worth of gravel."

​Vane’s blood went cold. "What did you say?!"

​Before Vane could react, Han turned his back to the stage and walked toward the side exit leading to the private cutting room where the auction house allowed winning bidders to immediately cut open their purchased stones on the high-grade diamond saw.

​"Wait!" Vane shouted, scrambling out of his seat and knocking his velvet chair over. "Where are you going?!"

​"Lot 43," the auctioneer announced, moving on to the next item on the ledger without missing a beat. "A discarded single-stone submission from Sector 99. Unrefined, low-grade iron-moss crust. Starting bid: five silver pieces."

​The hall went silent. No one bid. Selling a single stone from a depleted, cursed mine like Sector 99 was practically an insult to the room.

​Han stopped at the edge of the cutting room doorway. He turned around, pulling a single gold coin from his pocket, and flipped it casually toward the stage.

​The gold coin spun through the air, catching the chandelier light before landing with a sharp clink right beside the auctioneer’s podium.

​"I’ll take it for one gold," Han said.

​The auctioneer didn't hesitate for a second. "Sold for one gold piece to the gentleman in the back!"

​Two minutes later, inside the enclosed glass cutting chamber, the house cutter lifted the moss-covered stone from Sector 99 onto the heavy water-cooled cutting wheel.

​Overseer Vane, followed by half the curious noble crowd, pushed into the viewing gallery behind the reinforced glass. Vane was sweating profusely, his hands trembling as he held the paper receipt for his one-hundred-gold batch of gravel sitting on the table beside him.

​"Cut it down the central ridge," Han directed calmly, stepping up to the glass.

​The cutter nodded, pulling his leather gloves tight. The heavy diamond blade spun up with a high-pitched, screaming whine. Water sprayed across the guard as the blade lowered onto the ugly, green-crusted stone.

​The blade bit into the outer shell. Sparks flew for three seconds and then, the blade ground to a sudden, violent halt.

​SCREECH!

​The heavy machinery shuddered. The cutter gasped, shutting off the drive motor as steam poured out of the stone's core.

​The cutter reached down with a pair of silver tongs, wiping away the dark slurry of wet stone dust with a clean rag.

​A light burst out from the center of the rock.

​It wasn't the pale, flickering blue of common mana. It was a blinding, deep crimson-gold beam that cut straight through the glass window, casting brilliant, liquid-fire reflections across the stone walls of the chamber.

​The cutter’s hands shook so violently he almost dropped his tongs.

​"D-Divine... Celestial Fire Core!" the cutter shrieked, his voice cracking into a high-pitched squeal. "Purity rate... ninety-nine percent! It’s an unbroken Divine-Grade Mana Core!"

​Silence hit the viewing gallery like a hammer.

​Overseer Vane’s eyes bulged so far out of his head they looked ready to burst. His knees buckled, slamming hard into the wooden railing behind him. "N-No... that’s impossible... that stone came from Sector 99! It’s a dead mine! It’s dry!"

​The auction house master rushed into the cutting room, his magnifying glass already glued to his eye as he stared at the glowing red gem.

​"Astonishing..." the auction master whispered, his voice trembling with awe. "A raw Divine Core of this size... it’s worth at least twelve hundred gold pieces on the open market!"

​The auction master turned to Han, bowing deeply at the waist. "Sir! The Royal Auction House will purchase this core from you on the spot for eleven hundred gold cash or we can put it on the evening block for twelve! What is your choice?"

​"Eleven hundred cash," Han said without a second of hesitation. "In royal trade notes. Right now."

​"Immediately, sir! Right away!"

​Han turned toward the glass wall.

​Overseer Vane was standing on the other side, his face pale as a sheet, clutching his chest as he stared at the blinding red light of the gem and then down at his own tray of worthless ninety-nine-silver gravel stones sitting on his table.

​Han walked up to the glass wall, looking directly into Vane’s terrified, ruined eyes.

​Han didn't smile. He didn't gloat. He simply reached up, pressed his hand flat against the glass, and spoke two words that Vane could read clearly off his lips:

​"Rent's due."

​Ten minutes later, Han walked out the front doors of the Royal Auction House into the afternoon sun, carrying a thick, wax-sealed leather portfolio containing eleven hundred gold pieces in royal treasury notes.

​He had the money.

​Han looked toward the eastern horizon, where the jagged dark peaks of Sector 99 stood cold and silent against the blue sky.

​"First step complete," Han whispered, pulling his coat tight against the wind. "Time to buy my kingdom."